[O] nly those who are driven by a desire to break away from the cowardly bonds created by our criminal social and political structures, or from mindless subjection to them â who are revolted by the stale joys of our inhuman culture ⊠who are filled with contempt for the self-satisfied sycophants (these most worthless of egoists!) ⊠only he ⊠can discover the power to rebel, to rise up and attack the oppressor of this same nature.
Needless to say, this portrait of the rebel disgusted by the hypocrisy of contemporary society is not a description of Siegfried.
In further defense of Siegfried as the revolutionary, many commentators argue that Siegfried is an example of Hegelâs world-historical figure.12 But in light of Siegfriedâs conceptual limitations, such a view hangs solely on the premise that the world-historical individual has âno consciousness of the Idea at all.â13 That is indeed what Hegel said in his lectures at the University of Berlin, but it is not the whole story. Hegelâs discussion states in full:
These heroic [world-historical] individuals, in fulfilling these aims of theirs, had no consciousness of the Idea at allâŠ. Yet at the same time they were thoughtful men, with insight into what was needed and what was timely: their insight was the very truth of their time and their world â the next species, so to speak, which was already there in the inner source. It was theirs to know it, this universal concept, the necessary next stage of their world âŠ14
There can simply be no debate that Siegfried is no âthoughtful man with insightâ who has the capacity to grasp âthe necessary next stage of the world.â
In the final analysis, the gloss on Siegfried as anarchic revolutionary and world-historical hero puts much too much weight on Siegfried as a dramatis persona. Clearly Siegfried was not designed to function in this way. In The Sorcerer of Bayreuth (2012) Barry Millington intriguingly sketches the outlines of an interpretation that returns to the fundamentals of Siegfriedâs role as a man of nature and reads him in the context of Rousseauâs philosophy of culture.15 Such an interpretation offers a solution to the seeming conundrum of Siegfriedâs personality and heroism, and it is time to follow the logic of this thesis.
In attempting to understand the true essence of man and his social organizations, philosophers of the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries looked back to manâs most primitive origins in the state of nature. From first principles of primeval time they sought to derive the fundamental truths that would guide humankind forward. The most practical thinkers accepted man for what he was, egoistic and violent. Thus, Thomas Hobbes famously declared in Leviathan (1651) that life in nature was âsolitary, poor, nasty, brutish and short.â In his Berlin lectures, Hegel agreed that â[f]reedom, as the ideal dimension of original nature, does not exist as an original and natural stateâŠ. [T]he âstate of natureâ is not an ideal condition, but a condition of injustice, of violence, of untamed natural drives, inhuman acts, and emotions.â16 In this view, government and laws were necessary to temper manâs antisocial instincts and promote civil peace. Eighteenth-century utilitarians such as Bernard Mandeville in The Fables of the Bees (1714) and Adam Smith in The Wealth of Nations (1776) made a virtue out of this apparent necessity, declaring that society would flourish to the extent that it promoted the pursuit of each manâs self-interest.
Jean-Jacques Rousseau, on the other hand, refused to accept man as a selfish given. In fashioning his construct of the state of nature in Discours sur lâorigine et les fondements de lâinĂ©galitĂ© parmi les hommes (A Discourse on the Origins and Foundations of Inequality among Men; 1755) Rousseau rejected Hobbesâs crabbed vision of humankind: âAbove all, let us not conclude with Hobbes that man is naturally evil.â Rousseau argued instead that the earthâs first men were strong and happy. â[W]hat kind of misery can be that of a free being whose heart is at peace and whose body is in health?â Natural man was also essentially good, gifted with moral instincts, among them an âinnate repugnance against seeing a fellow creature suffer,â which led to âcompassion.â17
Rousseauâs radical thesis â which turned the Christian doctrine of original sin and salvation through faith on its head â was that manâs natural goodness and strength has been corrupted over time and that centuries of civilization had alienated him from his true self. â[S]ociety no longer offers to the eyes of the philosophers anything more than an assemblage of artificial men and factitious passions which are the products of all menâs new relations and which have no true foundation in nature.â18 Placing the two historical prototypes side by side, Rousseau observed that âsavage man and civilized man differ so much in the bottom of their hearts and inclinations that that which constitutes the supreme happiness of the one would reduce the other to despair.â19
Fellow philosophe and friend Denis Diderot shared Rousseauâs vision of an uncorrupted dawn of time and in his SupplĂ©ment au Voyage de Bougainville (Reflections on the Voyage of Bougainville; 1771/1796) applied Rousseauâs theoretical musings in the context of real-world history â dramatizing the gulf between natural and civilized man in a dialogue between a Tahitian native and a European explorer. Confronted with the apparent absurdity of European laws and mores, the noble savage is bewildered. In a fervent defense of the state of nature, the Tahitian points out the internal contradictions of eighteenth-century civil society and limns a worldview freed of customary constraints. Commenting on the practice of marriage, for example, the wise Tahitian Orou asserts:
I find these strange precepts contrary to NatureâŠ. Contrary to Nature, because they assume that a being which feels, thinks and is free may be the property of another being like himselfâŠ. Such rules are contrary to the general order of things. What could seem more ridiculous than a precept which forbids any change of our affections, which commands that we show a constancy of which weâre not capable, which violates the nature and liberty of male and female alike in chaining them to one another for the whole of their lives?20
The Tahitian also understands that under the yoke of laws and custom, man becomes at odds with himself: âYou will merely breed rascals and wretches, inspired by fear, punishment and remorse, depraving their conscience, corrupting their character. People will no longer know what they should do and what they should avoid. Anxious when innocent, calm only in crime, they will have lost sight of the pole star which should have guided their way.â He concludes that âthe society whose splendid order your leader acclaims will be nothing but a swarm of hypocrites who secretly trample on the laws âŠâ21
These philosophesâ compelling vision of the natural goodness of man and the dangerous impact of civilization resonated with many thinkers in the early nineteenth century, inspiring a program of reform that set its goal on clearing out the Augean stables of contemporary belief systems and disposing of the ancient traditions, laws, and customs that had outlasted their relevance and continued to weigh on manâs freedom. By destroying the illusions and falsehoods of the past that hampered manâs potential, these thinkers sought to retrieve a measure of his original strength and happiness. Feuerbach, for example, in 1841 decried the burden of ancient modes of thought: âWorld-old usages, laws, and institutions continue to drag out their existence long after they have lost their true meaningâŠ. [W]hat was once good, claims to be good for all times.â22 Likewise John Stuart Mill in his famous series of essays in The Examiner in 1831, âThe Spirit of the Age,â diagnosed the discontents of English society as symptoms of âan age of transition.â âMankind have outgrown old institutions and old doctrines, and have not yet acquired new onesâŠ. [T]he same jacket which fitted him then, will not fit him now.â The task...