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felimomo's review against another edition
adventurous
dark
hopeful
informative
inspiring
fast-paced
5.0
colin_cox's review against another edition
5.0
It is all too common to hear champions of education, that is to say, teachers, professors, and bookish folk, repeat the following mantra or something like it: Education is the most powerful weapon you can use to change the world. But what if this is incorrect (apologies to Nelson Mandela, I think)? Is it possible that education blinds or inculcates us as much as, or even more than, it enlightens, inspires, and reveals? As counter-intuitive as it sounds, what are the consequences of too much education? These are some of the questions Susan Buck-Morss explores in her revelatory book, Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History.
Formally, Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History comprises two essays. The first essay, "Hegel and Haiti," Buck-Morss published in the summer 2000 edition of Critical Inquiry. The second essay, "Universal History," according to Buck-Morss, "appears here in response to the critics of the first [essay]" (ix). As Buck-Morss describes in the "Preface" to Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History, "These essays are situated at the border between history and philosophy. The understanding of universal history they propose is distinct from Hegel's systematized comprehension of the past...Universal history refers more to method than content. It is an orientation, a philosophical reflection grounded in concrete material, the conceptual ordering of which shed light on the political present. The image of truth thereby revealed is time-sensitive. It is not that truth changes; we do" (x). Buck-Morss clarifies these ideas in the new introduction to "Hegel and Haiti" by writing, "'Hegel and Haiti' supports a shift in knowledge away from traditional hierarchies of significance. It insists that facts are important not as data with fixed meanings, but as connective pathways that can continue to surprise us" (13). Lines like this should cause anyone to pause and ask for clarification.
Here, Buck-Morss argues that facts operating independently of context are facts masquerading as "fixed" or "concrete." Facts are deeply interconnected and knotted in moments of time, thus, facts are deeply interconnected and knotted with people situated in moments of time. It would be foolish to conclude, as figures like Newt Gingrich have, that we all have "our facts." This hypocritical relativism is not Buck-Morss' point.
But history, thought, and philosophy have more to them than historicism. More than anything, Buck-Morss wants to understand what we hide or fail to disclose even when we think we behave like good historicists. Take, for example, Hegelian dialectics, which is to say, Hegelian universal thought. What would a historical reading of Hegel uncover about his sources of inspiration? Well, one might investigate German idealism and figures like Emmanuel Kant. One might study religious texts, considering Christianity's outsized influence on Hegel's thought. But what about the Haitian revolution? After unpacking one of the more famous moments from Hegel's Phenomenology of Spirit, the master-slave dialectic, Buck-Morss writes, "The goal of this liberation, out of slavery, cannot be subjugation of the master in turn, which would be merely to repeat the master's 'existential impasse,' but, rather, elimination of the institution of slavery altogether. Given the facility with which this dialectic of lordship and bondage lends itself to such a reading, one wonders why the topic of Hegel in Haiti has for so long been ignored. Not only have Hegel scholars failed to answer this question; they have failed, for the past two hundred years, even to ask it" (56).
Before this moment in the essay, Buck-Morss needs only a few short pages to persuasively connect the development of Hegel's master-slave dialectic to newspapers and journals Hegel read in the early 19th century, newspapers and journals that described, in detail, the Haitian Revolution. This leads Buck-Morss to wonder: "Either Hegel was the blindest of all the blind philosophers of freedom...or Hegel knew...and he elaborated his dialectic of lordship and bondage deliberately within the contemporary context" (50).
However, why does Hegel fail to mention the Haitian Revolution, and why does Hegel, at times, write in such a racist way about people of color? Buck-Morss has a response to that too, and her response drips with irony: education. She writes, "What is clear is that in an effort to become more erudite in African studies during the 1820s, Hegel was in fact becoming dumber...It is sadly ironic that the more faithfully his lectures reflected Europe's conventional scholarly wisdom on African society, the less enlightened and more bigoted they became" (73-74). This is a wonderful example, one inflected with psychoanalysis, of how thought can exceed the thinker. That is to say, Hegel retreated from the radicality of his universalism, or as Buck-Morss writes, "why is it of more than arcane interest to retrieve from oblivion this fragment of history [Hegel and Haiti], the truth of which has managed to slip away from us? There are many possible answers, but one is surely the potential for rescuing the idea of universal human history from the uses to which white domination has put it" (74).
