Archivi categoria: Economia

Due trattati sul governo di John Locke

Vita, libertà e proprietà

 

 

 

Nel magnum opus Due trattati sul governo, pubblicata anonima nel 1690, John Locke tesse una tela intricata e raffinata di idee, che hanno plasmato i fondamenti del pensiero liberale moderno. Quest’opera non è un semplice trattato politico, ma attraversa l’essenza stessa della libertà e della legittimità politica, un inno ai diritti innati dell’individuo e alla sovranità del popolo.
Locke scrive contro il decoro di un’Inghilterra che si dibatte tra monarchia assoluta e le prime scintille di ribellione repubblicana. I suoi scritti emergono non solo come risposta alla tirannia, ma come luce guida verso un ordine basato sul consenso e sul riconoscimento dei diritti imprescindibili dell’uomo. Filosoficamente, Locke sfida l’idea del diritto divino dei re, sostenendo, invece, che il potere politico derivi dal consenso dei governati, un concetto rivoluzionario che ribaltava le strutture di potere esistenti.
Nel primo trattato, Locke intraprende una critica serrata e meticolosa delle teorie di Robert Filmer, un araldo del diritto divino dei re. Con una penna tanto incisiva quanto lo scalpello sul marmo, il filosofo decostruisce le argomentazioni di Filmer, mostrando come la sua visione sia non solo infondata, ma pericolosa per la costruzione di una società equa e giusta. Ma è nel secondo trattato che il cuore pulsante delle idee lockiane trova piena espressione. Lì, egli dipinge il ritratto di un governo ideale, radicato nel consenso e nella tutela dei diritti naturali. Quelle pagine rappresentano un manifesto per l’umanità, un chiaro promemoria che il vero scopo del governo sia il benessere dei suoi cittadini.
Locke è fermamente radicato nella tradizione del diritto naturale, che sostiene l’esistenza di diritti universali intrinseci all’essere umano, indipendenti da qualsiasi ordinamento statale. Questi diritti includono la vita, la libertà e la proprietà. Locke argomenta che ogni individuo abbia il diritto di proteggere questi aspetti fondamentali della propria esistenza e che sia compito primario del governo non solo rispettarli, ma garantirli. Se un governo fallisce nel proteggere questi diritti o, peggio, si rende autore di loro violazioni, il popolo non solo ha il diritto, ma il dovere morale di cambiare o rovesciare tale governo. Questa idea rappresenta una rottura radicale con le teorie del diritto divino e pone le basi per la moderna concezione della resistenza civile e della sovranità popolare.
Nel secondo trattato, inoltre, Locke delinea la sua visione del governo civile, ente creato dalla volontà collettiva dei cittadini, che si impegnano reciprocamente a rispettare e promuovere leggi fondate sulla ragione. Questo governo ha il dovere di essere imparziale e di agire nell’interesse del popolo, proteggendo i diritti individuali e promuovendo il bene comune.
Locke introduce anche il concetto di separazione dei poteri, una novità rispetto alla concezione più monolitica del potere tipica del suo tempo, che sarà poi sistematizzata da Montesquieu. Propone una distinzione tra il potere legislativo, il più importante per garantire leggi equanimi, e il potere esecutivo, responsabile dell’attuazione delle leggi. Questa distinzione mira a prevenire l’abuso di potere e a mantenere un equilibrio che protegga i diritti degli individui. Il governo, in questa visione, è limitato dalle leggi che esso stesso crea, un concetto rivoluzionario che anticipa le moderne democrazie costituzionali.

Uno degli aspetti più innovativi e influenti del pensiero di Locke riguarda la sua teoria della proprietà. Egli afferma che la proprietà nasca dal lavoro: utilizzando le proprie capacità e il proprio lavoro per trasformare le risorse naturali in beni utili, l’uomo acquisisce un diritto su di essi. Questa visione mette in luce il legame indissolubile tra libertà individuale e possesso, un concetto che ha profonde implicazioni politiche ed economiche, promuovendo l’idea di un mercato basato sui meriti individuali e sulla libertà.
Locke è stato spesso considerato quale strenuo sostenitore del contrattualismo, teoria che postula l’esistenza di un “contratto sociale” tra il governo e i governati. Questo contratto non è un accordo esplicito, ma un’intesa tacita secondo cui gli individui cedono una parte della loro libertà in cambio di protezione e ordine sociale. La legittimità di un governo, per Locke, dipende dalla sua capacità di salvaguardare i diritti fondamentali degli individui – come già accennato, la vita, la libertà e la proprietà – e dal consenso continuo dei governati. Al centro della filosofia di Locke, infatti, è la nozione dello stato di natura, un concetto filosofico in cui gli uomini vivono liberi e uguali, privi di un’autorità sovrana. Contrariamente a Thomas Hobbes, che descriveva lo stato di natura come una “guerra di tutti contro tutti”, Locke vede in esso una condizione di relativa pace e uguaglianza. Il passaggio dallo stato di natura al governo civile è motivato dalla necessità di proteggere i diritti individuali e di risolvere i conflitti che inevitabilmente emergono.
Locke non scrive in un vuoto teoretico, ma nel contesto della Gloriosa Rivoluzione del 1688 in Inghilterra, che vide l’abdicazione di Giacomo II e l’ascesa di Guglielmo d’Orange. Le sue teorie, quindi, non solo riflettevano le aspirazioni e le tensioni del suo tempo, ma offrivano anche una giustificazione filosofica per il cambiamento di regime, sostenendo il diritto del popolo a ribellarsi contro un sovrano tirannico che viola i diritti naturali.
La risonanza delle teorie lockiane non è relegata alle pagine di un libro o ai confini di un’epoca. Essa si estende attraverso i secoli, influenzando documenti fondamentali come la Dichiarazione di Indipendenza degli Stati Uniti del 4 luglio 1776, e le costituzioni di governi democratici in tutto il mondo. Locke non solo ha scritto di governo, ha fornito le fondamenta per una nuova alba della civiltà occidentale, un’era dove il governo esiste per servire il popolo, non per dominarlo.
Due trattati sul governo è un’opera che continua a illuminare il cammino verso la libertà e la giustizia. Locke, con la sua visione penetrante, rimane un faro di saggezza nel tumultuoso mare delle teorie politiche.

 

 

 

Geopolitics: a Philosophical Approach

 

 

 

These my brand-new reflections on geopolitics present it as a philosophical field, emphasizing the influence of geography on political strategies and the impact of geopolitical actions on collective identities and human conditions. It integrates classical philosophical thoughts on power and State acts, aiming to deepen the understanding of nations’ strategic behaviours and ethical considerations. This reflective approach seeks to enhance insights into global interactions and the shaping of geopolitical landscapes.

