In August 2023, the Scottish University of Aberdeen hosts a conference to celebrate the fiftieth anniversary of political philosopher Hannah Arendt‘s Gifford Lectures there. She was the first woman ever to deliver those famous lectures. Their posthumous publication once again showed Arendt’s love for the work of Augustine (354-430). That love began with her dissertation, which appeared in 1929, and recently became available in a superb Dutch translation as Het liefdesbegrip bij Augustinus (original title: Der Liebesbegriff bei Augustin).

Some leading quotes from her dissertation illustrate the unparalleled way in which the Jewish Hannah Arendt (1906-1975) brings to life Augustine, one of the most prominent Christian church fathers. The foreword to the Dutch edition by philosopher Marli Huijer is highly debatable in light of those quotes, as evidenced by Huijer’s debate with translator Mark Wildschut for the YouTube channel of De Nieuwe Wereld.

Desire

“Man is what he pursues.”[1]

According to Arendt, this first crucial quote captures the core of Augustine’s view of man. Man is characterized by a love (amor) that is always a desire (appetitus), which can evolve in two directions: human appetite is oriented either by transient worldly things or by an eternal, divine dimension. The first kind of love is called cupiditas by Augustine, the second caritas. In any case, as a human being you are dependent on what is outside of you, on food and oxygen, as well as on other people. Moreover, you are mortal, and your existence is always limited in that sense also.

Tragedy

“The fulfillment of caritas is fearlessness; the fulfillment of cupiditas, by contrast, is constantly accompanied by fear, which drives it into dispersion from one thing to another and leads to irrevocable addiction.”[2]

To escape the disturbing awareness of one’s own limitations, man seeks diversion in all kinds of activities, ranging from going to the shopping mall or pursuing a prestigious career to exploring inhospitable places or partying at summer festivals. In the end, however, you are never at ease that way, because you attach yourself to what can be lost. Therein lies the tragedy. The XTC-swallowing reveler fears the end of intoxication, the adventurer the lack of challenge, the overzealous achiever the loss of status, and the shopaholic what he may lack. When a habit becomes a monotonous addiction, you need a larger dose of the coveted good, time and again, to make yet one more comforting difference in your life. That is not healthy for your relationships, nor for yourself. Arendt points out the tragedy, once more (see also: The Denial of Death by Ernest Becker, Winner of the Pulitzer Prize in 1974):

“The habit blocks the view of death, which is feared as much as death itself. However, precisely by obstructing the view of death and confining itself to the world’s mean character, the habit leads toward death all the more surely.”[3]

Imitation

“No being escapes imitatio, imitation.[4] […] As an ontological structure, imitari (imitating) is independent of the attitude man takes toward it.[5] […] Superbia, pride, is the perverse imitatio […], because it is under the delusion of being creator itself.[6] […] Boasting arises because creatura (the creature) competes with others in the world.[7]“

Arendt wrote these sentences long before the advent of social media, but even in that case Augustine’s relevance is evident. On Instagram and Facebook, we turn others into means to affirm a social profile that seemingly creates meaning. However, the love for worldly prestige in no way protects us from forms of self-loss and the fear of social punishment. Moreover, as we try to emulate each other, we fail to recognize how much we imitate each other and how little our existence is our own. Even our genetic code is a copy. Augustine as well as Arendt point out the importance of imitation in identity formation. You are what you aspire to be under the impulse of exemplary figures. It is perhaps better, therefore, to be guided by those who fully respect you and your abilities, and not by those who unilaterally judge you on the basis of your worldly image. According to Augustine, those who long for themselves in the light of God’s grace free themselves from unnecessary feelings of guilt and shame. Arendt concludes:

“The inner witness of conscience before the face of God annuls the world and its judgment.”[8]

Neighborly Love

“Self-denying love denies the other as much as itself, but it does not forget him. The denial is answered by volo ut sis, I want you to be.[9] Timor castus, chaste fear, fears the loss of the pursued; it is a legitimate part of caritas. […] Cupiditas also knows timor before God, but as a fear of punishment. This fear, which does not stem from love, is improper.[10]“

As long as you covet a so-called meaningful worldly image, you turn the other into a means to affirm that image and into someone whose negative judgment you fear. But caritas, the love of God, relativizes (“denies”) your worldly self and converts you to yourself as “indefinably/infinitely other than any worldly self”. In doing so, you no longer desire the other as a means of affirmation, but as a neighbor who also is irreducibly other. Your neighbor thus becomes your equal only in that paradoxical sense, and as you start desiring your neighbor for his own sake, you no longer fear his judgment but his possible (self)destruction. “Because the other is fundamentally your equal, that is, has a sinful past like you, you must love him,”[11] Arendt clarifies. Grace creates the space for new beginnings and for a truly diverse community. “Love [as caritas] addresses itself to the individual, albeit also to every individual,”[12] Arendt writes, and she emphasizes the responsibility Augustine calls for (in a way reminiscent of the thought of Jewish philosopher Emmanuel Levinas):

