Martin Heidegger. Between Good and Evil (review)

Martin Heidegger is without doubt the most controversial philosophical figure of the first half of the twentieth century; and there can be little doubt that he will remain controversial for a long time to come. Many regard him as one of the greatest philosophers of all times, but many others view him as little more than a charlatan. His work is widely popular in some circles while completely neglected in others. Another part of the reason for this is Heidegger’s life. A German nationalist from early in his life, his jingoism turned quickly and almost naturally into Nazism at what seemed to be an opportune moment. Accordingly, it has seemed to a number of critical scholars that his philosophy was ready-made for this ideology. His work and life therefore seem more closely connected than they usually are among philosophers. And what his life reveals, or seems to reveal, is neither insignificant nor pretty.

Accordingly, there have been quite a few biographical and semi-biographical studies of Heidegger recently. Safranski’s biography is not the worst of these. The original German title was Ein Meister aus Deutschland. Heidegger und seine Zeit, which literally translated would have read: “A Master from Germany. Heidegger and His Time.” Safranski is explicit about the reason for the title: Heidegger “really was a ‘master’ from the school of the mystic Meister Eckhart. More than anyone else, he kept open the horizon for religious experience in a nonreligious age. He found away of thinking that remains close to things and avoids a crash into banality.” But, secondly, “he really was very ‘German’ … What emerges is the lovable, the fascinating, and the abysmally profound element of a specific German road in philosophy, one that was to become a European event.” And then, “through his political activity he also had about him something of that master from Germany that Paul Celan’s poem refers to” (x). The poem is of course the “Deathfugue.” It compellingly speaks of life and death—especially death—in German concentration camps, repeating several times the line “this death is a master from Germany.”

One might doubt whether Heidegger always avoids “a crash into banality.” One might also be skeptical whether the “specific German road to philosophy” is “lovable” and “abysmally profound.” But Heidegger is certainly a fascinating figure, and his political and philosophical actions cannot and must not be seen in isolation from the death that so many died in German concentration camps. It was not just that Heidegger had “about him something of that master from Germany,” but he played a part in creating the mythology that made this master possible. Perhaps his was not the most important part, but it was not insignificant either. And the short account of how Celan and Heidegger met and tried to come to terms with each other (422–425) is one of the most interesting parts of the book. Indeed, I wish that Safranski had chosen to concentrate more on this aspect of Heidegger’s mastership. But what is utterly incomprehensible to me is why the editors chose to publish the book with the subtitle “between good and evil.” It belittles the very problem Safranski’s connection raises. To be sure, Safranski himself concentrates more on Heidegger’s mysticism and his German road in philosophy, and he does not ultimately face up to the connections between Heidegger’s religiosity and mysticism, his fascination with death and dying, and the death Celan laments in his poem.

Yet, there is much that is interesting and important in the book. It tells the story of Heidegger’s life better than any previous biography, and it shows how closely Heidegger’s early thinking was connected with the currents that shaped intellectual life in Germany during the twenties and thirties of the twentieth century. More specifically, he calls attention to Heidegger’s affinities with Dadaism (99–100), and he emphasizes the importance of Heidegger’s “secret principal work...