題目： 哲學史上的兩個惡名昭彰的沈默 （The two infamous silences in the history of philosophy）
The silence of philosophers like Badiou on Mao’s legacy, or Heidegger on the Nazis, reveals a troubling tension in the relationship between intellectual commitment and moral responsibility. These “heartless mistakes,” as they appear, often stem from a deep investment in certain ideals or systems of thought that blinds them to the catastrophic consequences these ideologies can produce in practice.
For Badiou, Mao represents a model of revolutionary fervor and political possibility that aligns with his philosophical ideals of rupture, event, and fidelity to truth. His commitment to these concepts seems to have created a lens through which he views historical events, prioritizing the revolutionary potential over the human cost. Badiou’s focus on the transformative possibilities of Mao’s actions likely led him to abstract from, or ignore, the suffering caused under Maoist policies. This selective blindness reflects a kind of philosophical purity — an attachment to an idealized concept of revolution that overrides the real-world atrocities associated with it. In his commitment to “events” that break with the status quo, Badiou seems to find it difficult to grapple with the moral responsibility for the human lives lost in the pursuit of these ideals.
Similarly, Heidegger’s relationship with Nazism reveals the dangers of conflating abstract philosophical visions with political reality. Heidegger was drawn to the Nazi movement not merely for its nationalism but because he saw in it the possibility of a radical historical transformation — a rejection of modern technological alienation and a return to a more “authentic” existence. His silence on the atrocities of the Nazi regime reflects his prioritization of this philosophical vision over the moral reality of the regime’s actions. Heidegger’s attachment to his vision of “Being” and historical destiny led him to disregard, or perhaps downplay, the horrifying acts that accompanied this so-called historical transformation.
These heartless mistakes arise, in part, from a kind of philosophical hubris — a belief that their concepts are so profound and universal that they transcend the moral constraints that govern ordinary political judgment. This can lead to a dangerous abstraction, where suffering and violence are seen as incidental or even necessary components of achieving an ideal. Both Badiou and Heidegger seem to have fallen into this trap, allowing their intellectual commitments to blind them to the horrors unfolding under the very regimes they were drawn to.
At their worst, these mistakes remind us that brilliant minds are not immune to ideological blindness, especially when they are captivated by grand ideas of transformation and rupture. They suggest that a philosophy divorced from empathy and ethical accountability can easily slide into complicity with the worst forms of political violence. Such examples underscore the necessity of grounding philosophical and political ideals in a commitment to human dignity and compassion, lest the pursuit of abstract ideals lead to devastating consequences in reality.
