Doing
philosophy
in Ecuador involves a series of challenges that have yet to be overcome. As
a result, philosophical activity remains marginalized,
erased from university institutions, lacking regular publications that reflect the diversity of its output,
and facing
precarious conditions for its production.
Therefore,
a program for
doing philosophy is proposed, which is, of course, a first attempt fraught with
provisionality. We first
need to clarify
the environment in which
we are immersed and which permeates
our reflection, even if we are unaware of it.
Next, We Attempt to Systematize This Situation of the
Production of Philosophical Knowledge in Countries Like Ecuador, Through the Following Considerations:
In the first part of this
program, we succinctly outlined the conditions
imposed by the current social and political circumstances and their potential impact on theoretical
reflection; these conditions consist of isolation, lack of communication, and violence.
Next, we propose a set of elements that shape a potential horizon of meaning for the Ecuadorian philosophy of the future: returning to metaphysics and recovering onto-theo- teleology, reintroducing critical thinking by returning to a close reading of Marx, showing the need for a certain nihilism that considers the role of negativity in thought, and finally, confronting ourselves with the historicity of philosophical reflection by reconstructing Amerindian thought.
I. Program conditions for a future philosophy.
1. Imagine
for a moment that
we live on a planet
with many
more time zones than our own.
Imagine that we
live on the most remote
island, with a 36-hour
time difference
from the mainland.
Everything arrives here several days late. Let's also suppose
that access to this territory has become extremely
difficult; there's barely a
flight once a year, and ships only dock very occasionally.
This is how we live
in Ecuador,
despite appearances, mired
in a profound isolation caused by violence, poverty, and migration.
Stop thinking about those who have a visa and the financial means to leave whenever they want. This is the condition of the vast majority submerged in large slums, trapped in their own homes.
It is not a matter of artificially assuming the
representation
of those who
cannot
represent themselves politically or cognitively, as Spivak would say. The existence of this subaltern
mass
calls into question any theoretical framework we develop. The philosophy
we develop, even
if it does not explicitly address the situation of extreme isolation and suffering, is nonetheless shaped by this reality.
While we write
sitting
in a comfortable
chair, with the
best technology available,
probably in a stylish university cubicle, outside the air is filled with cries of pain.
Despite everything, or perhaps precisely because of it, philosophical reflection is essential. We are compelled to think. But how do we find the right way? How do we say what we want to say? How do we break out of isolation and begin a quiet conversation, without
fanfare, without trends, without pretension?
2. Imagine
a group of people
whose members
can only discuss concrete matters with each other. Higher levels of abstraction are blocked.
This is certainly not due to
the inherent qualities
of the
people on this earth. Rather, the barriers have been erected
from the outside.
So when they want
others in their group to know
how they see
the world, how they understand reality, how they organize their conception of the universe, they have to make the arduous
journey outside or go to an external mediator.
This mediator speaks,
interprets, conceptualizes, philosophizes. The others who want to understand the other
within their group read these elaborations, and the distorted dialogue, full of "sound and fury," allows for direct connection.
In the philosophy
produced
in countries
like ours, thinkers
are forced to rely on external authors and references, those officially authorized to think philosophically. In classrooms
and
cafes, in texts and speeches, we communicate exclusively through the words of others.
Moreover, the texts produced by those who are closest, perhaps in the classroom next door.
or within the same
journal, they are the ones who feel most distant. They don't read each other, they don't comment on each other,
they don't discuss each other; and if they do, it will
always be indirectly: "Deleuze says, Foucault
affirms, Nietzsche already mentioned it."
Sitting at a debate table, in seminars,
forums, meetings,
philosophers
do not look at each other, do not listen to each other, they ignore each other; sometimes someone refers to what the other has said, but only to specify that "Derrida had already mentioned it", or that "It has already been resolved by Guattari in his Chaosmosis".
One's
own assertions, in-depth
conceptual developments, and the implications of the viewpoints of those who share the same space disappear, erased by the dominance of
voices from outside, of those philosophies
we are obliged to repeat endlessly. Therefore,
if someone wants to be heard and read, they
must endure exile and return as an established philosophical voice.
