Love and the Will to Power: Between Nietzsche and Jung

Carl Jung writes, though I have been unable to locate precisely where, that “Where love rules, there is no will to power, and where power predominates, love is lacking.” It is immensely difficult for any interpreter to attempt to accurately convey the hermeneutical or exegetical meaning of an isolated passage that has been ripped from its full context. Endeavors to do so are far more likely to be examples of eisegesis, positing one’s own meaning into or upon the text, rather than an actual example of exegesis, that is, a “critical interpretation” of the text (Merriam-Webster, my emphasis added). This is not to say that each and every act of ‘interpretation’ is utterly objective, unbiased, and free of agenda and personal view. Indeed, every exegetical escapade contains within it the seed or kernel of eisegesis. This is to say that when one seeks to interpret the thought permeating behind a single passage outside of its context, one’s interpretive and hermeneutical resources are limited almost only to one’s subjectively biased view of its meaning. So it is that this paper proceeds with caution, hesitancy, and trepidation at the analysis of Jung’s statement. This paper must advance in a manner that is phenomenlogically provisional. It will progress as-if it’s current understanding of Jung’s quote is correct. In this regard, the thesis of this paper surmises to show that what Nietzsche and Jung each respectively mean by ‘power’ is diametrically opposed.

Jung seems to be suggesting that love and power are absolutely antithetical forces, polar opposites, and ends that can never meet. The acceptance of one is immediately and necessarily the rejection, the negation, and the subversion of the other. To love is to forego power and to attain power is to vanquish love. Here, Jung seems to equate ‘power’ with domination, specifically the domination of another. This is the active subordination of another into the position of subservience, i.e. a master and a slave. Jung implies that this is the “will to power”. Yet, is this what Nietzsche has in mind when he speaks of power? Is this the kind of power that is being sought at the heart of Nietzsche’s Will to Power? Is love nothing more than powerlessness? Is power only representative of dominion? This essay aims to show that Jung’s interpretation of the ‘will to power’ could not be more of a misinterpretation.

Nietzsche’s work is unavoidably shrouded in mystery, ambivalence, and ambiguity. Travis Elborough states plainly that Nietzsche’s writing “resists literal readings” (7). As such, his thought is marked by an elusive impenetrability. His meaning and aims will not be found at the surface. One must probe deeply, beyond the appearance or the peripheral understanding of the words themselves. A cursory reading will simply not do.

Many have interpreted Nietzsche’s Will to Power as being congruent with what Jung alludes to as the will to dominate. This seems especially so in that Nietzsche seems to propose that what gives apt expression to the Will to Power is found within his categorizations of Master and Slave Morality. Although this would appear to give testimony to Nietzsche’s supposed adherence to a suppressive supremacy and although it is a common conception to view Nietzsche’s Will to Power as a kind of tyrannical oppression, it is above all a common mis-conception. So what is it that Nietzsche means by Will to Power? What does he mean by Master and Slave morality? How do these conceptions diverge from what Jung implies? To understand this more lucidly one must turn to what is in entailed within Nietzsche’s propositions of Master and Slave morality.

It seems obvious that Master morality is indicative of “the powerful and strong willed” (Oaklander, 85). It also seems to go without saying that Slave morality is representative of “those people who are weak willed, uncertain of themselves, oppressed, and abused” (85). While such an understanding is easily discernible what seems less obvious is what exactly the ‘master’ has mastered and what the enslaved is enslaved to. While the natural conclusion or assumption would be that the master is master over a slave and that a slave is enslaved to a master, and although this would seem to be the relationship Jung is describing, this would not be entirely conducive to what Nietzsche is aiming towards.

