Thursday, September 8, 2016

Johann Gottlieb Fichte's Attempt at a Critique of All Revelation

Johann Gottlieb Fichte’s Attempt at a Critique of All Revelation (Versuch einer Kritik aller Offenbarung, 1792), despite its title, is a defense, rather than a critique, of the meaningfulness and validity of the concept of revelation, and is an investigation not of “all revelation” (in the sense of both religious and non-religious revelation), but only of religious revelation (which for Fichte constitutes “all revelation”).
      Fichte describes a theory of volition according to which the will to obey principles of morality may be guided by practical reason. Insofar as the idea of God as moral lawgiver may facilitate determinations of the will, it may also guide us to act according to practical reason. The translation of the idea of God as moral lawgiver into the idea of the moral law in human nature is the principle of religion, insofar as this translation of pure into practical reason may serve as a guide for determinations of the will.1
      Fichte distinguishes between natural and revealed religion by saying that God as moral lawgiver may proclaim Himself to us through natural or supernatural means. Natural (or rational) religion is based on recognition of the natural (or rational) means by which God may proclaim Himself to us as lawgiver, while revealed religion is based on recognition of the supernatural means by which God may proclaim Himself to us as lawgiver. Natural and revealed religion may be combined, and they are mutually compatible.
      Revelation, according to Fichte, is an event or experience by which something is made known to us. Something is revealed to us when it is made known to us. Revelation therefore presupposes two internal conditions: the thing that is made known, and the form in which it is made known. It also presupposes two external conditions: someone who makes something known, and someone to whom that thing is made known. 2
      The possibility of divine revelation also presupposes the existence of God. Fichte therefore asks: how can we know that a given revelation comes from God? How can we know that it is God who has revealed something to us?
       Such questions may be especially important when we try to distinguish revelation from other phenomena, such as fantasy, hallucination, or the delusion of a deranged person who commits some senseless crime or irrational act and then says, “I heard God’s voice talking to me,” or “I had a vision from God,” or “God made me do it.” In contrast to a delusion, which may be described as a fixed, persistent, idiosyncratic, false belief that is resistant to reason, a revelation may be described as a proclamation or communication from God that apparently conforms to reason.
      In order to answer the question of how we can know that a given revelation comes from God, Fichte describes some criteria for the divinity of a revelation (with regard to its form), including (1) any revelation that has proclaimed, maintained, or propagated itself by immoral means cannot be from God,3 (2) only a revelation that proclaims God as moral lawgiver can be truly believed to be from God,4 and (3) any revelation that attempts to move us to act on account of motives other than reverence and respect for God’s holiness cannot be from God.5
      Fichte describes some additional criteria for the divinity of a revelation (with regard to its content), including: (1) a revelation cannot require faith in teachings that cannot be arrived at by reason, (2) a revelation cannot require faith in teachings that are contradictory to reason (indeed, we can convince ourselves of the divinity of a given revelation only if it conforms to reason6), and (3) the divinity of a revelation must be evident not only on grounds of its conformity to reason, but also on other grounds7 (such as its arising from something supernatural in the sensory world).
      Fichte explains that the essential element of (divine) revelation is the proclamation, through a supernatural effect in the sensory world, of God as moral lawgiver.8 Thus, revelation cannot be proven to have any objective validity, and it may not even have subjective validity for all rational individuals.9 A rational acceptance of a particular revelation as divine is possible only on a priori grounds, and this renders problematic any acceptance of a particular revelation as divine on the basis of principles learned from experience.
      Fichte also explains that a priori knowledge of something is demonstrated, rather than revealed, to us.10 We can have a posteriori knowledge of something on the basis of experience, but only a priori knowledge enables us to conclusively prove or objectively demonstrate it.
      A questionable claim made by Fichte is that something can be made known to us only if we do not already know it. Something that we already know cannot be made known to us; only the fact that we already know it can be made known to us. But this claim raises the question: why can’t something be made known to us more than once? Why can’t something that we already know be repeatedly revealed to us? —Perhaps the repeated revelation of a given thing may secure our knowledge or confirm our certainty of that thing,
      Another questionable claim is that whenever something is made known to us, there must be someone other than ourselves who has directly or indirectly made it known to us. But why isn’t it possible for us to reveal things to ourselves? Why can’t we reveal things to ourselves that we weren’t previously aware of? Perhaps in revealing things about ourselves to others, we may reveal to ourselves things about ourselves that we weren’t previously aware of or that we weren’t previously prepared to acknowledge.
      Another questionable claim is that only things that are known a priori are provable or objectively demonstrable. —What about proof by experience or scientific testing?
      The concept of revelation presupposes an empirically given moral need for revelation, explains Fichte. God would not reveal something to us if it were not logically necessary for Him to do so. Every (divine) revelation proclaims God as moral lawgiver, and therefore only those revelations that have this proclamation as their ultimate purpose can be truly believed to be from God.
     Fichte concludes that (divine) revelation is rationally possible, and that a critique of it can only apply the concept of it to a given event or experience and guide us in doing so; that is to say, a critique of (divine) revelation can only determine the conditions under which the application of the concept of revelation to a given event or experience is possible.11 We may therefore be certain of both the possibility of revelation in general and the possibility of a particular manifestation of it by some event or experience that fulfills the proper criteria.


