Nietzsche wrote in his book The Anti-Christ, ‘What is good? All that heightens the feeling of power, the will to power, power itself in man.’1 This is a poignant example of what Augustine termed ‘The city of man’ and ‘love of self, even to the point of contempt for God’, which as I wrote in the previous article, is in stark contrast to ‘love of God, even to the point of contempt for self, [which] made the heavenly city.’2 Indeed, Nietzsche himself knew that he was presenting an opposing vision for humanity and society, hence the title for his book, ‘The Anti-Christ’.
Whilst Augustine’s vision for a society shaped by the city of heaven still influences us in America, on both the left and the right of the political spectrum, we have, in significant ways, become more and more children of Nietzsche. Nietzsche has become our teacher.
Here are three dynamics of Nietzsche’s philosophy influencing our politics today, some implications of these dynamics, and suggestions for how those living for the heavenly city might respond.
Nietzsche taught a hermeneutic (a way of seeing the world) predicated on power.3 'My idea is that every specific body strives to become master of all space, and to extend its power (its will to power), and to thrust back everything that resists it.’4
Similarly, the political left increasingly sees the world through lenses of power. There is a strong concern for equalizing power imbalances and promoting liberty by removing roadblocks to social groups who lack power. As part of this hermeneutic, theories have arisen with moorings in Marx’s philosophy that view people through intersections of power and advocate a reversal of society’s power dynamics.
The political right may see itself in opposition to such views, but the rise of populism suggests otherwise. For Nietzsche, the embodiment of the will to power was the Ubermensch (the Overman or Superman), one who came to cleanse humanity from its weakened and corrupted state,
‘In truth, man is a polluted river. One must be a sea to receive a polluted river without becoming defiled. I teach you the Overman! He is that sea; in him your great contempt can go under.’5
Similarly, populism portrays ‘the people’ (the populus) as weakened by corrupt powers, usually at the top of society, and weakened by those coming into the populus from outside. Complex social issues are typically reduced to this corrupting/weakening narrative, with the Overman the one person who ‘says it as it is’ and offers to clean things up (notice the language), restoring the people’s strength. If this sounds familiar, that’s the point.
Implications
Even when it has some explanatory use, the hermeneutic of power can’t chart a constructive way forward. Power reduces everything to a zero-sum game. Someone (or some party) has it, must hold it at all costs, or have it taken from them. We would do well to reflect on the bloody regimes of the twentieth century who, whether underpinned by Nietzsche or Marx, saw the world this way.
How can we respond?
The gospel of Jesus Christ is a hermeneutic of love, not power. The foundational reality in the universe is God, who is love and gives up his power for the sake of others, supremely by his Son’s sacrifice on the cross. Christians should reject a ‘win at all costs’ and a ‘winners and losers’ mentality in politics (and in general). Instead, seeing the world through a way of love envisions a future of mutual flourishing, not just the winners. Such mutual flourishing is achieved by not using power only to benefit those who have it but for the good of others. Note that loving others is not the same as affirming everything about them, instead love is seeking their good which may require gracious disagreement with them. However, the curious paradox with power is that when we give it up for the sake of others, then it multiplies. This leads to flourishing both for the giver and the beneficiary. How different politics and political discourse would be if we lived this out.
One of the problems with power being the bottom line is that it erodes truth. Nietzsche wrote in his Notes, ‘Against that positivism which stops before phenomena, saying “there are only facts,” I should say: no, it is precisely facts that do not exist, only interpretations.’6 What is ‘true’ is the interpretation of the group in power.
Implications
This gives rise to a hermeneutic of suspicion. If politicians talk about the ‘flourishing of society’, we do not think they mean what they say. The language of the common good is just a mask of rhetoric that manipulates people into believing them, increasing their power. And it’s not just politicians; we also become suspicious of one another. This erodes relationships and the very foundations of civil dialogue. The rise of fake news, the blurring of boundaries between reporting and commenting on the news, social-media echo chambers, and the prevalence of both sides of the political spectrum adopting tactics once reserved for propaganda in totalitarian regimes should alarm us.
