Symbolism & Philosophy

If, as we have just explained, symbolism is inherent to everything of a traditional character, it is also one of the features by which traditional doctrines in their totality (for this applies to both the esoteric and cxoteric domains) differ at first glance from profane thought, to which such symbolism is necessarily wholly foreign since it expresses something 'non-human', which can never be present in such thought. Nevertheless, philosophers, who are, as it were, the pre-eminent representatives of profane thought but who claim to involve themselves with the most diverse matters as if their competence knew no bounds, sometimes dabble with symbolism and formulate rather strange theories; for instance, some have tried to create a 'psychology of symbolism', something connected to that specifically modern error of 'psychologism' which is itself only a particular case of the tendency to reduce everything to exclusively human clements. Others, however, do recognize that symbolism is not dependent on philosophy, but they then attach a clearly unfavorable interpretation to this assertion, as if symbolism were an inferior and cven a negligible thing; listening to them, one suspects that they are simply confusing it with the pseudo-symbolism of certain literati and are thus mistaking an entirely abusive and misleading use of the word for its true meaning. In reality, if symbolism is, as they say, a 'form of thought' (which is true in a certain sense, although this does not preclude its being primarily something else), philosophy is so too, though one that is radically different from symbolism and opposed to it in several respects. One can go further: that form of thought represented by philosophy corresponds only to a quite special point of view, of which the greatest failing, inherent to all profane thought, is not knowing or wishing to recognize any limits, and which, even in the most favorable cases, is valid only within a very restricted domain. Even if one should fail to recognize here anything more than two forms of thought (which amounts to confusing the use of symbolism with its very essence), it would be a serious error to put them on the same level, for symbolism, as should be clear now, has an altogether different value. That philosophers may not share this opinion proves nothing, for to situate things correctly one must first consider them impartially, which, under the circumstances, they cannot do; as for us, we are firmly of the opinion that, as philosophers, they will never succeed in penetrating to the deeper meaning of even the least important symbol, because symbolism goes entirely beyond their manner of thinking and thus inevitably eludes their grasp. Those acquainted with our frequent remarks concerning philosophy will not be surprised to see it accorded only a very modest importance; in order to recognize its subordinate position it suffices simply to recall that every mode of expression necessarily has a symbolic character, in the most general sense of this term, with respect to what it expresses. Philosophers cannot but use words, and these words are in themselves nothing other than symbols; it is therefore philosophy that in a certain way, albeit quite unconsciously, enters the domain of symbolism, and not the reverse. However, in another respect there is an opposition between philosophy and symbolism, if one understands this latter in its usual more restricted sense, which is what is intended when we consider it as characterizing traditional doctrines; philosophy, like everything expressed in ordinary forms of language, is essentially analytic, whereas symbolism is essentially synthetic. The form of language is by very definition 'discursive', as is human reason, of which it is the proper instrument, and of which it follows or reproduces every step as exactly as possible; symbolism in its strict sense is, on the contrary, truly 'intuitive', which quite naturally renders it incomparably more suitable than language to serve as a support for intellectual and supra-rational intuition, which is precisely why it constitutes the mode of expression par excellence of all initiatic teaching. As to philosophy, it in a way represents the type of discursive thought (which, of course, does not mean that all discursive thought has a specifically philosophical character), and it is this that imposes limitations on it from which it cannot free itself; symbolism on the other hand, as a support of transcendent intuition, opens truly unlimited possibilities. The discursive character of philosophy makes it exclusively rational since this characteristic is peculiar to reason in itself; therefore the domain of philosophy and its possibilities cannot in any case extend beyond the capacity of reason; moreover, it represents only a certain rather particular use of that faculty, for it is evident, even if only from the mere existence of independent sciences, that in the domain of rational knowledge itself there are many things that do not fall within the competence of philosophy. This is not in any way to contest the value of reason, as long as it does not try to exceed its proper domain, [1] but this value, as also this domain, can only be relative; moreover, did not the word ratio itself originally have the meaning of 'relation'? We have no dispute with the legitimacy of dialectic within certain limits, even though it is frequently misused by philosophers; still, dialectic can never be an end in itself, but only a means, and perhaps even a means that is not universally applicable; but to realize this implies going beyond the limits of dialectic, and it is this that the philosopher as such cannot do. Even if we extend philosophy as far as is theoretically possible, that is, to the extreme limits of the domain of reason, in truth it still includes very little, for, to use a Gospel expression, 'one thing alone is needful,' and it is precisely this that will always remain inaccessible to philosophy since it lies above and beyond all rational knowledge. In the face of the inexpressible, that is, of 'mystery' in