Breaking this isolation doesn't mean abandoning classic or contemporary authors. It
means subjecting them to our own scrutiny, compelling them to say what we want them
to
say, opening ourselves to reading and interpreting the voice closest to us, recognizing their brilliance or their limitations.
Turn your
head, open your ears, pay attention to those who philosophize alongside
us.
3. Thinking about violence. It's difficult to think about violence. We don't know from where or how to approach it theoretically. As a brutal object, it barely
allows itself
to be captured, and when we finally manage to grasp it, it tears us to pieces.
The very act of contemplating violence is, in itself, a violent act perpetrated against
the one who
reflects upon it, because one cannot approach it in the same way as one would
approach any other subject. It compels
one to take a stand, bringing into play not only
ideas
but also values, and explosively mixing thought and feeling, rendering them
indistinguishable.
What
is said about violence places the speaker in a particular position, since
every truth judgment is simultaneously a value judgment. The subject of the utterance is trapped within it, without
any possibility of escape.
The language game surrounding violence is itself violence. To speak
of violence is to attack, to cut, to wound. Thoughts become confused and penetrate, like malignant larvae, fear, horror, dread, and trembling. Evil is banal only for the evil. For everyone else, the banality of evil does not exist.
Thinking in the midst of violence.
It should come as no surprise that intellectuals shy away from such a thorny subject. Even in sterile scientific articles, written behind closed doors and with
windows shut, one senses the ominous
presence of violence, which, blind and deaf, pounds on the ground, calling to us. It is necessary to cover our ears, close our eyes, look the other way, and pretend that nothing is happening.
If we must descend to the ninth circle of hell, whose hand will we take? What perspective must we adopt to endure the unbearable? For there is no alternative but to descend, leaving a piece of our soul behind at each level.
The danger of succumbing
to despair lurks at every turn.
How can we prevent the gangrenous work of despair from affecting
both body and mind?
II. Horizon of meaning for a philosophy of the future.
How can we speak of metaphysics? How can we do so when the mainstream leans toward its dissolution or overcoming? How can we articulate being
when it has been placed under the confines of onto-theo-teleology? We are constantly
led to navigate
the aporias that
manifest themselves in the program:
how can we not speak of being? We quickly arrive at
the
conclusion that only some kind of negative path is possible: nothing can be said about being.
However, metaphysics abounds everywhere, invading fields of knowledge
from physics to the social sciences; it even appears in its most distorted
version in esoteric variants that promise access
to a higher
sphere that would
drag consciousness to
those otherwise
unattainable realms.
The question also arises of the
relevance of
metaphysics amidst a reality that urgently demands
immediate answers to the magnitude of the civilizational, ecological, economic, and health crises. Is metaphysics merely an abstract knowledge that shuns confrontation with the world? Has the practice of metaphysics become a form of ideology?
On the contrary, it
will be argued
here that metaphysical debates
have become indispensable, both for discussing the multiplicity of approaches and for actually speaking about being, even if in the paradoxical form of saying nothing, or perhaps
nothingness. And this is only
possible if we want to avoid nonsense, if that
nothingness, which has been equated with being, or if you prefer, which conceals being to prevent it from being
confused with the entity, is a very talkative nothingness, unable to stop speaking, even if it
utters incoherence.
Something can be said about being, and whatever can be said will be metaphysics.
We arrive at a situation with enormous consequences, because it is being asserted that
something can be said about being and that, therefore, it is far from being excluded from
language, without being reduced to a particular entity, even if that entity adopts the form
or image of a god. We
can say something about being
without falling into either a positive
or
negative theology.
To
establish an anti-Kantian
shift that makes
metaphysics possible
and necessary, not excluding
it from the field of knowledge,
but rather
grounding all possible knowledge; and
placing epistemology within the horizon of metaphysics. It is being that allows access to
the thing-in-itself. For
this, it will be necessary
to unravel the Kantian entanglement of the
separation between phenomenon
and thing-in-itself.