FOOTNOTES

1Johann Gottlieb Fichte, Attempt at a Critique of All Revelation, edited by Allen Wood, translated by Garrett Green (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2010), p. 41.
2Ibid., p. 51.
3Ibid., p. 93.
4Ibid., p. 94.
5Ibid., p. 94.
6Ibid., pp. 100-101.
7Ibid., p. 99.
8Ibid., p. 96.
9Ibid., p. 66.
10Ibid., p. 52.
11Ibid., p. 132.

Sunday, August 21, 2016

The Letter and Spirit of the Law

With regard to the letter and spirit of the law, there may be four kinds of actions: those that obey both the letter and spirit of the law, those that obey the letter but not the spirit of the law, those that obey the spirit but not the letter of the law, and those that obey neither the letter nor the spirit of the law.
      In cases where there is an apparent conflict between the letter and spirit of the law, we may have to determine whether obedience to the letter of the law is more important than obedience to the sprit of the law, or vice versa. We may have to determine whether we can obey the spirit, without strictly obeying the letter of the law, unless we adopt a legalistic interpretation of our moral duty. If we decide to be legalistic in our interpretation of our duty, then obedience to the letter of the law may be more important than obedience to the spirit of the law, whenever obedience to both cannot simultaneously be achieved.
      Since the spirit of the law may be a subject of debate, we may need to employ a variety of interpretive resources in order to precisely determine its nature. Legal hermeneutics may require social, cultural, linguistic, and historical investigation of legal texts. Since some texts may be imprecise, ambiguous, or unclear, they may require interpretation by judges, jurists, or legal scholars. Our interpretation of the spirit of the law may depend on what we perceive as the law’s intended purposes and effects, as well as our own notions of what justice, equity, and fairness require.
      Relativism about the law’s letter and spirit may assert that they are merely a matter of interpretation, and that the law is therefore merely a coercive instrument used by those in power to reinforce their position of social, economic, and political advantage over others.
      Legalism with regard to moral duty may be described as the theory that moral duty is a matter of obedience to the law, and that actions are right or wrong insofar as they obey or disobey the law. It may also be described as the theory that it is always our duty to obey the law, whatever the consequences of the law may be. It may also be described as the theory that our moral duty extends only as far as the law extends.
      According to one possible legalistic interpretation of our moral duty, as long as we obey the law, we cannot be said to have violated our moral duty. We do not have a duty to perform actions that are not legally required. We only have a duty to perform those actions that are legally required, and a duty not to perform those actions that are illegal. We do not have a duty to provide support to those who are helpless or care for those who are suffering, unless we are legally required to do so. We do not have a duty to offer aid to the unfortunate or provide shelter for the homeless, unless we are legally required to do so. We do not have a duty to end armed conflict abroad or relieve world hunger and poverty, unless we are legally required to do so.
      Weaknesses of legalism as a theory of moral duty include the following:
      (1) It may delimit our moral duty to such an extent that we may not be inclined to perform those actions that are not legally required. We may not be inclined to perform generous or unselfish actions if we don't think they're morally obligatory. There may be no laws requiring us to be good Samaritans, and so we may feel we have no duty to extend help to our neighbors when they're in need.
      (2) It may encourage a literalistic interpretation of the law, even when that interpretation isn't suitable for present circumstances and doesn't fulfill the needs of contemporary society. Thus, it may not allow for a situational ethics or moral pragmatism. It may assert that it is always our moral duty to obey the law, no matter how unfair, inequitable, or unjust that law may be.
      (3) It may not recognize that we don't necessarily have a duty to obey unjust laws; we may indeed have a duty to disobey them. Thus, it may not recognize that civil disobedience in some cases may be justified as a means of seeking social justice.
      (4) It may encourage harsh or merciless punishment of those who disobey the law, even when such punishment is unnecessary and serves no useful social purpose.
      (5) It may encourage the attitude that “the law is the law, regardless of whether it makes sense.” Although there may be some laws that are outdated or have unexpected loopholes or unanticipated consequences, it may not recognize that such laws should be changed, and that reform of the legal system is sometimes necessary.
      (6) It may encourage the excessive use of the legal system and adversarial litigation as a means of resolving disputes, rather than promoting the use of less costly, less time-consuming, and less contentious methods of conflict resolution.
      (7) It may attempt to justify acts of legal chicanery or gamesmanship and other morally dubious but legal transactions, on the grounds that even if such actions are morally questionable, they are legal and cannot therefore be criticized for not having fulfilled the principles of moral duty. Thus, for example, legalism may be used as a justification for cheating a person out of their money or property, if such an act can't be legally prosecuted.

