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PARTISAN REVIEW
other than Raymond Queneau-published these discussions under the
title
Reading Hegel: An Introduction,
a work which came to exert an enor–
mous influence on many contemporary authors. As Kojeve interprets it,
Hegel's response to the question of what is specifically human is very dif–
ferent from Lagerl6f's. What is the difference between animals and
humans? The former always acts excl usively out of an instinct for self–
preservation, taking for itself all that is necessary to achieve this end (food,
for example), and eliminating all obstacles (its rivals). The latter does as
much, but is not content to stop there, and seeks more than his Inere phys–
iological satisfaction: he aspires to a recognition of his value, which can
only come from another. The human, then, begins where "the biological
desire for self-preservation" yields to "the human desire for recognition."
It
follows that to be human is to be prepared to risk one's life for
something greater; to be human is to move beyond the belief that one's
own life is the ultimate value. This extreme situation suggests to Kojeve
the truth underlying any craving for recognition: since all desire it, and
since one must first subjugate another in order to obtain something from
him, human life becomes a merciless struggle that leads to the emergence
of a master (the victor) and a servant. The history of humanity is the his–
tory of their conflict and its sequels (or class struggle, as Marx saw it).
Kojeve then concludes that "human existence, located in history, con–
scious of itself, is therefore only possible where there are-or have once
been-bloody struggles, or wars of prestige." His statement has a dual
force: the desire for recognition is specifically human, and anyone driven
by this desire is led to take part in a struggle to the death. So it is not love
that is specifically human, but war.
Kojeve's response is certainly less pleasant than Lagerl6f's, but does
that make it any less true? Many of our contemporaries seem to prefer it,
likely fearing accusations of affectation awaiting them should they choose
the other one. (One of the surprising postulates of contemporary western
philosophy is that the truth must be bitter.) For a clearer perspective, rather
than examine the problematic appearance of the human race at the dawn
of time, let us take a subject that is incomparably easier to observe: the
human individual (described, as it happens, in the first chapter of
The
Emperor of Portugallia).
The newborn human is not radically different from
many of its counterparts among the animals (the higher apes, for example):
the child strives to be comforted, warmed, and fed,just as they do. Yet there
are nonetheless differences, one of which acquires a special significance. At
an age generally of about seven or eight weeks, the infant executes an
action that has no equivalent in the animal kingdom: it is no longer
enough for it merely to see its mother (which it has been doing since
birth); it now seeks to attract her gaze, to be seen by her. To seek out and