How can we speak about
being
without
turning
it into just another entity like
any
other,
or even into some kind of special,
supreme, or transcendent being? Therein lies the task, the challenge. So,
how do we speak of being? How do we show that metaphysics always returns and cannot be dissolved, closed off, or deconstructed? Metaphysics is there, and it
imposes itself upon us. We can
either deny its existence,
and it will be determining what we
think without our realizing it; or we can make it explicit
and accept its consequences.
To achieve
this,
we must break
the seal
of closure
imposed
on the onto-theo-teleological. Metaphysics is closely linked to ontology, being to modes of being; teleology allows us to know where we are going, what goals we set for ourselves, what obstacles
we must avoid,
emphasizing the non-teleological nature of the world; and, particularly in the world we live in, where truth tends to disappear, we must reaffirm reason, taking into account that it will be necessary to specify what kind of rationality we are talking about.
A metaphysics that underpins ontology, teleology, and logos, and that is itself grounded in them. It demonstrates the ontological continuity between being and each of these modes of being. Metaphysics cannot be transcended; nothing lies beyond it. It belongs entirely to this world and not to the hereafter, emphasizing
that it is not equivalent to the description of things in their most general
sense.
Doing metaphysics cannot consist of
aiming
for an absolute reduction of the long metaphysical
discussions that have
taken place
throughout history, nor
can it consequently propose their complete
overcoming and the restart of a non-metaphysical way of thinking, one capable of speaking without naming being. Nor is it about embarking on some of the fashionable metaphysical currents, such as speculative realism.
Escaping
dogmatism and fundamentalist formulations, it will
be necessary
to engage in dialogue with diverse metaphysics and ontologies, without the intention of constructing
an eclectic system. This involves identifying, within each metaphysics under discussion,
its concerns, doubts, and impasses. It means doing metaphysics by reflecting on how
metaphysics has been and is being
done.
Travelling these intricate paths, it is possible to find
a way that
leads somewhere, an oasis in which to stop and understand that any point of arrival is provisional, that the
statements
made must be subjected
time and again
to debate, confronted
with other points of view, questioned in their foundations.
A metaphysics that shows the way to do metaphysics, that has within it the elements for its own representation, that the way in which
the being of things is conceived includes
the appropriate orientation for
the adoption of a language, a way of saying, even in the extreme
case that nothing has to be said, which would be part of the speaking of being.
Although it is not an ontology of physics, a metaphysics must take into account the
latest scientific
findings and be
entirely compatible with our current
understanding of the universe, that is, with the theory of relativity and quantum
mechanics. For example,
the notion of nothingness,
insofar as absolute emptiness is impossible, must serve as an
indispensable reference point; even more so considering that the interpretation of reality
from a physical perspective has become
deeply ingrained in metaphysical
debates.
With
all these elements,
it will be a drift in its double sense: a slow and continuous
variation
of this metaphysical endeavor and a departure from the usual, fashionable notions. Then, we will drift, letting ourselves be carried along by certain
currents without knowing beforehand where they will take us, running the risk of shipwreck or arriving at
unexpected destinations.
Derrida's
proposal, now an unshakeable paradigm, understands metaphysics as onto-
theo-teleology and its closure as the fundamental task of all contemporary
philosophy, which would have no alternative but to be deconstructionist, postmodern, posthuman, or
any
other variant thereof. Accepting this identification as valid, one must ask what
happens when we try to leave behind
these aspects destined to be overcome.
Is it truly possible to abandon the field of
onto-theo-teleology? What
remains if these spheres disappear? What emerges behind them but pure emptiness? In the most radical
proposals, it's not simply a matter of finding a higher principle to ground these fields and clarify
their constitution. They go much further. They seek to abolish them altogether. Or,
at
best, to leave
this sphere for inauthentic
beings, those who
struggle daily for
their survival. Furthermore, it includes a critique of science and technology, which are seen as the
cause of great misunderstandings and evils.
However,
these
objects of metaphysics
are indispensable for understanding
the world, especially in times
of such profound crisis. Let's say that a proper approach
to the world as a whole, which would be the core of metaphysics, necessarily includes ontology, theology, teleology, and logic. This does
not, however, imply
any stance on
the internal debates within each of
them; it merely
acknowledges that these
metaphysical objects demand
urgent answers.