 

The Geo-Philosophy

Part IV

 

 

Geophilosophy, in itself and in relation to what produces it, is therefore, first of all, a thought of the outside. This is because it has in the “outside” the only philosophical ground from which to draw its start; such a “start” is “unique” because any other ground would be, and is in fact, precluded to it, from the exclusion from which it comes: the almost nothing of heterogeneous existence and provincial thoughtfulness. In trying to reach a certain understanding of its theoretical consistency and its cultural role, geophilosophy thus comes to think of the place of its Herkunft, which means both belonging and provenance, as the fruit of a meiotic activity within a space of immanence. The mechanisms of exclusion and removal proper to meiotic activity destine a part of being to rejection: it is meiosis that produces that secluded region that constitutes, within the totality of things seen, organized, transmissible, and sensible, a Mërtvogo doma, a dead house, a closed region of the heterogeneous that resembles nothing, with its own laws, its own customs, with a life that does not exist anywhere else, where one can suppose that there is no crime that does not have its representative there, where the existing forces, there cohabiting under duress, are put to work under the threat of the stick, but without such employment having any purpose, its only purpose being instead to deceive the wait. A house where one can therefore learn patience in anticipation of being either enabled to join the bright world beyond, or at least pointed out by it as a mere moral reminder. A dwelling in every way similar to that prison of which Dostoevsky not only sculpted the figures, but also the dynamics, the chemical reactions, the vital functions, and the global dysfunction—the Other, for geophilosophy, is not high (Evola), but low (Nietzsche). The zero degree of exclusion corresponds, however, to the groundlessness of the world and the sense and organization of collective life are directly in function of the degree of exclusion. In this way, the crisis of desynthesis of the West comes to express, in addition to what has already been said, the weakening of the mechanisms of self-recognition on the part of the homogeneous world, which indeed used the inside/outside relationship to determine the sense of the positive, of the good, and of the superior in relation to the negative, the bad, and the inferior. The positive and the homogeneous are the ‘inside,’ the heterogeneous, the negative, and the transcendent are the ‘outside’; the ‘inside’ is a free, evasive region, the ‘outside’ is a closed and secluded region; the inside is the part of sense, of reason, of man and of being, the outside is the part of insignificance, of being, of god, and of the beast; the inside is the organized, serviced, and productive urban space, the outside is “the consistency of a vague ensemble that opposes the law (or Polis) as a hinterland, a mountainside, or the vague expanse around the city.” The desynthesis of the West therefore corresponds to an increase in the disorganization of the world, and thus also to an increase in its insignificance. The degree of insignificance to which the world bends corresponds, however, to the degree of liberation of flows of uncoded thought.
In the face of theology as the perfection of philosophical thinking, geophilosophy, one might say, unfolds—in the sense that it hoists, as sails are hoisted—the imperfection of an absolute anthropology. This, unlike subjective anthropology, which assumed the earth as that sector of being that constitutes the subordinate complement of the sphere of transcendence, assumes the earth as the conclusive, extreme horizon, as an “absolute,” within which the terrestrial and the transcendent, being and being, the human and the divine, the ἱδιότηϛ and the πoλίτης exchange incessantly, in a regime of unlimited reversibility.

In the second place, geophilosophy is a “minor” thought. Being excluded from thought does not mean not being able to learn its features, but rather: not being able to utter a philosophically legitimate sentence unless overcoming within oneself the stammering of the ἱδιότηϛ. “Minor,” in the sense of professional and homogeneous philosophy, is that use of the mind that stammers in thought, that use of the mind that is without past and without future, where, precisely, only what has a past, and therefore a future, and therefore a History, is philosophically relevant. Stammering in thought, without past or future, is indeed the almost nothing of provincial thoughtfulness. Taken in the “geo-” sense, this “minority” is therefore, to use a Deleuzian image, the autonomy of the stammerer insofar as he has conquered the right to stammer.
Finally, geophilosophy is a provincial thought, in the sense that it operates starting from the almost nothing of provincial thoughtfulness and unfolds like a path through the fields.
It is not easy to say whether Heidegger’s famous Feldweg also has this sense, but it is certain that if a path through the fields is mentioned here, it is meant to allude to a path that winds far from the road network of professional philosophy, to a path whose destination is not known with precision nor whether it leads anywhere, and thus to a path that must be attempted before it can be mapped. The path through the fields is therefore first of all a “trial path” (Holzweg), then a relationship of orientation with space, with the landscape and places (Wegmarken)—and not with the history of homogeneous thought, at least not primarily—, then a journey delivered to the horizontal development of the earth’s surface; the spirit does not invert, is not something that rises and falls, but rather, as is clear in the preludes of the dream, it rather spreads “over the broad surfaces of the earth, itself mountain and field and earth…”. Why the sky makes sense writes Cesare Pavese, who is perhaps the greatest poet of the landscape and earthliness of our twentieth century you must sink well black roots into the dark and if light flows right into the earth, like a shock, then even the peasants have a sense and cover the hills, immobile as if they were centuries, with green, with fruit and with houses and every plant at dawn would be a life.
The spirit spreads and covers the surfaces, the timeless hills, within a “closed” that we might say, delimits the absolute terrestrial; not therefore “celestial earth,” as has also been said, but rather, on the contrary, terrestrial sky, in the sense that it is the earth that has a sky, and not vice versa.
Finally, this image of the path, refers to a dialectic between ‘locality’ and ‘dislocation’, between rooting and deterritorialization. In the very near future, every thought begins. The landscape determines our first meditations. Our thoughtfulness is initially perhaps nourished by nothing but landscape. In the landscape and in the mother tongue, our ancestral sensibility is preserved and transmitted. The earth, not as a unifying symbol, but as this concrete relationship with a particular place-territory, gathers and preserves what, eluding manipulability, is free from technique: the faces of the ancestors inscribed in the folds of the landscape, the small cemetery up on the coast, where the ancestors insist and things that last forever. But without a dialectic between rooting and deterritorialization, between remembrance and flight, between the Langhe and Turin or the southern seas (to remain with Pavese), the call to the earth is useless rhetoric. Provincial thought unfolds this dialectic. But this dialectic does not reconstruct the universal, does not restore the eternal, does not provide global solutions, does not console, does not expand knowledge, and does not legitimize political choices. It might be said that it, very imperfectly, articulates local truths and transient facts within a concrete morality, also constantly in transit, aimed at clearing the path for the journey of a restricted community, in search of autonomy and “property” in the drift of the West, in search of a possibility of coexistence in the continuum of conflict, in search of a right and a victimizing responsibility in the deflecting system of laws and universalistic ties, and, finally, perhaps, in search of a terrestrial religion in the decline of Transcendence.
Geophilosophy is thus not, strictly speaking, either a new theoretical proposal or political, even if it has its own theoretical consistency and politics to be carried out, but rather a way of giving itself to thought “from the lucid fury that smolders in the somber thoughtfulness of peripheral recesses.” As such, it is but a transitory and lateral phenomenon, exactly as brigandage was caught between the decline of the ancien régime and the advent of the new political organ, the liberal State.

 

 

 

Geopolitics: a Philosophical Approach

 

 

 

These my brand-new reflections on geopolitics present it as a philosophical field, emphasizing the influence of geography on political strategies and the impact of geopolitical actions on collective identities and human conditions. It integrates classical philosophical thoughts on power and State acts, aiming to deepen the understanding of nations’ strategic behaviours and ethical considerations. This reflective approach seeks to enhance insights into global interactions and the shaping of geopolitical landscapes.