“Fleeing into solitude is a sin, for it robs the other of the opportunity to convert himself [to himself as creatura].[13] Through imitatio, each one can become an incentive of salvation for his neighbor.[14]“

René Girard

Those who know René Girard and his mimetic theory will certainly notice the parallels between the thought of Augustine and Girard’s work. In light of both Girard’s and Hannah Arendt’s connection to Augustine, it will come as no surprise that the works of these three thinkers show some interesting similarities. In his brilliant presentation of mimetic theory, also situating it in the philosophical canon, theologian Wolfgang Palaver points to Augustine’s influence on Girard’s work, as well as Augustine’s realization of his own mimetic nature (especially pp. 88-93):

“A first great predecessor to Girard’s mimetic theory is the Latin church father Augustine of Hippo. Girard was already conscious of Augustine’s influence while working on his first book, Deceit, Desire and the Novel, a central part of which contains reference to Augustine’s knowledge of self-destructive pride. However, in the rest of the book, Girard’s spiritual proximity to the church father remains merely implicit. In an essay published two years thereafter, Girard first mentions Augustine’s Confessions as an archetype of the conversion found in the novelistic works that led to the discovery of mimetic desire. It comes as no surprise, therefore, that Girard concedes in Quand ces choses commenceront that ‘three-fourths of that which I have said is already found in St. Augustine.'”[15]

“At the heart of the Confessions is Augustine’s discovery of his own mimetic nature. […] Augustine comes to the realization that from the beginning, he was always intrigued by the crowd; moreover, that he was driven by mere pride and vanity. […] Augustine becomes fascinated by the Roman orator Hierius, whose allure, Augustine admits, is not only based on his impressive speeches: ‘Actually, I was more taken by what others thought of him, by the way they lavished praise on him.’ ‘Enthusiasm,’ he writes further, ‘kindles enthusiasm, and praise can cause admiration when the praise is believed to be heartfelt.’ Augustine admires Hierius ‘as I would be admired myself, giddy pride leading me astray to be buffeted by every wind.’ Augustine runs through a series of different role models until he finally converts to Christianity, a process that is incidentally also influenced by the example of others.

Augustine’s theological system is largely determined by his insight into the fundamental necessity of mediation for human desire. Just as Girard argues that human beings are ultimately faced with the choice between following divine and human role models, Augustine also classifies the human race into ‘two branches,’ namely, those ‘who live by human standards’ and those ‘who live according to God’s will.’ These two different models entail two different types of love. Where human beings are taken as role models, Augustine speaks of the love of ‘oneself,’ or amor sui, which seeks fame ‘from other human beings’ and is connected with ‘hubris’ or ‘pride.’ Divine love, or amor Dei, by contrast, finds its ‘highest glory in God’ and is rooted in humility. Original Sin is for Augustine man’s denial of God and, moreover, the proud attempt to take God’s place. Augustine describes this sin as a ‘perverse imitation’ of God, or perversa imitatio Dei, a form of vain madness identical to the essence of the devil.”[16]

Hannah Arendt, Martin Heidegger and Karl Jaspers

The general public gets to know Hannah Arendt primarily in 1961, when she travels to Jerusalem for The New Yorker and covers the trial of Nazi Adolf Eichmann. She had been an American citizen for 11 years by then. On the eve of World War II, she had fled Germany and its anti-Jewish regime. That did not prevent her from staying in touch with her mentor and former lover Martin Heidegger (1889-1976), despite the controversial position of that famous philosopher during the war. Not coincidentally, Heidegger’s work has had a lasting impact on Arendt’s thinking. Her discussion of Augustine’s concept of love already is a fledgling witness to that fact, although she actually criticizes Heidegger in some fundamental ways with her reading of Augustine. And that, of course, has something to do with German-Swiss psychiatrist and philosopher Karl Jaspers (1883-1969), who became Arendt’s Ph.D. supervisor at Heidelberg University.

[1]Arendt, H. (2022). Het liefdesbegrip bij Augustinus. Utrecht: Ten Have/De Nieuwe Wereld; p.41.

[2] Ibid., p.56.

[3] Ibid., pp.106-107.

[4] Ibid., p.76.

[5] Ibid., p.102.

[6] Ibid., p.105.

[7] Ibid., p.102.

[8] Ibid., p.110.

[9] Ibid., p.125.

[10] Ibid., p.56.

[11] Ibid., p.144.

[12] Ibid., p.151.

[13] Ibid., p.147.

[14] Ibid., p.150.

[15] Palaver, W. (2013). René Girard’s Mimetic Theory. East Lansing: Michigan State University Press; pp.88-89.

[16] Ibid., pp.90-91.