Ontology: In a world so
deeply permeated by new information and communication technologies, biotechnologies, and new materials, within the context of globalization and
global
integration, debating the
nature of each of these realities becomes a constant
imperative. For example, what kind of reality are virtual
worlds? What are their effects and relationships with reality? Or, what is the impact of biotechnology on the fate of the species? Or, what is reality
if quantum mechanics presents an image that doesn't align with our
daily experiences? Are we mere
holograms? Does
time exist? Does
freedom exist?
Theology: Day by day we witness
how religions spread, becoming increasingly dogmatic and fundamentalist, penetrating all areas of life and knowledge.
Even academia adopts a religious style, and any belief quickly
transforms into dogma, vying
for dominance over all others. New
gods emerge everywhere,
their secular appearance not diminishing
their nature. On the other hand, theology, at least some theology, proposes distancing itself
from religion, distinguishing between faith and belief, and thus preserving the transcendent without losing its
fundamental commitment to people. We must understand
the religious phenomenon and, above all, analyze the origins of this profound
need for belief, dogma, and fundamentalism.
Teleology:
perhaps this is
one of the
points most
attacked by deconstruction, postmodernism, and their current versions. It has been said that there are no ends, which implies an exaltation
of the present over any construction of the future or openness
to any utopia. The hope for a better world is also abolished. Politics is either devastated or
transformed into a spontaneous machine of the masses who roam freely through social media. Organization and institutions are what must be combated. Everything would be destitution, nothing institutional. But never before has a
strategic vision of the world been
so
necessary, without which we cannot
confront the crises that overwhelm us. Refusing
to propose a teleology leaves the course that humanity follows in the hands of those who
have destroyed it.
Logic: two fields have been questioned in proposals to overcome metaphysics: reason and representation, which are certainly intertwined. There would be a privileging of affect, of feelings, over reason; feeling would have prevailed over thinking. The body would have triumphed over
the mind and become the locus of truth for subjects, where the processes
of subjectivation occur. But, at this moment,
what we need is the utmost
rationality; for example, in the face of irrationalism surrounding vaccines or the denial of the ecological
crisis. While it is true that a
thorough critique of science and technology is necessary, they
cannot simply be discarded; on the contrary,
a radical reaffirmation of scientific facts is required.
On the other hand, there is
the
issue of representation. Here
too, presentation would have triumphed over representation. Again, bodies,
images, and affects would be sufficient and
would require no representation whatsoever. However, the defense of affects
is carried out
precisely through vast
and countless discourses that
are nothing other than
representations. Never before has
there been so much talk about the body and
feelings.
Never before have
they been so
deeply entangled in
a representational web.
Therefore, the
question should rather be: What representations? How are affect and
representation inextricably linked? We must delve into the battle of representations that populate social networks and virtual worlds.
As long
as capitalism exists, Marx will be present in some form.
We need
a radical critique of capitalism that becomes the guiding principle of philosophical reflection. For this, it will be necessary
to rebuild critical thinking, which is currently in crisis.
Critical
thinking is besieged
by the currents of post-truth and conspiratorial attitudes, which become the ideological foundation for the rise of the far right and fascism. Faced with this, we must defend the truth, even if only in the form it can be sustained—as a
provisional truth—against the onslaught of irrationality.
That is, to oppose the irrationality of capital with some kind of alternative rationality that points in
the direction in
which we must move
forward and that
guides philosophical reflection, opening it up to the possibility of reconstructing and inventing the meanings that humanity needs.
The significance of Marx's presence has to do with
emancipation, with the emergence of a philosophy with an
emancipatory interest, for
which no
struggle against the
countless forms of oppression is indifferent.
An approach
to the various
theories that come from gender, class, race and nature, delving
into their common forms of constitution, the marks of the inherence
of one in another;
that is, the impossibility of the exteriority of any of them.
Certainly,
reinventing
dialectics
on entirely different
foundations, through a close
reading of Marx's work, will allow us to affirm that we are dealing with a Marx who speaks for himself, free from
both classical and
vulgar distortions. The
results of
this inquiry will provide the
epistemology and methodology indispensable for
understanding and transforming reality.