Saturday, July 23, 2016

Love and Understanding

Does love require a kind of understanding? Does understanding, at least in some cases, require a kind of love?  Does one of the two acts or capabilities have moral, logical, or epistemic priority over the other?
      Can there be understanding without love, and love without understanding?
      Do we have to understand (or be able to show understanding toward) someone in order to be able to love them? Do we have to love someone in order to be able to understand (or show understanding toward) them?
      Is understanding a ground of love, and love a ground of understanding? Do we have to “love our enemies” in order to understand them?         
      There may be a certain kind of understanding that requires love of whomever or whatever we’re trying to understand. There may also be a certain kind of love that requires or depends on our presumed understanding of whomever or whatever we think we love.
       There may also be a kind of love of things that are beyond our complete understanding.
      Suppose that instead of saying “I believe, so that I may understand” (“Credo ut intelligam,” as Anselm affirmed) or “I seek to understand, so that I may believe” ("Quaero intelligere ut credam,” as he denied), we each were to say, “I love, so that I may understand” or “I seek to understand, so that I may love”? What would then happen to our perceptions of ourselves and one another?
      There may be many kinds of love: parental, filial, marital, brotherly, sisterly, neighborly, romantic, erotic, and sexual. There may also be many kinds of understanding: analytic, synthetic, intellectual, emotional, empathetic, experiential, practical, and theoretical. An “adequate” understanding of someone or something (however that “adequacy” may be defined) may require more than one kind of understanding of that person or thing.
      There may also be various kinds of self-love and self-understanding,
      Can we truly love someone whom we don’t at all understand? Can we truly love someone if we don’t actually know who she is and who we’re actually in love with? Perhaps we can love someone in spite of not always being able to understand them. Perhaps true love requires that we love others unconditionally and without necessarily having to understand all their thoughts, words, and actions.
      It may be argued that love may sometimes be irrational or unexplainable; but can such an act or capacity properly be called “love” (rather than “infatuation” or “obsession”) if it's utterly irrational?
      Mustn’t we be able to think that we have at least some partial or incomplete understanding of whomever or whatever we think we love?
      Don’t we in some cases love someone for the very reason that we understand them, or understand someone for the very reason that we love them? How much of a role may understanding then play in our falling in or out of love? And how much of our love for someone or something may be determined by our own capacity for self-understanding?
      Loving someone may require at least a willingness to try to understand them, even if we don't have the fully developed capacity to do so. The imperfectness of our love may then be revealed, at least in part, by the imperfectness of our understanding of them.
      There may also be degrees of love and understanding. If we love someone enough, perhaps that means we’ll be able to sufficiently understand them.
       Is there a threshold level of love that’s necessary for our understanding of someone? Is there a threshold level of understanding that’s necessary for our love of someone?
      Perhaps we should try more often to determine both the nature of our understanding of love and the nature of our love of understanding. Perhaps we should also try more often to determine whether we’re actually developing a greater understanding of the nature of love or whether we’re merely falling in love with the idea of understanding it.