In Nietzsche’s mind a master is not necessarily the master of a slave and a slave is not necessarily one who is enslaved or subservient to a master. Nietzsche’s classifications are not representing a socioeconomic framework but rather the orientation of a psychological internality. In this regard, one need not be a master of a slave to exhibit master morality and one need not be a slave to someone to demonstrate slave morality. A captive can be the epitome of master morality and a lord can all too easily exemplify slave morality. In fact, Nietzsche would specify that one whose status as a master defined only by one’s dominance over another is not actually a master, as this would actually be an indication of weakness rather than power. In this scenario the master is truly a slave to the slave. Here, the master’s ‘power’ is absolutely externalized and completely contingent upon the presence of the slave. The slave is the necessary predicate of not only the master’s power but, also the master’s standing as a master. This kind of power is nothing more than a disguised impotency lusting after power through the use of control, manipulation, and resentment. Nietzsche himself writes that “the state in which we hurt others…is a sign that we are still lacking power” (108). This would then be slave morality.

L. Nathan Oaklander explains that “The strong willed are those who have the strength to chart their own course, create their own values, and live in accordance with them” (85). A master is a creative force, one who is ultimately “value-creating” and one who has the ‘powerful’ determination to direct their lives in a manner consistent with the values they have created (Nietzsche, 115). Master morality is the full acceptance of one’s responsibility for their existence as an individual. A true master is marked by their ability to ‘conquer’ themselves, to transcend themselves, to determine themselves, to master themselves (Hayman, 35). This is the master’s Will to Power, “a will to perfection, a striving for distinction” (Oaklander, 82).

In this regard, the slave is the antithesis of the master. The slave is one who lacks self-mastery and the strength of will to be creative and self-determinative. The slave is enslaved to normativity, convention, society, tradition, conformity, and mediocrity. The slave lives in complete compliance to external dictates, resenting those who have striven for excellence and attained freedom. The slave exercises their will to power through implicit domination and forced coercion, vilifying those who have achieved power and individuality and branding them as ‘evil’ (Oaklander, 86). This, then, is an “inversion” of the Will to Power, which “directs one’s view outward instead of back to oneself” (Nietzsche, 117). This is not an expression of true power but, only the desirous drive for the feeling of power which arises from an impotent lack of power. In this sense, it is true that “where [this kind of] power predominates, love is lacking”.

But, what does all this have to do with love? What does it say about the compatibility of love and the Will to Power? Love is a dangerous endeavor. Love, as an event, entails a “radical break with the existing state of affairs” (Van Onzen). Love is marked by risk. Alain Badiou explains that “love involves a separation or disjuncture based on the simple difference between the two people and their infinite subjectivities” (27). Love, too, itself, is a ‘value-creating’ force. Love requires a “commitment to create something unique that does not rely on…social conventions” and persevering determination to live in accordance with what has been created (Van Onzen). Love is not for the faint of heart but, the strong-willed, those who have the strength to be self-transcendent. Perhaps, then, not only can love exist alongside the Will to Power; perhaps love is the Will to Power.

There may be many who will see the proposals of this paper as obtuse and incoherent. Some may suggest that the thesis here within grossly and inaccurately misinterprets not only Nietzsche and Jung but, also Love and the Will to Power. This is certainly plausible as the writer of this essay is neither a Nietzschean scholar nor a Jungian scholar. This written work may be little more than the personal view of the author’s subjective bias. This writing took place without the proper context of Jung’s citation and remains primarily unlearned of the entirety of Nietzsche’s corpus. However, what this paper has demonstrated is that the reading of Nietzsche’s Will to Power as presented here is readily available within Nietzsche’s work and within the work of Nietzsche’s most adherent interpreters.