In these
dark times, when truth has fled the public sphere and an anti-scientific
discourse, weaponized
by reactionary
movements, is increasingly
prevalent, it becomes
urgent to return to dialectics as a tool for understanding and intervening in social reality. Of course, this dialectic
also requires a
critical perspective
that allows us
to account for contemporary phenomena in all
their breadth and complexity.
To begin
a slow and patient elucidation of the dialectic that Marx uses to account
for the fluid movement of capital, its trajectories, and the formation of its laws.
This is, above all,
a work on language, stating:
These are the terms that Marx uses, along with the meanings he
attributes to them, as well as the clear preferences whose existence we observe.
Terms, constants, structures, and dialectical
processes will
take
shape before our eyes. They will also tend to repeat themselves and
appear as trends, such as the
persistent question of the personifications of capital or the ways in which representations occur in the
consciousness of these individuals.
At the end of all these meticulous readings, the main findings will be what we call dialectical epistemology and phenomenological dialectics. But this
is actually an end point,
not
a starting point.
The analysis, on
the contrary,
will uncover each
specific epistemological and methodological element,
which unfolds across works and chapters, ultimately
yielding a fairly complete picture of Marxist epistemology and methodology.
The
need to set aside the classical approaches of dialectical logic,
its laws, determinations, schemes of contradiction, the endless references to fetishized and dogmatized phrases,
such as the ascent of the abstract
to the concrete or the complex is the synthesis of many
determinations, or
the obligatory reference
to Hegel from where everything in Marx would be taken, even if inverted, which are not found in Capital or in other of his
works.
We prefer a close reading of Marx,
focusing solely on what is found there,
even
if it does not coincide with the canonized version of
dialectics. Nor is this a judgment on the validity of later developments of dialectics as they emerged
from Engels and Lenin. Rather, we are saying:
This classical characterization of dialectics is not found in Marx.
Consistent with this approach, we grasp not just
the phenomenon, but the entire phenomenon,
even if this means bringing to light dialectical attributes that are practically
never
discussed in the literature, such as the concepts of form, function, expression, and antagonism, among others. For example, the notion of function
and functional is repeated many times in Marx and tends to replace determination.
Therefore, if the term function is found in Marx and occupies an important place, it must be explained,
rather than hidden
or ignored.
6. A
Certain Nihilism.
Dialectical thought inherently involves
nihilism
as one of its essential and indispensable aspects. The word nihilism resonates in our ears in many ways, carrying with it a wealth of semantic weight and centuries of debate, often with a negative connotation.
Therefore,
it is necessary to clearly define what this nihilism emerging from dialectical thought refers
to, especially in those aspects that differentiate it from tradition and,
above
all, from Nietzschean
positions. First,
we must move away from metaphysical debates surrounding nihilism.
It is not about being, which in its most abstract form would be equivalent
to nothingness; even less so, is it a path to overcome the entirety of Western philosophy.
Dialectical nihilism is historical: the values and
corresponding ways of life that humanity has adopted
have not been able to resolve its crucial problems; so far, no principle, system, assertion, ideology, religion, science, or anything else, has demonstrated the capacity to find a way out that will stop humanity
from self-destruction. On the contrary,
every idea that arises, every theory and practice
that is proposed and applied, either leads to the
opposite effect of what it intends or ends up being marginal to the planet's
problems. And, as we see at every turn, they soon
become ideologies that
fuel
killing machines, that reintroduce
fascism into the world.
Secondly, while it shares with nihilism
the rejection of
Judeo-Christian civilization, it does not transform nihilism into a moment that is superseded by something else—for example, the will to
power—through the affirmation of values other
than those rejected.
Nor does it elevate nihilism
to a status that makes it a metaphysical entity, a fundamentalist
“negative value.”
However important these positions may be, dialectical nihilism is far from being a necessary step for evolving, growing, improving, or accessing the truth. It is not a bitter and terrible passage that then casts us onto a paradisiacal
shore or, simply, into the raw exercise of power
over others, into the will to power.