 

The Geo-Philosophy

Part III

 

 

Geophilosophy means first and foremost what its name suggests: geo-philosophy, philosophy of the earth. However, the sense of the genitive, which, as is well known, can be understood in a dual sense, remains unprejudiced. In a subjective sense, the expression “philosophy of the earth” is philosophically banal, as it refers to cosmology if by “earth” we mean the orb, or to natural philosophy or Physics if by “earth” we mean the phýsei onta, the beings that come from Phýsis and that are therefore determined by kínesis, or “motility,” or even to anthropology if by “earth” we mean that sector of being that constitutes the subordinate complement of the sphere of transcendence: ethics as the determination of the good, aesthetics as the determination of the beautiful, law as the determination of the just, and politics as the determination of the good life.
In an objective sense, “philosophy of the earth” can still mean two things:
the earth of philosophy, in an emphatic sense, that is, the homeland, or, as is said today under the influence of a great and controversial master like Heidegger, the Heimat, the native place or womb from which thought is placed or re-placed in the world;
or the being delivered (of thought) to the earth, the absolute terrestriality of thought, its prison, to put it with Nietzsche—if we rightly understand his appeal to fidelity to the earth—, and thus again anthropology, but in a very different sense from the one previously mentioned.
Taken in the objective sense, the expression “philosophy of the earth” can thus mean either a reference to the transcendence of being, which would be the true homeland-motherland of thought (thought is of being, it belongs to it, it is it that places it in the world), or a reference to a plane of “absolute immanence,” on which the human and the historical find consistency but where there is no longer any trace of Man or of History, in which the celestial is contemplated, but only as a possible dimension of an absolute terrestrial, the theological problem is admitted but only as a problem internal to the horizon of an absolute anthropological. Such a thought more than ascertains the fall of man into a closed system; it expresses it, is, so to speak, the symptomatic manifestation of it.
Taken in the objective sense, the expression “philosophy of the earth” thus refers to two irreconcilable things, of which only one is geophilosophy in the sense mentioned above, that is, a thought of local instances, a “Lutheran” use of the mind, and a thought of immanence. Every other meaning of the term refers instead, always anew, to the philosophical primacy of theology.


In general, philosophy is precisely the attempt to assume the earth in the cone of light of an “elevated” and “eternal” gaze capable of embracing everything with a single glance (Plato: synoptikós), or of thinking the whole or the conditions of possibility of the whole (Kant) and thus reflecting its elements and articulations in relation to God or its secularized substitute, the subject, who of God, as Deleuze wrote, conserves precisely the essential: the place. The metric of philosophizing therefore admits, as its only dimension, the verticality; its presupposition is that the whole is transparent in all senses; its perfection is theology; its movement a movement of seesawing between up and down: 1. elevatory perspective, aimed at comprehending all differences and their relationships; 2. descensio ordinatoria, tending to organize and distribute as much meaning as possible.
To make this step, to discover this path between the cracks and in the dysfunction of the Western project, is not, however, professional philosophy, but rather the instances that were traditionally excluded: feminine domestic thoughtfulness, the somber provincial disposition to obsessive fantasies. These instances, emancipated by the expansive movement of the West (urbanized, technologized, acculturated, deprovincialized), suddenly restored as much to the freedom of thought as to the truth of their origins, suffer here an essential shock: faced with the discovery of being nothing other than the silent reserve of the homogeneous world, of the legal and thought community, seized at the edges of historical existence, the primary gesture with which they make their entrance onto the undifferentiated plane of the human is a gesture of refusal or, to be more precise, of withdrawal, of flight toward the thicket. Such “withdrawal” is akin to what Jünger called “passing into the woods,” but it is also an ascent toward the dawn of civilization, toward the prehistoric point at which separation and exclusion have not yet occurred, toward that zero degree of the West in which thought, springing forth, can be founded only on the absence of authority and is therefore, to put it with Bataille, a sovereign gesture, toward the point at which events, occurring, show their radical gratuitousness and in which the state is present rather as pure and simple par-oikía, a system of neighborhood, a form of condominium: neither peace nor war it might be said, mere coexistence—after all, it must be considered that peace is a pure fiction, as it can occur only as the nullification of conflict, brutal subjugation, or annihilation of the enemy as enemy. Such “withdrawal” expresses the refusal to assimilate to the productive homogeneity of the philosophy of the State and the estrangement with respect to its system of legitimation, the derision of its pedagogical function, and the horror for its professionalism. It is for this reason that geophilosophy, at the exact point where it flows, presents itself with the features of a wild thought, not conforming to the educational standards of public philosophy and thus as an uneducated, non-orthopedicized, implausible thought, to which, by definition, the consent of the scientific community cannot go—and therefore also a thought “false” or a false thought and, finally, as an illegal thought, disrespectful of the protocols and legality of scientific practices. Its methodological approach will appear rather as brigandage—this is the meaning to be attributed to the expression “Lutheranism of the mind,” at least from the perspective of homogeneous philosophy: it involves the exercise of something like a “free examination” conducted on texts that the philosophical church transmits, in a sacralizing manner, within a consolidated magisterium; free examination that, in the most extreme situations, may also appear as wild textualism or a sort of methodological vampirism.
Geophilosophy as such arises from a withdrawal of thought, from a wilding, from an attempt to gain not an elevated point of view, but a point of departure as external, lateral, and foreign to the procedures of homogeneous thought as possible. This at least is its public image, its cultural image. From the “geo-” perspective, what here appears as an ensemble of implausible forms presents itself instead now as a fight against culture, now as a revolt against politics, now as a movement of secretion, disappearance, and impulse to autonomy, now as a victimizing philosophy (the assumption of the viewpoint of the victim and the criminal instead of that of the community and the state—the geophilosophy indicates, moreover, an absolute victim, a paradigm of victim: the ἱδιότηϛ, the excluded from common thought, but also the being that stands alone, the private, the domestic, the paysan, the woman, the excluded from the political community and finally the excluded from the historical community, that is, the being without past and future).

 

 

 

L’etica protestante e lo spirito del capitalismo
di Max Weber

Il benessere materiale voluto da Dio

 

 

 

 