the truest and most profound sense of the word, of what use are the discursive methods of philosophy? On the contrary, the essential function of symbolism, let us repeat, is to make the inexpressible 'accessible', to furnish the support that effectively permits intellectual intuition to reach it. Who, having understood this, could still deny the immense superiority of symbolism and contest that its scope is incomparably greater than that of any possible philosophy? However excellent and perfect in its kind a philosophy may be (and we are certainly not thinking of the modern philosophies in making such a proviso), it remains 'only straw', to use an expression from Saint Thomas Aquinas himself, who, though not inclined to overly disparage philosophical thought, at least understood its limitations. There is however something else: to consider symbolism as a 'form of thought' is to envisage it only in a purely human respect, which indeed is clearly the only way it can be compared to philosophy; doubtless it must be so considered insofar as it is a mode of expression available to man, yet in truth this is far from sufficient and in no way touches its essence, representing only the most outward aspect of the matter. We have cmphasized the 'non-human' side of symbolism enough so that we need not return to it here; it will suffice, in short, to state that its foundation is in the very nature of beings and things, and is in perfect conformity with the laws of that nature, and to reflect on how natural laws themselves are ultimately only an expression and a kind of exteriorization, as it were, of the divine or principial Will. The true foundation of symbolism is the correspondence that exists among all orders of reality, that links one to another, and that therefore extends from the natural order taken in its entirety to the supernatural order itself. By virtue of this correspondence all of nature is itself only a symbol, that is to say it receives its true meaning only if seen as a support to raise us to the knowledge of supernatural or 'metaphysical' (in its proper and etymological sense) truths, which is precisely the essential function of symbolism as well as the fundamental purpose of all traditional science. [2] For this very reason symbolism necessarily. contains something of which the origin extends beyond humanity, and one can say that this origin lies in the very Divine Word. It is first of all in universal manifestation itself, and then, with respect more especially to humanity, in the primordial tradition-which is also very much a 'revelation' of the Word-that Tradition, from which all other traditional forms are derived, is incorporated, so to speak, in symbols transmitted from age to age without our being able to assign them any 'historical' origin; and the process of this symbolic incorporation is analogous in its own order to that of manifestation. [3] Faced with these prerogatives which establish the transcendent value of symbolism, what can philosophy ever really lay claim to? The origin of symbolism is truly identical with the origin of time, if it does not in a sense even lie beyond-time, since in reality this comprises only one particular mode of manifestation; [4] and since we have already indicated that no authentically traditional symbol can be traced to human invention-attributed, that is, to the ingenuity of some particular individual-should not this very fact be cause for reflection? The provenance of all philosophy is, on the contrary, always some definite and in fact recent epoch, even if it is a matter of 'classical' antiquity, which is only a very relative antiquity (which proves quite well that even in human terms this special form of thought pertains to nothing essential); [5] it is always the work of a man whose name and dates are known to us, and his name is usually used to designate it, clearly demonstrating that there is nothing here but the individual and the human. This is why we have just said that we can compare philosophy and symbolism only on the condition that we restrict ourselves to considering symbolism in its human aspect, since for everything else we can find in the philosophic order neither equivalence nor even correspondence of any kind. In the most favorable light, philosophy is thus 'human wisdom', or one of its forms, but in any case it remains just that, which is why we can say that it is ultimately a very meagre thing, an altogether rational speculation grounded in a purely human faculty, that by which individual human nature is essentially defined. To say 'human wisdom' is to say 'worldly wisdom', in the sense in which 'world' is used in the Gospels; [6] we could as well say 'profane wisdom', for all these expressions are basically synonymous and indicate clearly that what is involved is not true wisdom but at most only its somewhat ineffectual shadow, one that is all too often 'inverted.' [7] Indeed, most philosophies are not even a shadow of wisdom, however distorted one may imagine this shadow to be; especially where modern philosophies are concerned, from which even the slightest vestiges of the ancient traditional knowledge have entirely disappeared, they are only constructions without a foundation, assemblages of more or less fantastic hypotheses, and finally, mere individual opinions without authority or real importance. In order to conclude we can summarize in a few words our essential thoughts on this point. Properly speaking, philosophy is only 'profane knowledge' and can claim nothing more, whereas symbolism, understood in its true sense, is essentially part of 'sacred science', which could not really exist or make itself known without it, for it would then lack all appropriate means of expression. We are well aware that many, even most, of our contemporaries are unfortunately incapable of distinguishing between these two orders of knowledge (if indeed any profane knowledge really deserves this attribution), but it is, of course, not to them that our words are addressed, for, to repeat, it is solely with 'sacred science' that we intend to occupy ourselves.