Sunday, July 17, 2016

Artscape, Baltimore, 2016




















                       Reggie Wayne Morris


                         Scroll Downers

Monday, June 27, 2016

Luis Villoro's The Challenges of the Coming Society

Luis Villoro (1922-2014) was a Mexican philosopher, historian, writer, diplomat and revolutionary who was born in Barcelona, Spain. His father was Spanish, and his mother was Mexican. He arrived in Mexico at the age of 17, and studied at the Facultad de Filosofía y Letras of the Universidad Nacional Autónoma de México (UNAM), where he obtained his master’s degree in philosophy in 1949 and his doctoral degree in 1963. He also did postgraduate study at the Sorbonne in Paris, and at Ludwig Maximilian University of Munich.
      In 1948, Villoro became a member of the Hyperion Group (el grupo Hiperión), a group of young Mexican philosophers who were students of José Gaos (1900-1969) at UNAM, and who were influenced by Gaos to explore phenomenology and existentialism. The Hyperion Group was mostly active from 1948-1952, and included Ricardo Guerra (1927-2007), Jorge Portilla (1918-1963), Emilio Uranga (1921-1988), Salvador Reyes Neváres (1922-1993), Joaquín Sánchez Macgrégor (1925-2008), Fausto Vega (1922-2015), and Leopoldo Zea (1912-2006).
      From 1948, Villoro taught at UNAM, where he was named professor in 1954. From 1971, he was a researcher at the Instituto de Investigaciones Filosofícas. From 1974-1982, he was professor at the Universidad Autónoma Metropolitana (UAM), and from 1972-1982, he was a member of the Board of Governors of UNAM. From 1980-1981, he served as president of the Asociación Filosófica de México, and from 1983-1987, he served as permanent delegate of Mexico to UNESCO in Paris.
      Honors that he received included membership from 1978 onward in The National College (El Colegio Nacional). He also received the National Prize for Arts and Sciences (el Premio Nacional de Ciencias y Artes) in 1986, and the University National Prize (el Premio Universidad Nacional) in 1989. He also received honorary degrees from the Universidad Michoacana de San Nicolás de Hidalgo in 2002 and the Universidad Autónoma Metropolitana (UAM) in 2004.
      In the 1990’s, Villoro secretly joined the EZLN (Ejército Zapatista de Liberación Nacional, Zapatista Army of National Liberation). The Zapatistas were, and are still, a leftist revolutionary group based in the southern state of Chiapas who advocate political and economic autonomy for indigenous peoples. They also oppose economic globalization, and they call for indigenous peoples to have greater control over their land and local natural resources.
      Villoro, who was in his 70’s when he joined the EZLN, adopted “Luis Villoro Toranzo” as his nom de guerre. He wore a black beret, and he acted as a sentinel at EZLN guard posts. He kept his membership in the group hidden from even his wife and children.1 He died in March 2014, at the age of 91, in Mexico City.
      In May 2015, a memorial gathering that was held in Oventic, Chiapas in honor of him and of the late Zapatista leader Galeano drew over 5,000 people. In accordance with his wishes, his family turned over a box containing his ashes to the Zapatistas, so that it could be buried at the foot of a tree in Oventic, Chiapas.
      Villoro’s work as a philosopher centered on such fields as the philosophy of history, political philosophy, social philosophy, ethics, and epistemology. His writings included Los grandes momentos del indigenismo en México (1950), El proceso ideológico de la revolución de independencia (1953), La idea y el ente en la filosofía de Descartes (1965), Estudios sobre Husserl (1975), Creer, saber, conocer (1982), El concepto de ideología y otros ensayos (1985), El poder y el valor: Fundamentos de una ética política (1997), Estado plural, pluralidad de culturas (1998), De la libertad a la comunidad (2001), Los retos de la sociedad por venir (2007), and La significación del silencio y otros ensayos (2008).
      Los Retos de la Sociedad por Venir: Ensayos sobre Justicia, Democracia, y Multiculturalismo (The Challenges of the Coming Society: Essays on Justice, Democracy, and Multiculturalism) is concerned with such questions as: What is the relation between justice and power? How does justice promote the ability to resist oppressive power? How may society ensure that everyone’s basic rights are respected? How can society prevent the social, economic, or political marginalization of particular social, ethnic, or minority groups? What are the implications of tolerance as a principle of transcultural ethics? How is multiculturalism similar to, or different from, cultural relativism? How is a transcultural ethics similar to, or different from, a universal ethics of human rights? How does the unitary, homogeneous nation-state differ from the plural, multicultural nation-state?