L’etica protestante e lo spirito del capitalismo di Max Weber, pubblicata nel 1905, è un’opera fondamentale che sonda l’influenza della religione sullo sviluppo economico e culturale dell’Occidente. Attraverso un’analisi meticolosa e interdisciplinare, l’Autore intreccia filosofia, storia, letteratura e religione, per rivelare come l’etica protestante abbia contribuito a modellare il moderno capitalismo.
Il filosofo-sociologo principia con un’indagine filosofica sul senso del lavoro nella società capitalista, postulando che la “professione” o “vocazione” (Beruf, che nel suo significato di “compito assegnato da Dio” trae origine della traduzione luterana della Bibbia) sia diventata un elemento cardinale per comprendere l’individualismo occidentale. Esamina il concetto di predestinazione calvinista e la sua influenza sullo sviluppo di un’etica del lavoro, argomentando come il successo materiale venisse spesso visto quale segno dell’elezione divina. Questa fusione tra il dovere religioso e l’attività economica offre una lente filosofica unica per vagliare la natura del capitalismo, dove il lavoro non è solo una necessità economica ma anche un imperativo morale.
Storicamente, Weber collega lo sviluppo del capitalismo moderno a specifici periodi e regioni, in cui il protestantesimo era prevalente, in particolare il nord Europa e le parti degli Stati Uniti colonizzate dai puritani, mostrando come queste aree abbiano adottato il capitalismo come sistema economico ed ethos culturale, influenzandone profondamente le strutture politiche e sociali. Weber utilizza una vasta gamma di dati storici per tracciare le correlazioni tra pratiche religiose e sviluppi economici, provando che il protestantesimo abbia fornito lo “spirito” necessario per la nascita del capitalismo.
Dal punto di vista letterario, l’opera è un capolavoro di narrazione analitica. Con un linguaggio chiaro e accurato, Weber trasforma argomenti complessi in un racconto affascinante, che si legge quasi come un romanzo storico. L’uso di fonti primarie, sermoni e diari arricchisce il testo, presentando uno sguardo autentico sulle convinzioni e sulle pratiche dei protestanti dell’epoca. La sua capacità di tessere insieme aneddoti e analisi è un esempio eccellente di come la scrittura accademica possa essere rigorosa ma anche coinvolgente.
L’aspetto religioso è il più centrale nel lavoro di Weber. Egli dettaglia minuziosamente le dottrine del calvinismo, del luteranesimo e di altre sètte protestanti, sottolineando come queste abbiano prediletto la disciplina, l’ascetismo e l’etica del lavoro. Non solo descrive le pratiche, ma le interpreta in relazione allo sviluppo economico, proponendo una tesi provocatoria: la religione ha plasmato le sfere personali della vita, avendo anche avuto un impatto profondo e diretto sul corso economico e sociale del mondo occidentale.
L’analisi si concentra significativamente sulle divergenze tra le visioni luterano-calviniste e quelle cattoliche, in particolare riguardo al lavoro e al profitto. Queste differenze teologiche ed etiche non solo hanno influenzato la vita dei fedeli ma hanno anche avuto un impatto profondo sullo sviluppo economico nei vari contesti geografici e storici.


Il cuore dello studio di Weber è nel modo in cui il calvinismo ha interpretato la predestinazione e il lavoro. Secondo la dottrina calvinista, il destino eterno dell’uomo è predestinato da Dio e non può essere cambiato; tuttavia, segni di una vita favorita da Dio possono manifestarsi attraverso il successo e la prosperità nel mondo terreno. Il lavoro, quindi, assume una dimensione quasi sacra – non solo è un dovere verso Dio ma diventa anche un segno del favore divino. Questa interpretazione è meno accentuata nel luteranesimo, per cui comunque il lavoro è ritenuto una vocazione divina, un mezzo attraverso cui il fedele serve Dio nella vita quotidiana. La prosperità risultante dal lavoro diligente ed etico non è però considerata come un fine in sé ma come una conferma che si sta vivendo una vita in linea con i comandamenti divini. In questo modo, il profitto e il successo economico sono accettabili e addirittura potenzialmente indicativi di salvezza.
Al contrario, la dottrina cattolica tradizionale non pone un’enfasi simile sulla predestinazione o sul successo economico come segno di salvezza. Il cattolicesimo, con la sua struttura ecclesiastica più centralizzata e la dottrina della libera volontà, permette ai fedeli di influenzare il proprio destino spirituale attraverso le opere, inclusi i sacramenti e la carità. Il lavoro ha sì un valore etico e spirituale, ma è disgiunto dalla nozione di predestinazione. Di conseguenza, il profitto e il successo materiale sono visti in una luce più neutra o persino problematica, se perseguiti a scapito di valori più elevati.
Weber ritiene che la visione calvinista del profitto come segno di grazia divina abbia giocato un ruolo chiave nella formazione dell’etica del capitalismo. L’accumulo di ricchezza, purché ottenuto attraverso il duro lavoro e l’adempimento etico, era percepito come moralmente accettabile e anche desiderabile, un’indicazione della propria elezione. Ciò contrasta nettamente con la visione più scettica o critica del profitto che si può trovare in molte interpretazioni cattoliche, dove l’accumulo eccessivo di ricchezza è considerato un ostacolo alla vera pietà e un rischio di corruzione spirituale.
La visione protestante, pertanto, con la sua interpretazione del lavoro e del profitto, ha favorito un ambiente in cui il capitalismo non solo è nato ma è anche fiorito, mentre la tradizione cattolica ha promosso un approccio più cauto ed equilibrato verso il successo materiale.
L’etica protestante e lo spirito del capitalismo è un’opera straordinariamente ricca e complessa, che spinge i lettori a considerare il ruolo della religione e dell’etica nell’economia moderna. Weber fornisce la base per ulteriori studi interdisciplinari e invita altresì a una riflessione critica su come i valori culturali e religiosi continuino a influenzare le pratiche economiche contemporanee.

 

 

 

 

Geopolitics: a Philosophical Approach

 

 

 

These my brand-new reflections on geopolitics present it as a philosophical field, emphasizing the influence of geography on political strategies and the impact of geopolitical actions on collective identities and human conditions. It integrates classical philosophical thoughts on power and State acts, aiming to deepen the understanding of nations’ strategic behaviours and ethical considerations. This reflective approach seeks to enhance insights into global interactions and the shaping of geopolitical landscapes.

 

The Geo-Philosophy

Part II

 

 

The phase of the maintenance of our form of civilization unfolds between two apparently opposite and incompatible moments: synthesis and desynthesis. However, the “expansion” of the system has ultimately led to an irreversible crisis. The “crisis” of the West is not due to the incursion of an allotropic element, but to the simple fact that, through expansion, the political grinds down all that is non-political, the metropolis relentlessly grinds down the provincial and the peripheral, urbanism swallows the countryside, the forest, the mountain…, the philosophical absorbs all that is non-philosophical (literature, art, cinema, television, the dream, madness…)—philosophy even amuses itself by producing its own deconstruction; while History grinds down all that is extra-historical, from peoples without history to the history of that which, not unfolding “in public,” would strictly be without history. Now, this expansion has resulted in what Baudrillard calls “implosion,” that is, the “chemical” suspension of all classic opposition in a solution of reversibility or random aggregation, or anyway, according to laws not reducible to any known reference. Such a suspended state is what I call “desynthesis.”
Desynthesis should be understood not as a sort of reflux, but as a movement of drift, like the expression “galactic drift” in the Big Bang theory. The mutual distancing of nebulae here corresponds to the mutual distancing of State, History, and Philosophy and their internal parts from each other; it involves the disarray of the Western system or, more specifically, the breakdown of the system of legitimation of the Western use of the mind, and thus also the dysfunction of the project that refers to that use.