How can we respond?
Jesus is memorably described as ‘full of grace and truth’ (John 1:14). His grace and truth are fully revealed at the cross where the objective stubborn ‘truth’ about our sin and his amazing grace meet. When we believe this, we can be charitable to others while pursuing truth, seeking to see the best in them whilst not being naive: If sin and our propensity to deception are so serious that Jesus had to die, how can we be naive? However, if Jesus has extended such grace that he was prepared to die for us, how can we not be charitable? Charity will look like seeking to understand others and foster good dialogue, not because people never have ulterior motives, but because we are secure enough not to default to cynicism. Such an approach will also make us committed to truth, being careful not to buy into propaganda, half-truths, and the fake news that will inevitably be part of this election cycle. Such an approach will push back on a hermeneutic of suspicion.
Like the erosion of truth, a hermeneutic of power relativises morality. Morals are seen as mere values that those in power impose on others, ‘The distinctions of moral values have either originated in a ruling caste, pleasantly conscious of being different from the ruled—or among the ruled class, the slaves and dependents of all sorts. In the first case, when it is the rulers who determine the conception "good," it is the exalted, proud disposition which is regarded as the distinguishing feature, and that which determines the order of rank.’7
Implications
Nietzsche concluded from this view that Judaeo-Christianity was a ‘slave morality’ that was harmful because it weakened society. Similarly, particularly within large parts of the political left, Judaeo-Christian ethics like the rights of the unborn, those with disabilities (and increasingly the rights of the elderly), the fixed reality of biological sex, and Christian sexual norms are not just viewed as outdated but dangerous, inhibiting our march to ‘progress’.
However, the relativising of ethics also grips large swathes of the right who are too prone to adopt aggressive and xenophobic rhetoric when describing those in their political crosshairs and to overlook the character failings of populist leaders. In my context, in the UK in 2018, Boris Johnson racistly described Muslim women wearing burkhas and niqabs as looking like ‘bank robbers’ and ‘letterboxes’, incurring the ire of liberals but strengthening his appeal to his populist base. Similar examples abound in the US during the last two political cycles.
How can we respond?
If we live for a heavenly city marked by a love of God and others, morality can never be merely a function of power; power must serve love and the flourishing of humanity. This does not mean we can expect people to agree with Christian morals, but we should be confident that far from being dangerous, Christian ethics is the path to flourishing.
At the same time, we need to be acutely aware of the terrible irony that glossing over (or even justifying) the moral failings of politicians advancing, in some areas, a Judaeo-Christian ethical position undermines our witness. Humility, gentleness, self-control, honesty, and charity are to be praised in leaders with whom we disagree. In the same way pride, aggression, anger, deceit, and self-aggrandisement should be lamented and called out in leaders, even in those with policies we may agree.
Love Not Power
As we close, we would do well to heed Augustine’s warning and exhortation, ‘While some steadfastly continued in that which was the common good of all, namely, in God Himself, and in His eternity, truth, and love; others, being enamored rather of their own power, as if they could be their own good… became proud, deceived, envious. The cause, therefore, of the blessedness of the good is adherence to God.’8
Or as Micah puts it, ‘He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. And what does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.’ (Micah 6:8 NIV)
Endnotes
[1] Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Anti-Christ. Section 2.
[2] St. Augustine's City of God and Christian Doctrine (Tr. by Philip Schaff) Book XIV. 28.
[3] He is not the only philosopher to teach this, he was developing aspects of Schopenhauer’s work, and others writing in the 19th century saw the world through this lens too, notably Marx.
[4] Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Will To Power. Section 636.
[5] Nietzsche, Friedrich. Thus Spoke Zarathustra. Prologue.
[6] Nietzsche, Friedrich. Notes. 457-458.
[7] Nietzsche, Friedrich. Beyond Good And Evil. Section 260.
[8] St Augustine. The City Of God. Book XII. Chapter 1.
