maro
muslimah
The materialists maintain that man is the “perfect animal,” “I’homme machine.” The difference between man and animal is one of stage, not of quality. There is no specific human essence. There is only a “concrete historical and social concept of man” and “economic and social history is the only true history that really exists.” “Man is a system as any other in nature, subordinated to nature’s inevitable, general laws.” The evolution of man is influenced by an external objective fact – work. As Friedrich Engels put it: “Man is the product of his environment and his work.” The creation of man is represented as the result of an external biological process, determined by external, spiritual facts. The hand causes and promotes the development of psychological life. … Its ‘discovery’ and the ‘discovery’ of language mark the end of the zoological and the beginning of the human history.”
These ideas seem quite convincing, but it is less obvious that they are at the same time a radical negation of man.
In materialistic philosophy, man is dissected into his constituent parts, and in the end he disappears. Engels demonstrated that man is the product of social relations, or more precisely, the result of the existing means of production. Man is nothing and creates nothing; on the contrary, he is only the result of given facts.
Darwin takes this impersonalized man in his hands and describes his ascent through natural selection to a human being who can speak, make tools, and walk erect. Biology completes this picture by showing that everything goes back to the primeval form of life which in turn is physical-chemical process, a play of molecules. Life, conscience, and soul do not exist, and consequently, there is no human essence.
If we now have this sharp and understandable but dull scientific model and turn to the interior of this Sistine Chapel and contemplate Michelangelo’s famous frescoes representing man’s history from his Fall of Doomsday, we are obliged to wonder about the meaning of these pictures. Do they contain any truth about the great themes they are depicting? If so, what is this truth? More precisely, in which way are these pictures truthful at all?
Greek drama, Dante’s vision of heavens and hell, African spirituals, Faust’s prologue in heaven, Melanesian masks, ancient Japanese frescoes, and modern paintings – all of theses examples taken without any special order bear the same testimony. It is evident that they have nothing to do with Darwin’s man, and it is not possible to imagine them as products of the surrounding nature. What kind of feelings stand behind the idea of a religion of salvation? What does this dramatic expression mean? How could there be anything dramatic in life which consists of an exchange between being and nature? What did Ernest Neizvestni see with his mind’s eye when he drew Dante’s Hell? Why is there fear among everything living, if man and life are the fruit of mother nature?
These questions make us wonder if the picture sketched by science is even complete. Science does give us an exact photograph of the world, but it lacks an essential dimension of reality. Science is characterized by natural misunderstanding of the living and the human. In its strict logical analysis, it makes life devoid of life and man devoid of humanity.
Science about man is possible only if he is part of the world or a product of it – that is, if he is a thing. Conversely, art is possible only if man is different from nature, if man is a stranger in it – that is, if he is a personality. All art is a continuous story of man’s foreignness in nature.
So, in the question about man’s origin, science and art are on a complete and irrevocable path of collision. Science enumerates facts leading inexorably to the conclusion of man’s gradual evolution from animal to human. Art shows in exciting pictures man coming from the unknown. Science refers to Darwin and his gigantic synthesis; art refers to Michelangelo and his grandiosecharter on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
Darwin and Michelangelo represented two different conceptions of man and two opposite truths about his origin. Neither of them will ever prevail over the other for one is supported by so many irrefutable facts while the other is held in the hearts of all men. So, in the question about man’s origin, science and art are on a complete and irrevocable path of collision. Science enumerates facts leading inexorably to the conclusion of man’s gradual evolution from animal to human. Art shows in exciting pictures man coming from the unknown. Science refers to Darwin and his gigantic synthesis; art refers to Michelangelo and his grandiosecharter on the ceiling of the Sistine Chapel.
It is only around man that two contradictory truths can exist. Only together can they give us the complete and true picture about him.
The statement that man, as a biological being, has an animal nature came from religion before Darwin and de Lamarck. Religion claims that the animal is an aspect of man. The difference lies only in the scope of this claim. According to science, man is nothing more than an intelligent animal; according to religion, man is an animal endowed with personality.
Let us notice that the word “human” has a double meaning in our mind. “We are human” means that we are sinful and weak. “Let us be human” is an appeal to remind us that we are something superior, that we have higher obligations that we have to be unselfish and humane. “You think only of the human,” Jesus reproached Saint Peter, giving preference to the divine.
Humanism and humanity are both derived from the word man and have a huger moral connotation. This double meaning of ideas connected to man’s name is a result of man’s double nature, one of them originating from the earth and the other from heaven.
Humanism and humanity are both derived from the word man and have a huger moral connotation. This double meaning of ideas connected to man’s name is a result of man’s double nature, one of them originating from the earth and the other from heaven.
The materialists always directed our attention to the external aspects of things. “The hand is not only an organ of work,” writes Engles, “but also a product of it. Only through work…the human hand attained that high degree of perfection in which it could produce Raffaello’s paintings, Thorvaldsen’s statues and Paganini’s music.”
What Engles is talking about is the continuation of biological and not spiritual development. Painting, however, is a spiritual, not a technical act. Raphael created his paintings not with his hands but with his spirit. Beethoven wrote his best compositions when he was already deaf. Biological development alone, even if stretched out indefinitely, could never have given us Raphael’s paintings nor even the crude prehistoric cave pictures. Here we are faced with two separate aspects of man’s existence.
A human being is not the sum of his different biological functions, just like a painting cannot be reduced to the quantity of the paint used or a poem to its syntax. It is true that a mosque is built from a given number of stone blocks of definite form and in definite order, from a certain quantity of mortar, wooden beams, and so forth: however, this is not the whole truth about the mosque. After all, there is a difference between a mosque and military barracks. It is possible to write a perfect grammatical and linguistic analysis of a poem by Goethe without coming anywhere near its essence. The same goes for the difference between a dictionary and a poem in the same language. A dictionary is exact but has no plot; a poem has a meaning and an unattainable essence. Fossils, morphology, and psychology describe only man’s external, mechanical, and meaningless side. Man is like a painting, a mosque, or a poem rather than the quantity or quality of the material of which he is made.
Man is more than all the sciences together can say about him.
To be continued.....
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