Dialectical nihilism is a place where
one remains, where one must stay, a place that now lacks an exit point
that affirms other values as truths to be believed, to be
followed with some kind of faith. And if one temporarily distances oneself from it, one must return.
Therefore, it is considered to have the structure of a double bind: the adoption of values
for which
society fights,
and the
subsequent rejection of these values to prevent them from becoming fundamentalism, to demonstrate their obsolescence. It involves adopting
values
that sooner or later
must be discarded, values we approach with a “strategic essentialism,” but which we ultimately question from a nihilistic perspective.
And this attitude becomes indispensable because we live in a world where any idea, belief, or practice quickly transforms into an absolute
principle
or value, always going further
than it proposes.
This happens even in cases where the values being preached are
just: democracy, ecology, peace,
animal rights.
It suffices to
mention the monstrous
crimes committed in the name of democracy or any other ideology.
It's not about denying the validity of these battles, but about adopting a nihilistic attitude toward them,
because only that will prevent them from becoming ferocious ideologies that destroy all others.
Moreover, if any of these groups were to seize power, they would most likely end
up as brutal dictatorships.
This
dialectical nihilism reveals
the essential,
structural limitations of
any value in two dimensions: those that
originate from outside,
insofar as
no value is
capable of representing
all of humanity
in the vast diversity of its manifestations, demands, and challenges.
The defense of any value, however just it may claim to be, inevitably
excludes other equally just values.
The
limitations that are inherent
to it and that end up manifesting
themselves from its very beginning; as Fredric Jameson points out, there is not only that which opposes, confronts, and contradicts a phenomenon, as part of the negative moment of dialectics, but there is
also
that other negativity
within any reality or value, which comes from within, which is constitutive
of it and which will lead to its destruction.
This dialectical nihilism extends to the global order, questioning the ways of life not only of the West but also of the East, the North and the South, and of emancipatory movements of all kinds. I insist that it does not seek to renounce
liberation struggles against all forms
of power, but rather to expose the inherent negativity they contain,
which, once in power, has taken control of the process,
transforming it into its very
opposite.
The
dialectical perspective reveals
nihilism's twofold negativity: on
the one hand,
that which is external to it, and on the other, that which is inherent
to it. Every phenomenon
faces external conditions that threaten its
existence, its development.
Within
this externality, two modes can be distinguished: that which stems from another phenomenon without
a direct relationship
to the reality in question; and that which originates within
the phenomenon
itself, excreting it and placing
it out there, as its opposite, as its contradiction. The work
of the dialectic in nihilism is dedicated
to unveiling this other inherent, internal negativity of the phenomenon, which, sooner or later, will
end up destroying it, regardless of the actions it undertakes.
or stop engaging in external contradiction.
From
this core come the limitations
of life
forms, their destiny that leads
them to obsolescence, to the impossibility of becoming general principles that solve the problems of humanity.
This
second negativity that dialectical thought reveals is not the negative moment
of a positivity that returns, overcome and realized,
in a third moment—a kind of negation
of the negation—that yields
an unprecedented positivity supposedly resolving
the contradictions of the previous
moments. This negation does not lead to a solution, but to
destruction, decomposition, and barbarism.
No
reality can escape
this inherent principle of self-destruction that shapes and constitutes it, a principle it cannot even dispense with. Dialectical nihilism has the task of making explicit,
with respect to all forms of life, their values, and their beliefs,
this destructive principle
that resides at the core of existence.
Once this zero degree of
negativity is brought
to light, it
must be confronted. Various possibilities exist, which must be resolved according to the specific situations; however, some
courses of action could be followed.
To insist on this inherent negativity
and take
it to its ultimate consequences
in order to make it explode through
its dismissal; to guide it
to its full realization so that it is exhausted and disappears; this may be the case, for example, with the relationship to be established with postmodern art and with other canons in the West. To take canonical or fashionable artistic trends to their fulfillment; there it will be seen that they have nothing more to offer, that it is time to discard them. Parody or pastiche could play an important role here.
To combat these self-destructive negativities and
prevent them from contaminating the rest of
society, to properly deconstruct them by externalizing the principles of their operation or the consequences they would lead to if their
movement were to be
completed.