That there is desynthesis can be inferred indirectly from what we might call the Doppler effect of Western civilization, a sort of “redshift” of the “light” emanating from various formations of the objective spirit in which State, History, and Philosophy are variously intertwined.
The Doppler effect we are discussing consists, for example, of the recording of the decline of the universalistic model of the European nation-state and, more specifically, in the shift of political and legal investments to the local and territorial, such that statehood seems to produce more as a multiplicity of subversive pushes than as a totalization of collective existence in the ethno-political universality of the nation. To biopolitics as the perfection of Western statehood (the subsumption of life as a biological fact under a power that acts with aesthetic nonchalance) is substituted a sort of geopolitics of territorial instances (the dissemination of the political in the folds of the concrete territoriality and domesticity of existence). Thus, philosophy no longer produces itself as a national educational project, but as a sort of concrete morality that articulates local truths and transient facts for the use of restricted communities. To the university philosophy, which untangled universal teachings for a community without particularistic divisions within it, and thus an ethnically, legally, and politically homogeneous community—which guaranteed the universality of education through a system of public degrees and certificates—is juxtaposed something like a thought that speaks without legitimation, without authority, without certifications, and therefore a thought ‘gone wild,’ or better said, ‘uncivilized,’ which moves from a retreat to territorial belonging rather than from an imperial investiture. To hermeneutics as the perfection of the public philosophy of the late twentieth century is substituted a thought of local instances, a geo-philosophy; to the image of the state professor, the meticulous philologist, the pedagogue, the jealous guardian of orthodoxy, and the accumulator of glosses is juxtaposed, precisely in the sense that it slips to the side, to the right, that of the corsair thinker or, better yet, pirate, vampyr, one who sucks the soul (the juice, the sap of a thought) introducing into bodies (his public image) a spirit that does not correspond (Wild textualism)—to the productivity and commensurability of philosophical work, typical moreover of every homogeneous formation, is substituted a sort of heterogeneous dissemination of the thinking function, a shift in the register of thought from accumulation to expenditure, from education to conspiracy, from capital to treasure, from universal power to transitory munificence. On this basis is forming another economy of thought that alongside the global governance of the mind affixes something like a liberalism or an anarchism of its use, to the catholicism of thought (revelation + tradition + magisterium) juxtaposes a mind unaware of the revelativity of philosophy, disacknowledging the magisterium of clerics and exercising a sort of free examination of tradition: Lutheranism of the mind.
(Finally, the same can be said for historicity. This no longer produces itself as the unisignificance of the world and facts. To the homogeneous and transferable spiritual heritage of nations is substituted the experience of discontinuity and rupture, to universal history the incommensurability of the historical experiences of concrete local communities.)

 

 

 

Geopolitics: a Philosophical Approach

 

 

 

These my brand-new reflections on geopolitics present it as a philosophical field, emphasizing the influence of geography on political strategies and the impact of geopolitical actions on collective identities and human conditions. It integrates classical philosophical thoughts on power and State acts, aiming to deepen the understanding of nations’ strategic behaviours and ethical considerations. This reflective approach seeks to enhance insights into global interactions and the shaping of geopolitical landscapes.

 

The Geo-Philosophy

Part I

 

 

Philosophy no longer makes individuals wiser nor does it impart wisdom; it neither aids in making beneficial life decisions nor does it bring happiness. However, it certainly does not leave everything unchanged—it is not a futile endeavour. This can be demonstrated through indirect reasoning, for instance by examining how political power has repeatedly striven to seize it or control its discourse.
Yet, the issue is more intricate and simultaneously more straightforward than it appears. First, because philosophy is not merely prey to the political; and second, because the relationship among philosophy, politics, and history is highly complex. It is only through the interplay of this complexity, resembling the ever-changing patterns of a kaleidoscope, that we can glean insights into the characteristics of our way of life, our culture, traditionally referred to as the “West.”
It is thus possible to begin with the observation that philosophy is a fundamental and essential aspect of the “Western project.”
The need to define this term (“Western project”) necessitates first clarifying what “project” implies here. If by project we mean looking forward, the foresight of what will be done, and the structured plan of a construction, then it can be defined as the plan that allows us to foresee everything that needs to be done to then tackle a specific construction.
In general, the blueprint upon which our way of life was developed and built includes three constructive orders: the organization of coexistence, the continuity of events, and the certification of beliefs. The West is an ongoing construction whose unfolding is articulated as a combination of these three problem-solving constructs. On the plane of coexistence, the Western project unfolds as a state organization; on that of eventuality and its impermanence, it unfolds as History; and on that of belief and its uncertainty, it unfolds as Philosophy. The State organizes the community, History retains events, Philosophy transforms faith into truth.


One might wonder in what sense philosophy certifies belief, and the answer is that philosophy arises and establishes itself in opposition to myth. The struggle between philosophy and myth is authoritatively attested by Plato. This struggle is primarily a battle for control over the education system (Paideia) and unfolds in three ways: 1. the exclusion of poets, that is, the wise producers of myths, from the Polis; 2. the repositioning of mythical wisdom in a subordinate role to philosophical knowledge; 3. an unequivocal condemnation of the sophist, that is, the practitioner of a private and thus particularistic Paideia, and moreover in exchange for money.
Philosophy firstly rejects the mere faith-based nature of myth (that which is strongly believed is true) and its inability to establish itself as an exclusive sphere, thereby preemptively invalidating the emergence of other myths, and thus of different and conflicting truths. Philosophy counters the particular knowledge of myth and sophistry with the idea of a universal and incontrovertible knowledge. Now, the philosopher’s certainty of possessing absolutely certain knowledge is based on the acquisition of two notions: 1. truth as unveiling (Alétheia); 2. Being as totality (En-pan). By invoking these two notions, philosophy asserts itself as a total, exclusive faith: philosophy is the eternal and ubiquitous knowledge of the unveiled, that is, of that which, remaining unchangeably in the philosopher’s gaze, is always and everywhere true.
The extent to which this conviction is in turn a belief is something that, following the break from Hegelianism, will be categorically highlighted. Philosophy is no more a certain knowledge than myth was, with the difference that this myth, which is philosophy, has found in the coordination with the State and with History the means to suppress, disqualify, or annihilate any different use of the mind.
State, History, and philosophy are not independent magnitudes. Together, they constitute the response to the problems of the incompatibility of coexistence, the impermanence of events, and the uncertainty of belief, whose kaleidoscopic interplay forms the ever-changing, yet always unified, shape of Western civilization. It could be said that each of these magnitudes presupposes and inevitably refers back to the other two, and that none of the three would have the meaning they do outside of their mutual and triadic relationship, nor could they be separated from this relationship without compromising the entire system’s structure, thereby somehow causing its breakdown. This is a system of transparent planes, each bearing a design; their overlapping, in multiple combinations, gives us the complete design of Western Kultur. What allows the reading of the three planes as a civilization project is thus their very transparency. This system of complex overlays could be termed the Western synthesis, namely the union, the joint capacity for promotion, and the mobile connection of State, History, and Philosophy, along with the transparency of each plane relative to the others.
For instance, knowledge that sought certainty outside the constraints imposed by historical existence would be nothing more than the myth against which Plato fought to establish philosophy as the foundation of all public education. Moreover, if there were no centralized and singular control over the education system, if the Paideia presented itself as a multiplicity of conflicting and irreducible proposals, then there would not be a State, i.e., there would not be a single system of publicity and therefore not even a single system of meaning, there would not be that Einsinningkeit, that unisignificance of facts that is the foundation of the Western mind. In its place, we would have something like a plurality of private meanings and disparate images, and thus the possibility, always given, of their irreconcilable conflict; we would have something powerful, tyrannical, and at the same time inert, flaccid, treacherous, something both superstitious and simultaneously dazzling like a foggy lunar night, like a charming creature yet veiled in damp mists, dim, feverish, internally corrupt and contradictory like Madame Chaucaht.
Thus, the West is primarily a State, that is, the opening of a public space measured by Man, whose measure is Man but only insofar as he is philosophically educated—thus: Homo philosophicus and not “man” simply. The West, following the metaphors of the Magic Mountain, is the “clear day,” the “daylight” where things appear in their incontrovertible objectivity, and “cold,” that is, rational, and finally “glassy,” that is, transparent, unambiguous. This public space, rational, objective, and unambiguous is the realm of manifestation of meaningful events. The meaning of such events, for the philosophically educated being, is univocal, that is, universally comprehensible and transmissible. Such events are thus, so to speak, “eternal facts,” which precisely means: transmissible according to a single meaning. For this reason, they are said to belong to History. History is not the space of facts that simply happen and to which “man” simply conforms, but the realm of the happening of “eternal facts,” which are “facts” only for the Homo politico-philosophicus.