As far as Jung is concerned, this writer cannot counter the objection that the quote presented is taken out of context. It is true that it is. However, in this point some may still persist that there is nothing but incongruence between love and power. The simple rebuttal that this author can offer is the brute fact that love is, in fact, a ‘powerful’ force. This is undeniably seen throughout the pages of history. Jesus, Gandhi, Buddha, Martin Luther King Jr., self-empowered, strong-willed self-determined people, marked by self-mastery who through great acts of love had the power to impact the world. They are individuals who have not only directed themselves but, who directed the course of history itself. These are people of supreme courage, able to transcend themselves, overcoming and withstanding the abusive violence of societal norms and conventions, carving out and creating whole new ways of understanding what it means to be human. These figures demonstrate that love is an unstoppable force to be reckoned with. They reveal that it takes great power to bear the weighted risk of love and there is great power gained in taking the risk of loving.

Nietzsche’s master morality enables one to see that within the Will to Power there is the active creation of strength, excellence, determination, and value, as well as the commitment, responsibility, and courage to live in alignment with the constructions of one’s creation. In this regard, contrary to what Jung seems to suggest, the Will to Power does not close out the possibility of love but, rather widely throws open the doors to welcome love in. Love is power. Where love rules, there is the true Will to Power, and where this power predominates, love is never lacking.

Works Cited

Badiou, Alain. In Praise of Love. New York: Serpent’s Tail, 2012. Print.

Elborough, Travis. The Pocket Essential Nietzsche. North Promfret: Trafalgar Square Publishing, 2001. Print.

“exegesis.” Merriam-Webster. Merriam-Webster, 2013. Web. 8 Oct. 2013.

Hayman, Ronald. Nietzsche. New York: Routledge, 1999. Print.

Oaklander, L. Nathan. Existentialist Philosophy: An Introduction, 2nd ed. Upper Saddle River: Prentice Hall. Print.

Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm. From Beyond Good and Evil. In Existentialist Philosophy: An Introduction, 2nd ed. Ed. L. Nathan Oaklander. Upper Saddle River: Prentice Hall. 115-116. Print.

Nietzsche, Friedrich Wilhelm. From On the Genealogy of Morals. In Existentialist Philosophy: An Introduction, 2nd ed. Ed. L. Nathan Oaklander. Upper Saddle River: Prentice Hall. 117-121. Print.

Van Onzen, Fabian. Review of In Praise of Love. Marx & Philosophy Review of Books. Marx & Philosophy Society, 2012. Web. 8 Oct. 2013.

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The Erosion of the East?

This is another of the many essays written for an Intro to World Religions class. In this particular assignment we were asked to concisely sketch the differentiation of thought and practice between Eastern religions and those that are more Westernized. Enjoy!

In his book, Liberating the Gospels, author John Shelby Spong writes, “The fact that we must recover is that Christianity was not born as a Western religion. A Western mentality has been imposed on this Middle Eastern understanding or revelation of God” (18). Though Spong is speaking specifically to the Judaic origins of Christianity, it raises several important considerations when examining differentiations between the religious dynamics of the East and West. We often take for granted that the three ‘Western’ monotheistic faiths did not come to fruition or arrive fully formed and they did not develop in a vacuum from the influences chronology and surrounding cultures. As Spong reminds, many of the faith that we have come to consider Western have, in all actuality, been westernized. These religions were not always as we have them now but, they are rather Hellenized reflections of their former selves.
When examining the adamant polytheism of the Hindu tradition it is easy to draw stark distinctions between these pluralistic ideals and the monotheism of Judaism. Indeed, as Karen Armstrong makes clear, “We assume that the three patriarchs of Israel – Abraham, his son Isaac and his grandson Jacob – were monotheists, that they believed in only one God” but , it is far “more accurate to call these Hebrews pagans who shared many of the religious beliefs of their neighbors in Canaan” (14). The ancient Hebrews were monolatrous, at best, prior to the full development of monotheism around the sixth century.

It seems that Western sensibilities are all too willing to unashamedly impose modern concepts, beliefs, and interpretations upon a people, a text, and a time in which such ideas were unheard of, ungraspable, unavailable, and inconceivable. Karen Armstrong explains further, “We have developed, for example, a scientific view of history, which we see as a succession of unique events. In the [Eastern] world, however, the events of history were not seen as singular but as examples of eternal laws, revelations of a timeless, constant reality” (10). Armstrong continues, “Before the modern period, Jews Christians, and Muslims all relished highly allegorical, symbolic, and esoteric interpretations of their sacred texts” (12).