The second essay in Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History explores how to "reconfigure the enlightenment project of universal history in the context of our too-soon and not-yet global public sphere" (79). Better said, according to Buck-Morss, "The critical writing of history is a continuous struggle to liberate the past from within the unconscious of a collective that forgets the conditions of its own experience" (85). This suggests that disavowal is an important theoretical concept for Buck-Morss. Like Hegel and Haiti, we, too, repeat this impulse to disavowal not only sources of inspiration but truths unlearned by ideology.
Like any psychoanalyst worth their salt, Buck-Morss wants to reveal the moments of discontinuity that ideology marks as continuity. This is a move that any ideology makes, but it is a move that civilizations of particular clout often make as well. Buck-Morss is clear about this point: "The greater the power a civilization wields in the world, the less capable its thinkers may be to recognize the naivete of their own beliefs" (119). This is because history is far from a stable thing despite what we want to think. Buck-Morss suggests, "History keeps running away from us, going places we, mere humans, cannot predict" (150). This is why, for example, the narrative about the 2021 capitol attack is so contentious. The "truth" of that day is, borrowing from Buck-Morss, "singular," but history is different because "it builds on a present that is moving ground" (150).
As I hope this essay suggests, Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History is one of the most important books I have read this year. Of course, this book is endlessly interesting for anyone curious about Hegel. Yet, Buck-Morss' larger point about history and how we make history is necessary for anyone interested in making sense of this (2022 as I write this essay) particular moment in time. With that said, I agree with many of the critical comments about the second essay. The second essay lacks the radicality and coherency of the first essay.
Formally, Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History comprises two essays. The first essay, "Hegel and Haiti," Buck-Morss published in the summer 2000 edition of Critical Inquiry. The second essay, "Universal History," according to Buck-Morss, "appears here in response to the critics of the first [essay]" (ix). As Buck-Morss describes in the "Preface" to Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History, "These essays are situated at the border between history and philosophy. The understanding of universal history they propose is distinct from Hegel's systematized comprehension of the past...Universal history refers more to method than content. It is an orientation, a philosophical reflection grounded in concrete material, the conceptual ordering of which shed light on the political present. The image of truth thereby revealed is time-sensitive. It is not that truth changes; we do" (x). Buck-Morss clarifies these ideas in the new introduction to "Hegel and Haiti" by writing, "'Hegel and Haiti' supports a shift in knowledge away from traditional hierarchies of significance. It insists that facts are important not as data with fixed meanings, but as connective pathways that can continue to surprise us" (13). Lines like this should cause anyone to pause and ask for clarification.
Here, Buck-Morss argues that facts operating independently of context are facts masquerading as "fixed" or "concrete." Facts are deeply interconnected and knotted in moments of time, thus, facts are deeply interconnected and knotted with people situated in moments of time. It would be foolish to conclude, as figures like Newt Gingrich have, that we all have "our facts." This hypocritical relativism is not Buck-Morss' point.
But history, thought, and philosophy have more to them than historicism. More than anything, Buck-Morss wants to understand what we hide or fail to disclose even when we think we behave like good historicists. Take, for example, Hegelian dialectics, which is to say, Hegelian universal thought. What would a historical reading of Hegel uncover about his sources of inspiration? Well, one might investigate German idealism and figures like Emmanuel Kant. One might study religious texts, considering Christianity's outsized influence on Hegel's thought. But what about the Haitian revolution? After unpacking one of the more famous moments from Hegel's Phenomenology of Spirit, the master-slave dialectic, Buck-Morss writes, "The goal of this liberation, out of slavery, cannot be subjugation of the master in turn, which would be merely to repeat the master's 'existential impasse,' but, rather, elimination of the institution of slavery altogether. Given the facility with which this dialectic of lordship and bondage lends itself to such a reading, one wonders why the topic of Hegel in Haiti has for so long been ignored. Not only have Hegel scholars failed to answer this question; they have failed, for the past two hundred years, even to ask it" (56).