 

 

 

Geopolitics: a Philosophical Approach

 

 

 

These my brand-new reflections on geopolitics present it as a philosophical field, emphasizing the influence of geography on political strategies and the impact of geopolitical actions on collective identities and human conditions. It integrates classical philosophical thoughts on power and State acts, aiming to deepen the understanding of nations’ strategic behaviours and ethical considerations. This reflective approach seeks to enhance insights into global interactions and the shaping of geopolitical landscapes.

 

Geopolitics and Philosophy

Part III

 

There is no History without a State; there is no State without self-consciousness; there is no self-consciousness without History. Geopolitics describes self-consciousness as awareness of what one is by virtue of what one has been. In other terms, it is the consciousness of one’s community identity deriving from factors such as belonging to a territory, a certain ethnicity, religion, but above all from the historical depth of its origin. This awareness is what allows the community to remain united and to deduce objectives and possible future trajectories. In philosophy, self-consciousness is a central theme, both in the individual and collective sense. It is a dynamic concept that starts from the intuition of one’s identity, passes through opposition with multiplicity and its loss, and then returns to itself as a completed identity, aware of itself and that the world before it is its own production. If knowledge is power, and therefore every Philo-Sophia is intimately a Krato-Sophia, self-consciousness is the first representation of this power. This is expressed in the solidity of one’s identity and the awareness of being able to determine the object before oneself.
To understand how much strength there is in the knowledge of self-consciousness, one need only observe the weakness of those who believe they can do without it. A prime example is the European Union. A subject that is in truth an object, since it has not emerged from the people but was constructed above them. Based on interest, not identity. An object without self-consciousness because it is populated by a multitude of unlinked self-consciousnesses. Laws and regulations, a common market, and elections are of no use. If there is no identity that comes from below, aware of itself, the object will always remain an object, namely a pure abstraction. An artifact. Its irrelevance on the global stage is the clearest demonstration of what has just been asserted. The European Union is a sin of pride that violates the ontological grammar that wants the concept to adhere to the object. A concept that thinks the object as if it were a subject is an abstraction that can never be realized. The presumption lies in believing that one can determine subjects (different from oneself) rather than objects.


The idea that the subject produces the object; that self-consciousness is founded on the identity of opposites; that in short, reality is an extension of the subject itself and that self-consciousness can be reached when it is understood that externality does not exist as such but simply as my production; this conception, fascinating and powerful, however, conceals within its folds a huge risk. On one hand, it explains the creative force of man, the evolution of collective (as well as individual) consciousness, and the ability of a community to impose itself on others coveting glory; on the other, it predisposes to the error of extending one’s subjectivity (individual and collective) beyond its proper limits. Philosophy has the great merit of explaining how will rises above necessity. At the same time, however, once this process is completed, it exchanges the potency of the will for the will to omnipotence, reversing the relationship between necessity and will and thus contradicting the initial premises. As if, once completed, that subjectivity could divest itself of what it was to freely decide what will be. As if its path had not the simple objective of being completed, but of freeing itself from the necessity that brought it to be what it is. Thus, as if it were an unfortunate fate, as soon as self-consciousness is achieved, given the sense of power it confers, one is instantly driven to surpass the boundaries of one’s being. A sin of pride detectable whenever a community confuses cause and effect in observing itself and the world. When it places its creations (moral laws, ideologies) as primary causes, engines of historical becoming, and not mere effects deriving from much more substantial (and necessary) elements. A flaw to which man is unable to escape, leading to interpretations such as those according to which the ideological and institutional framework of a country is what determines its international posture, and not merely a costume that a community wears as a tool to justify and pursue its ambitions, which precede and determine the attire to be worn. On this, geopolitics has made progress, adjusting the aim of philosophy and reminding ourselves that, however intoxicated one may be in handling the tools of reason, omnipotence remains a limit beyond which one cannot escape.
In conclusion, having observed the interconnection of the two disciplines and how much one can offer the other, we hope that philosophy, discovering how useful it is (despite itself) in understanding the present, will finally overcome the taboos of the past and return to dealing with what is proper to it.

 

 

 

Geopolitics: a Philosophical Approach

 

 

 

These my brand-new reflections on geopolitics present it as a philosophical field, emphasizing the influence of geography on political strategies and the impact of geopolitical actions on collective identities and human conditions. It integrates classical philosophical thoughts on power and State acts, aiming to deepen the understanding of nations’ strategic behaviours and ethical considerations. This reflective approach seeks to enhance insights into global interactions and the shaping of geopolitical landscapes.

 

Geopolitics and Philosophy

Part II

 

We already anticipate the criticism—hardly original—that this vision of the Whole represents an oppressive concept that erases differences. A charge often levied against Hegel, likely because one has not even read the preface of the Phenomenology of Spirit, in which Hegel himself levels this accusation against the thought of Schelling, from whom such a consequence could indeed be deduced. The philosopher from Jena dismisses this absurd perspective in a few lines: “Now, to oppose the differentiated and complete knowledge, or the knowledge that seeks and demands completeness, to this single knowledge for which in the Absolute all is equal, or to peddle one’s Absolute as the night in which, as the saying goes, all cows are black: well, all this is nothing but the ingenuity of an empty knowledge.”
The Whole we discuss here, therefore, is not a darkening totality that obliterates every difference, but rather a Whole where the parts acquire their raison d’être; where the relationships that emerge from the differences configure a totality to be grasped. Not unlinked individualities, nor annulled individualities, but individualities that through the travail of relation become themselves within the Whole. This is the principle of human communities, the subject of geopolitics. They do not annul individualities but are an expression of them. Communities are not abstract entities imposed from above but concrete essences that emerge from below.
Geopolitics and philosophy, therefore, have human communities as their subject and aim to understand them in their full expressive totality, that is, in the synthesis of their internal and external relationships. To comprehend their structure, it is essential to grasp what is substantial. Not to be dazzled by chronicles and breaking news, but to seek beneath the veil of appearances what makes a people what it is. Only by looking at the essential can we consider the community in its totality. Only thus is it possible to discern the necessary from the accessory. Based on this distinction, a multiplicity of individuals takes shape as a unit. If the character of the community is the necessary and that of the individual the accessory, these qualities of being extend to their historical becoming. Geopolitics well understands that, just as it is easier to approximate the behavior of a molecule rather than that of an atom, so it is possible to anticipate the development of a community while it will be impossible to do the same for a single individual. The Whole exhibits more regular and predictable behaviors compared to the individual parts. The necessary character does not concern the inevitability of what will be, but rather the anticipation or prediction of it. The necessary is traceable in certain characteristics of the substance and these allow for the tracing of a possible future trajectory. When geopolitical analysts talk about the constraints and imperatives of a community, these are nothing but the declination of the necessity of being in the field of what can be.