In many of these regards it seems that Christianity has suffered the most from its eroding divorce from its Eastern heritage. “Where Christians have come to indentify orthodoxy with correct belief, Muslims, like Jews, require orthopraxy, a uniformity of religious practice, and see belief as a secondary issue” (37). The “right belief” of Christianity has become the very basis of its soteriology, i.e. doctrinally ascribed beliefs will result in salvific reward of “Heaven” in the afterlife. First and foremost it must be noted that Jesus very rarely speaks of Heaven. Jesus is found speaking more predominantly of the Kingdom of God, though in the Matthean tradition, which is the most Judaic in orientation, renames this verbiage as the Kingdom of Heaven, neither of which should be understood as destinations following death. The “Kingdom,” though implicitly eschatological, was a present reality in-breaking, culminating, and coming to fruition in the here and now. This is far more indicative of  ‘realized eschatology,’ that is the Eschaton as a possession of the present. This is an existential engagement with the world and thus has more in common with Buddhism in this regard.

As such in one of the few instances in which Jesus references the day of Judgment, though he does so only in parabolic form, we see that as one stands in Judgment the questions asked by Jesus are not issues of doctrine, dogma, or even belief. He does not ask for a confession or statement of faith. He does not ask for an affirmation of his divinity or any other such theological conception. Instead, those servants found to be “good and faithful” are those who fed the hungry, gave drink to those who were thirsty, gave hospitality to the stranger, clothed the naked, cared for the sick, and visited the imprisoned. This bears resemblances to the cessation of suffering spoken of by the Buddha.

Here, I’m reminded of a story in the Talmud. Rabbis Hillel and Shammai are approached by a gentile who requests that they recite the entirety pf the Torah while he stands on one foot. Rabbi Shammai is appalled and condemns the gentile questioner. Rabbi Hillel said to him, “That which you hate, do not do to others. That is the entire Torah, the rest is commentary. Go and learn it.” In Hillel’s astute paraphrase of Leviticus 19:18 he suggests that the love of the neighbor alone serves as the foundation of the Torah and all its 613 mitzvos. He suggests that every aspect of the Pentateuch is directly connected to man’s piety in relation to his fellow man and the only ‘god’ that seems to enter the equation is that which is revealed in the face of the other.

The Talmud then teaches that a person should envision the world as being perfectly and intricately situated in a state of balance, having equal parts good and evil(reminiscent of the Taoist view) (Ciner). When a person performs a Mitzvah he tilts the entire world towards good and likewise when he commits evil he shifts the entire world towards evil. In the Jewish faith it’s believed that Kedusha (holiness) and Tum’ah(impurity) are the causes of the good and evil in the world and any good that enters this world does so a s a result of a holy act performed by someone in this world. Buddhism, a non-theistic religion, similarly suggests this idea in its notion of Karma (Ciner). Buddhism sees suffering occurring as a consequence of greed, hatred, and delusion and thus, seeks to end suffering by replacing greed with selflessness, hatred with loveand compassion, and delusion with wisdom and enlightenments. As Thomas Merton once said, “In the end it is the reality of personal relationships that saves everything.”

Armstrong, Karen. A History of God: The 4,000 – Year Quest of Judaism, Christianity, and Islam. New York: Random House, 1993. Print.

Armstrong, Karen. The Battle for God. New York: Random House, 2000. Print.

Ciner, Yisroel. “Acharei Mos-Kedoshim – 5761.” Parsha Insights. Torah.org, n.d. Web. 28 Nov. 2011.

Spong, John Shelby. Liberating the Gospels: Reading the Bible with Jewish Eyes. New York: HarperCollins, 1996. Print.