For example, to
analyze how the
decolonial
theory of cultural studies, if it
were to gain power in any country, would quickly acquire a dystopian, dictatorial
dimension. That is, if the political
presuppositions of decolonial
theory—which contain this self-destructive negativity—were extracted, we would have a brutal
dictatorship.
Maximum
awareness and control of one's own negative
tendencies inherent in
the discourses and
practices one holds; sooner or later, the positions held will ultimately reveal the barbarity that underlies them. At some point, one will have to "disagree with oneself," probably at the moment
when others begin to
agree with one.
Dialectical
nihilism
attempts to
show this movement of transformation as something that, nevertheless, allows one to remain true to oneself.
Underlying this are ontological and methodological questions that must be brought to
light.
If we allow these transformations, which in almost all cases
are imposed upon us,
to act without
further ado, if
we leave them
to their own devices, the world we enter will
destroy
ours; that other culture will consume ours without residue;
for example, by turning it into a multicultural
object of mass consumption.
Two sequences can be distinguished within
the dialectical transformation: first, we become others, we become Western and modern, better than they do, fully; we take late
modernity
as our task:
we fight for
democracy, for human rights, against hunger, for peace,
against the destruction of the planet, more radically
than they do.
This dialectical nihilism, as political action and representation
of the world, allows
us to recognize in the
actions of the masses those prefigurations of
another way of life that they invent, always
provisionally and precariously—those ephemeral particles that emerge
from
nothingness and
then plunge back into nothingness. It is up to us to reflect on
them, to theorize about them, to find ways to ensure their continuity. We must be guided by these glimmers, which are soon displaced by other "lights": the great mass mobilizations
of
our century that were "betrayed" and
that led to
authoritarian governments, dictatorships, and civil wars.
This is a double-bind strategy, in
which
we oscillate between
defending these modern values and, at the same time, knowing that we have to leave them behind, to replace them with something else. While this is happening, we go from one extreme to the other,
negotiating the forms and timing of our practices
and our discourses.
However,
another major issue needs to be addressed. How is this
nihilistic gesture, which denies a way of life along with its values, replaced?
What is the nature
of these
other values that are
invented or proposed?
And here,
nihilistic consciousness and
attitude continue to operate. From a dialectical perspective, nihilism is not something
one can escape or
leave behind. There is no dialectical moment
of overcoming it;
rather, it implies
a negativity in
which one must remain, inhabit. And
this is not a choice.
It is simply
the historical fact of living in the era of
late
capitalism and that humanity has not found a way out of it. In this sense, dialectical
nihilism is not metaphysical, a kind of relationship between nothingness and the hidden
being.
Thus,
a value that replaces another—or that intends
to do so—must be subjected to this same dialectical nihilistic machine: we enter into that value, we fight for it, we represent the world through it;
and, simultaneously, we
show the zero
degree of
negation that externalizes those elements that make it
self-destructive regardless of the external
factors that oppose it.
There is no will to power
that affirms “life” and allows for the replacement of man
by the superman;
rather, there is a will to power that is always exercised
over others. Even when affirming life, the will to power is always a will that demands the obedience
of others, a
machine
of oppression. There is no
exteriority to this
machine; no situation
or theory exists
that stands outside of it, regardless of its origin, even if it comes from the essentialized Global South, anti-globalization movements, or alternative epistemologies.
7. Amerindian
Thought.
While the primary task is to
bring Amerindian ontologies to light,
the aim is to avoid falling into the
trap of relativism,
which would merely acknowledge the existence of these
worldviews.
On the contrary,
the question of the validity of these ontologies, of our
understandings of reality, is a constant underlying issue.
This
point is particularly relevant in the current civilizational crisis we are experiencing, due to the ecological
disaster, the risk to humanity as a species
posed by the pandemic,
the
failure of capitalism to solve humanity's major problems,
the breakdown of daily life,
and
the explosion of subjectivities. All of this leads us to the immediate choice between socialism
and barbarism.
Reflecting on Amerindian ontology
aims
to consider the possibility of alternative realities, other ways
of existing and
relating to one another, and the
constitution of
worlds different from the one we inhabit.