      Villoro describes three main challenges for the society of the future: the promotion of justice, the promotion of democracy, and the promotion of interculturality (multiculturalism). Unless these three challenges are met, we will not be able to achieve social consensus and unity in the context of a plurality of conceptions of the common good.
      To understand the meaning of justice, we may start by trying to understand what justice is not (what injustice consists of). Injustice may be a wrongful harm or injury caused by others. It may also be an infringement of basic rights or a restriction of basic human freedoms, due to domination or oppression by those in power.
      In the face of oppressive power, a response may be to take the moral position of non-power (no-poder). The opposite of the person eager for power is not the powerless person, argues Socrates in Plato’s Republic, but the person who refuses to make the will to power his goal. To seek a life not marked by power, but free from all will to power—that is the aim that, in contradiction to Thrasymachus’s argument that “might makes right,” constitutes the life of the good person.2
      Escaping from power is not equivalent to accepting powerlessness, says Villoro. It is resisting powerlessness. It is not allowing oneself to be subjugated and dominated by those in power. To take a position of non-power may also be to confront power with an opposing counter-power (contrapoder). Counter-power may be a resistance to both powerlessness and the pursuit of power.3
      Counter-power may be exercised in a number of ways: as passive resistance, as non-collaboration, as refusal to comply with the norms established by those in power. It may be exercised by a single individual, by a group, or by a whole class of individuals.
      Injustice may take the form of exclusion of certain persons or groups from access to the social, economic, and political goods that are enjoyed by the rest of society. The experience of injustice by the excluded may lead to their dissent from, and opposition to, the viewpoints held by those who have excluded them. The excluded may proclaim to those who have excluded them, “We are subjects worthy of value. That value equalizes us with you. It transcends our differences.”4
      Thus could be described the situation of persons or social groups excluded from a community of communication by not being considered valid interlocutors in any possible dialogue that could lead to rational consensus.5 Villoro explains that the philosopher Enrique Dussel distinguishes an ideal community of communication from a real community in which there are no excluded members and all members can participate in a “community of justice.” In a real community, each member may have the right to situate themselves in a position of exteriority that recognizes their differences from the rest of the community, but also affirms the community as a convergence of free and equal members.6
      Villoro says that the idea of justice, starting with the negative experience of exclusion, does not conceive justice as a definitive, final arrangement, but as a historical process that proceeds through various stages. In each stage, the historical meaning of social justice approaches a state in which exclusions and differences are overcome.7
      Justice therefore demands non-exclusion. In a just society, no one is excluded from participation in equal citizenship. A just society is one that permits and favors “the good life” (however that term may be defined) for all its members, and that makes “the good life” possible for all.
      Villoro describes two models of justice, the “deontological model” and the “teleological model.” According to the deontological model, priority is given to rules that are universally valid, and actions are just if they fulfill the rules or norms that govern them. According to the teleological model, priority is given to rules that are valid for the particular situation that individuals are confronted with, and actions are just if they fulfill a worthwhile end or they result in something good.  