Before this moment in the essay, Buck-Morss needs only a few short pages to persuasively connect the development of Hegel's master-slave dialectic to newspapers and journals Hegel read in the early 19th century, newspapers and journals that described, in detail, the Haitian Revolution. This leads Buck-Morss to wonder: "Either Hegel was the blindest of all the blind philosophers of freedom...or Hegel knew...and he elaborated his dialectic of lordship and bondage deliberately within the contemporary context" (50).
However, why does Hegel fail to mention the Haitian Revolution, and why does Hegel, at times, write in such a racist way about people of color? Buck-Morss has a response to that too, and her response drips with irony: education. She writes, "What is clear is that in an effort to become more erudite in African studies during the 1820s, Hegel was in fact becoming dumber...It is sadly ironic that the more faithfully his lectures reflected Europe's conventional scholarly wisdom on African society, the less enlightened and more bigoted they became" (73-74). This is a wonderful example, one inflected with psychoanalysis, of how thought can exceed the thinker. That is to say, Hegel retreated from the radicality of his universalism, or as Buck-Morss writes, "why is it of more than arcane interest to retrieve from oblivion this fragment of history [Hegel and Haiti], the truth of which has managed to slip away from us? There are many possible answers, but one is surely the potential for rescuing the idea of universal human history from the uses to which white domination has put it" (74).
The second essay in Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History explores how to "reconfigure the enlightenment project of universal history in the context of our too-soon and not-yet global public sphere" (79). Better said, according to Buck-Morss, "The critical writing of history is a continuous struggle to liberate the past from within the unconscious of a collective that forgets the conditions of its own experience" (85). This suggests that disavowal is an important theoretical concept for Buck-Morss. Like Hegel and Haiti, we, too, repeat this impulse to disavowal not only sources of inspiration but truths unlearned by ideology.
Like any psychoanalyst worth their salt, Buck-Morss wants to reveal the moments of discontinuity that ideology marks as continuity. This is a move that any ideology makes, but it is a move that civilizations of particular clout often make as well. Buck-Morss is clear about this point: "The greater the power a civilization wields in the world, the less capable its thinkers may be to recognize the naivete of their own beliefs" (119). This is because history is far from a stable thing despite what we want to think. Buck-Morss suggests, "History keeps running away from us, going places we, mere humans, cannot predict" (150). This is why, for example, the narrative about the 2021 capitol attack is so contentious. The "truth" of that day is, borrowing from Buck-Morss, "singular," but history is different because "it builds on a present that is moving ground" (150).
As I hope this essay suggests, Hegel, Haiti, and Universal History is one of the most important books I have read this year. Of course, this book is endlessly interesting for anyone curious about Hegel. Yet, Buck-Morss' larger point about history and how we make history is necessary for anyone interested in making sense of this (2022 as I write this essay) particular moment in time. With that said, I agree with many of the critical comments about the second essay. The second essay lacks the radicality and coherency of the first essay.
beepbeepbooks's review against another edition
hopeful
informative
inspiring
medium-paced
4.5
Pretty wonderful work. Kinda opens up history again, feels good. Ends on kind of a different note than I thought, but still extremely provocative, and though the title essay is a knockout, was more impressed by the Universal History chapter. Great book.
cathyreadstoomuch's review against another edition
4.0
Excellent book! Definitely a recommendation for anyone who studies history since the discovery of the Americas. Buck-Moss discusses how much of an influence Haitian revolution and, by extension, slavery and the slave trade affected the daily life and the constructed identity, culture and landscape of Europe and the West. Her attempt to flip "history" on its head is excellent and very affective.
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