I believe that
one of the
essential components for formulating a world beyond capitalism will be that which stems from Indigenous thought and ways of life.
It's not about romantically finding all the answers, but at least
it will point the way to finding the right proposals for our times. These aspects, along with other equally important ones such as the critique of political economy, epistemological debates surrounding science
and technology, current
software and biotechnology, allow us to obtain
a new vision of the future.
It will be essential to develop a thorough comparison and confrontation
of Amerindian thought with the main Western philosophical currents, to engage them in a cannibalistic, hacker-like approach, to examine them from this perspective and correct them. At the
same time, we must learn from them, avoiding falling into the exoticism
of the “absolutely
other” that has
hindered this dialogue
and debate, and
instead compel us
to think of humanity
as a species, humanity in its universality, without discarding local perspectives.
Ultimately, what is at stake right
now is the future of humanity, which includes the brutal question: will there even be a
future? The future lies ahead, and it will be up to all of us to decide where
it is led.
We must move
away from visions of the
automatic collapse of capitalism, which will not
happen, and from
pessimisms that simply foretell
a greater catastrophe.
In this
context,
much can be learned
from
Amerindian thought by freeing ourselves from the limitations imposed by academia or by the proliferation of speculations—many with a
clear
New Age slant—that
have frozen Indigenous ontology into a series of endlessly repeated formulas. Rethinking the Indigenous
world and asking ourselves: What aspects remain
valid? What proposals
need to be developed to adapt
them to the modern world? Which images
are perhaps too
local and specific? Which
images of reality are generalizable and which are not?
Where would an ontology of others be stated or announced? Certainly in nuce, in all these developments.
However, a direct and rigorous reflection
on the ontology of others is
necessary. We must avoid falling
into the trap of the discourse
that maintains there is no indigenous ontology
because this category is strictly Western. But we have no other
categories with which to think, so
with these, there is an approach to that different
world, forced to express
what it finds in another reality, and then there remains the enormous
task of redefining ontology as well as all
the findings discovered.
It is certainly possible to state: there is a Western ontology and an ontology of others.
This statement does not hold up in terms of its truth,
that is, its agreement
with what exists.
Here
we have a completely exclusive disjunction: either one or the
other, with no
possibility of a middle ground, of coexistence, neither conflictive nor peaceful. We have
opposing ethics
that are in constant
conflict. In ontology, there is only one
that is the best possible truth at this given
moment; the other is
necessarily wrong, false, or does not
correspond to what exists.
Ontology
shuns relativism to the same extent that it shuns dogmatism.
Relativism is impossible because one cannot say
the same
thing and its opposite about reality simultaneously, under the same aspect. Dogmatism is also impossible
because ontology is never complete; it is always an approximation of what truly is. Or, to put it another
way, there will always be a better
theory than the current one.
The
image that the ontology of others reveals will be incompatible with the ontology currently considered canonical in the West, insofar as they refer to incompatible worlds, because they posit completely different and irreconcilable subjects, objects, and
relationships. Archaeology and anthropology, the sciences that underpin this
reflection, cannot escape, and do not wish to escape, their disciplinary boundaries. They advance to the point of showing that there is a multiplicity of ontologies,
all with an equal degree of validity, but they stop short when it comes to contrasting them with reality and comparing
them with one another. Despite
these pronouncements, a relativistic bias remains.
Postulating
an ontology outside the traditional frameworks of philosophy is particularly difficult, because words barely
suffice to express what one seeks to say, because what one wants to express perhaps
occupies the provisional
space of the inexpressible. There is a
constant
struggle with the chosen words: perspectivism, occasionalism, planes of consistency, discordance of times … all touch upon an aspect of what one wants to state, but there
is still no
single term that allows us
to articulate this new ontology with the desired precision
and rigor.
It is not merely a matter of linguistic difficulties, but of the barely perceptible existence of another possible world, an embryonic, fragile, and difficult-to-recognize mode that
disrupts the relationship between
word and object far more often
than we would like, and allows those meanings we try to avoid to slip in through the window: relativism,
essentialism, dogmatism, dualism.