Philosophy is what allows us to grasp the “spirit of the people,” its substance, and thus the necessary. Geopolitics uses this human analysis and adds as a corollary, other points of observation: geographical, economic, political, military, technological, and cultural analyses—these revolve around the first and not vice versa, for it is always the subject that determines the object and not the opposite. The endpoint of philosophy is the fundamental starting point of geopolitics.
If the concrete is the whole, philosophy has always attempted to grasp it. It has sought, that is, to conceptualize the concrete, to rationalize the real. This does not mean believing that human reality is inherently rational, but that it, as a product of humanity, is rationalizable, understandable. Irrationality is never banned, at most misunderstood. One can rationalize what seems irrational, understand what logically appears inconvenient and contrary to the interest of those who enact it. This is the main reason why deterministic prediction is impossible.
Philosophy, once it has grasped the contradictory substance of the real, and while postulating its constant becoming, has refrained from going beyond its time. It has instead positioned itself at the window, satisfied with having understood what has now closed and waiting for the owl of Minerva to whisper a new past reality at dusk. If philosophy is thus its own time apprehended through thought, geopolitics is the thought of its own time translated into the concrete. Philosophy looks at what has already been realized; geopolitics takes up the work of philosophy to try to understand what will be realized.
If what has been said so far is clear, it logically follows the centrality of the State and History. The former, not understood exclusively as the National State, but as every statal representation of a community, which includes the Greek poleis, medieval communes and duchies, up to empires and national states. The form changes, not the substance. Regarding History, we might say, with Hegel, that it includes both the historia rerum gestarum and the res gestae, i.e., it encompasses both the objective aspect (what happened) and the subjective aspect (its narration). The need to tell oneself, to describe oneself, arises with the establishment of the State. This takes shape as a system of laws and customs of a certain people in a specific geographic space. In its emergence, it also brings forth the people’s interest in narrating their actions, both to keep track of events useful for organization (documents) and because it is necessary to feed self-consciousness (epics, tragedies, comedies, etc.). On the other hand, in the absence of a State—as in those communities representing the mere extension of a lineage and for nomadic communities—the community does not desire to describe itself but rather feels the need to justify its presence in the world. Justification that cannot be drawn from the presence of a State and the ownership of land. In such contexts, religious narratives and revealed truths take the place of History, for only transcendence can fill the void left by the State. It is the latter, then, that gives rise to History.

 

 

 

 

Geopolitics: a Philosophical Approach

 

 

 

These my brand-new reflections on geopolitics present it as a philosophical field, emphasizing the influence of geography on political strategies and the impact of geopolitical actions on collective identities and human conditions. It integrates classical philosophical thoughts on power and State acts, aiming to deepen the understanding of nations’ strategic behaviours and ethical considerations. This reflective approach seeks to enhance insights into global interactions and the shaping of geopolitical landscapes.

 

Geopolitics and Philosophy

Part I

 

It is essential to clarify from the outset the following: this discussion treats philosophy and geopolitics as if they were monolithic entities, which they decidedly are not. Therefore, let us immediately define our points of reference: the geopolitical perspective referred to here can be termed “geopolitical humanism,” found in key journals and think tanks; philosophically, it aligns with the thought of Hegel.
Further clarification is necessary: unlike philosophical orthodoxy, which is quick to excommunicate those who engage with thoughts of others through a “cut and sew” approach—selecting the admirable elements, adding parts, and discarding the rest to construct their thesis—we elevate such excommunication to a virtue. We adhere to the teachings of Alexandre Kojève who stated, “I was relatively unconcerned with what Hegel himself intended to convey in his book; I delivered a course on phenomenological anthropology using Hegelian texts, only expressing what I deemed to be the truth, disregarding what seemed erroneous in Hegel.”
We prefer this approach, extracting the valuable contributions of Hegel, the unparalleled genius from whom numerous thinkers and geopolitical analysts have inevitably drawn insight.
With this premise set, let us begin at the beginning. Geopolitics has become a ubiquitous term. Used either appropriately or inappropriately, praised or obstructed, it is undeniable that it has made significant inroads into public opinion, intellectual circles, and even the academic realm. For many, the explanation for its success is readily articulated: the proliferation of crises and chaos, the reshaping of the international order, and the emergence of new challenges among major powers raise questions to which geopolitics provides answers. However, this response is not adequate. We should first ask why similar success has not been observed for political science and international relations, or why economics, which once seemed sufficient to describe and predict the world’s course, is not appealed to in the same way.
Naïve critics of geopolitics—often belonging to the aforementioned disciplines—superficially attribute its success to media overexposure. This explanation is fundamentally flawed. It suggests exposure as the cause of success rather than its effect and fails to explain why the same principle does not apply to all disciplines that have enjoyed similar visibility.
Reducing the success of any discipline to the mediation of knowledge does a disservice to both humanity and scholarship. This mistake is due to a logical fallacy that imagines the worlds of media and civil society developing in parallel—as if the former is not included in the latter, as if it is not a representation of it.


The success of geopolitics can be explained differently. It addresses the distinctly human need (and often criticized) to understand the world’s full expressive range. The necessity to comprehend the entirety through a holistic approach; to know the whole from every possible angle. Geopolitics is not merely a specialized knowledge but a catalyst of knowledge, and its explanatory power (and thus its appeal) lies precisely in its ability to facilitate dialogue between specific knowledges to achieve a comprehensive representation of the whole. “Truth is the whole. However, the whole is merely the essence completing itself through its development.”
When geopolitics critiques economism, for instance, it is merely cautioning against the fallacy of specialized knowledge. Economics is not excluded from geopolitical analysis; rather, it is not elevated to the role of a deus ex machina of reality.
The need for philosophy and geopolitics arises when history ceases to progress inertly; when the present begins to show its age. When the Aufhebung is underway, humanity feels the need to drive change. It is at this juncture that these disciplines become indispensable: philosophy allows us to understand our own time through thought (as Hegel’s owl of Minerva, which takes flight at dusk, when the phase is just completed) and geopolitics, incorporating this understanding of the previous phase, seeks to determine the next phase based on this awareness.
Truth is the whole because the concrete is the entirety, while the abstract is the partial. Deceived by decades of scientism, we have internalized the notion that, contrary to fact, the concrete is found in the part, in the specificity, in the irreducible multiplicity of diversity which would negate any totality because such a totality would obliterate all heterogeneity “like a gunshot.” This ontological principle correlates with the methodological one, which finds its raison d’être in the experimental method: to isolate the part from the whole to understand its specificity and, from this, attempt to deduce universal laws. This stance is suitable for the natural sciences, but in human affairs, it can only contribute, not dominate. In the impersonality of nature, indeed, an accurate abstraction of the part from the whole can rightly be considered a faithful representation of the Whole itself, if it reproduces its properties. However, humanity has an ontological surplus that prevents such an approach. Consciousness and volition are inseparable from the place and time in which they are immersed. It is not feasible to isolate individuals, study them in a laboratory, and from them derive universal laws that would hold for the past and the future. Thus, contrary to common belief today, the concrete is the whole because only when immersed in the entirety does it reveal its true nature; while separation from the context, the construction of the “case,” and the partiality of observation lead to mere abstractions. These are not falsehoods, but the plausible, hence the non-true. It is clear, then, that the totality of being can only be grasped with the totality of knowing, that is, through knowledge that observes being from various angles and through reason that synthesizes the parts, recognizing them as participants in the determination of the Whole.

 

 

 

 

Geopolitics: a Philosophical Approach

 

 

These my brand-new reflections on geopolitics present it as a philosophical field, emphasizing the influence of geography on political strategies and the impact of geopolitical actions on collective identities and human conditions. It integrates classical philosophical thoughts on power and State acts, aiming to deepen the understanding of nations’ strategic behaviours and ethical considerations. This reflective approach seeks to enhance insights into global interactions and the shaping of geopolitical landscapes.

 

A Philosophy of Geopolitics

Part II

 

The neglect of substantial plurality precedes a deontological approach to historical action that denies any normative significance to any semantics of interest. The choice of “semantics” is deliberate: what we commonly encounter is a widespread aversion to a normative sense that is embodied in a subjectivity, or in a design, preceding the specific meaning conveyed by any particular historical interest. Every productive impulse, and thus every theoretical justification for it, which finds its essential basis in a specific historical reality, is systematically stripped of any normative prerogative, hence any ethical character, the right to be included in a properly ethical discourse. Looking back, what might appear as an externality in a discourse of self-understanding of the historical subject is in fact a natural corollary: how to establish an ethical claim on a postulated reality? If the very existence of a particular historical reality is accidental, incidental, and almost necessarily an obstacle to any anthropological optimism, how can its value be recognized in a sense that is inherently intersubjective and often universally so? Moreover, while it might be strong to claim, thinking of Aristotle, that every ethics is an “ontoteleology”, the thought of ethics cannot be divorced from the thought of its field of application, particularly the subject that realizes it within that field. What, then, is the ethics, or rather, the field of ethics, that the thought of our epoch suggests to us? Perhaps by filling the argument with the typically Western content of entrenched rationalism, we are directed towards an ethically normative sense of truth. Truth must command: in this preliminary and purely abstract sense, the postmodernists have offered a truly effective critical reading. Ultimately, despite some voluntarist deviations, the West and Western thought have based their philosophy of praxis on analysis, on the (presumed?) ethical power of fact, of truth. The ups and downs of ethical intellectualism? Perhaps it is more accurate to speak of its depowered version, lacking the psychological assumptions universally imposed by the Socratic precedent. In any case, we are inclined to conceive of political action as directly emanating from the “right principles” (here too, we refer to Sieyes) and their more or less precise possession. “Auctoritas, non veritas, facit legem” is typically suspended as the cynical muttering of the darkest of philosophers, or occasionally applied as an interpretative lens to the status quo of countries that do not enjoy our certification of civilization. We prefer the faith-based, justificatory reference to a meta-historical, and thus meta-empirical, reality that would inevitably crown a political praxis consistent with it, thereby reversing the order of causes, which requires a deontological code as the luxury afforded by fulfilling one’s key strategic duties.
If political action results from the accessibility or, conversely, the obfuscation of political principles, it nonetheless means that there is a gradation among political realities that populate history. We indeed have a thematization of subjectivity, but only from these premises, which provide just enough space for a transient subjectivity, oriented towards its own obsolescence. Thus, the nation-State, protagonist of the modern saga despite hasty announcements of its demise. The State remains, however, only a significant example of a broader cultural text that develops around the theme of subjectivity. Kant’s famous response to the question of what Enlightenment is—man’s emergence from his self-imposed immaturity—illustrates a historical sense of subtraction, of clarification, of a fundamentally deconstructive and fundamentally cognitive work. Years later, a thinker aligned with quite different positions, Joseph De Maistre, will lament the historically deconstructive, diabolical significance of those philosophes, whom he never distinctly separates from the political protagonists of the French Revolution. Rightly so. The first revolution to be exported was not the Bolshevik one, but the French revolution; the ideological meaning of this export is to restore man to himself, against the powers of the old order that hold him hostage. Modernity delivers us a formally transient subjectivity, as a vector that ferries man outside of history. The specific content of this form is a pedagogical, educational content. It is futile to enumerate the ideal of civilization that guided the Age of Empires. However, with the reductio ad Americam of the West, this imaginary has been replaced by that, quite sensible, of the global policeman. A minimal discontinuity, certainly, but perhaps still imprecise. The fundamental ideological cipher remains not so much to punish but to educate, often combined in the illusion that imposing a minimal moralia will steer the course of things towards the inevitable arrival of the other at oneself. A “Foucauldian” policeman, who imposes discipline only because he is interested in the educational and productive sense it embodies. A policeman who can produce a discipline that stands on its own, well aware of the right principles that sustain it. A policeman who, therefore, has a historical task that on paper remains transient, occasional.


Geopolitics embodies a profoundly different epistemology. Truth finds its place only in the mapping of reality, but it plays no leading role. Or rather, it plays no unifying, distinguishing role. It does not animate history. In the analytical practice, truth is dethroned, sidelined; mapping reality means identifying the conflicting interests that traverse it, maintaining a decisive agnosticism about the real possibilities of sacrificing them in the name of a rational, communicative type of pacification. For such an approach, everything is equally legitimate: emotion, symbolism, irrationality. Everything that exists in reality, concerning which, we repeat, the observer’s task is merely one of simple mapping. The meta-empirical approach is disavowed, belittled. The only truth is the effective truth.
The conditions for such a pure fidelity to historical matter lie in the recognition of the substantial nature of the subjectivities that comprise it. This fits within a broader approach that loses all meta-historical trust, all eschatological deformation. Beyond history, nothing. The historical fact derives its legitimacy from itself, and relations with history are finally pacified. The only law is the ability to impose oneself, hence the accusations of cynicism directed at geopolitics. This too is an epistemological approach: it is not an exact science to be contrasted with the pseudoscience of modern political philosophy and its sole surviving offshoot, the liberal variant.
Geopolitics presents at a unique moment the alternative to the dual problematic of subjectivity developed earlier. By recognizing an absolute value in the subjectivities that populate history, by disavowing any possibility of misinterpreting them as “mis-leadings” or of arranging them according to a hierarchy of legitimacy, it recognizes their plurality. Plurality and substantiality, therefore. The possibility of imagining a monistic meta-history vanishes, on the one hand because monism is a myth, and on the other because the demystification of this myth precisely passes through the idea of the perennial, plural, and conflictual fabric of history. That, in turn, presupposes the rejection of any “outside” of history: it is for this reason that geopolitics embodies the long-awaited overcoming of the post-historical posture that, rightly, all culturally sensible realities diagnose in Europe in general, and Italy in particular.
We repeat: the dualism between the current thought and geopolitics is not that between a pseudoscience and a science. Geopolitics is not the philosopher’s stone or a rigorous science: like all historical disciplines, it is rough and imprecise. Beyond its predictive outcomes, it is not premature to suggest the cultural import of the advancing epistemology it represents. Namely, not because, as a science, it will make its way by dint of scientific successes, but because, if it is true that the succession of worldviews is the result of the succession of historical periods, geopolitics may represent a vision more suited to the historical phase we are preparing to face. In the hope of confronting it with adequate concepts, for not knowing how to think reality is equivalent to not knowing how to inhabit it.