      According to Villoro, the way to arrive at knowledge of the content of justice differs in the two models. In both models, justice cannot have subjective validity for an individual without representing their own self-interest. Justice is seen as a general rule or objective value that is valid for every individual. But how can we attain knowledge of this general rule or objective value? If the measure of objective value is the universalizable character of the rule—as in the first model—then the way to attain knowledge of the content of justice will be the universal acceptance, by all individuals, of that rule.8 If, on the other hand, the measure of validity of the rule is the goodas in the second modelthen the way to arrive at knowledge of the content of justice will be recognition of the aims or ends that individuals actually pursue. Objective value will be seen in whatever is beneficial to, or is regarded as good by, all individuals in a socially determined whole. To know the just, we must therefore be able to determine what is good for all individuals in the context of their relations with one another.  Knowledge of the common good will not be derived from intersubjective consensus, but from discovery of the ends and values that unify society.9
      Villoro explains that the two models of justice are complementary, but that their difference is expressed as four antinomies: (1) the antinomy of the subject, (2) the antinomy of normative order, (3) the antinomy of the type of association, and (4) the antinomy of duty and ends.
      The antinomy of the subject is that, according to the deontological model, the moral subject is seen as an abstract subject who is not situated in a particular social context, and who is capable of impartial, universalizable judgments. According to the teleological model, however, the moral subject is seen as a concrete subject who is situated in a particular social context, and who acts to fulfill their own conception of the good.
      The antinomy of normative order is that, according to the deontological model, the rationality of universalizable norms as opposed to socially accepted modes of behavior may justify projects of change or reform of the existing social or political order. On the other hand, maintenance of existing norms may be favored over the claims of specific groups who have suffered from social inequality. According to the teleological model, however, projects of change or reform must be adequate to present circumstances, and they must respond to the distinct realities that constitute society. The durability of a just social order may depend as much on recognition of the specific needs of each social group as on continuation of existing political structures.10
      The antinomy of association is that, according to the individualistic conception of justice, corresponding to the deontological model, society is a means of realizing the aims of the individual. Political society fulfills this purpose by guaranteeing basic rights. The public space offers scope for the actualization of individual liberties. It is therefore a place of competition between individuals and groups. This competition must take place within the framework of tolerance and respect for basic rights, which permits cooperation for mutual benefit.11 According to the communitarian conception of justice, corresponding to the teleological model, however, the aims of the individual are realized within a community. The proper aims of the individual include the pursuit of the common good. Competition between individuals must be replaced by pursuit of the good of the whole community.12
      The antinomy of duty and ends is that, according to the deontological model, the morally right is given priority over the morally good. The universality of moral norms is given priority over the plurality of conceptions of the good. According to the teleological model, however, the idea of justice cannot be separated from the idea of the good. The fulfillment of individual rights cannot be separated from the fulfillment of the good of society as a whole.
      Villoro explains how each of these antinomies may be overcome. One strategy may be to consider how the idea of justice can change over the course of time. Another strategy may be to consider how we can respond to the negation or denial of justice, injustice.
      Thus, the antinomy of the subject, which reflects the difference between the abstract, universalizable subject and the concrete, situated subject, may be overcome by the situated subject who acts on the basis of universalizable principles to oppose injustice.
      The antinomy of normative order, which reflects the difference between universalizable norms and socially specific norms of behavior, may be overcome by the situated subject who responds to their own concrete situation by acting according to universalizable principles that they have abstracted from that situation.
      The antinomy of association, which reflects the difference between individualist and collectivist approaches to justice, may be overcome by the coexistence of individualist and collectivist principles in society, and by the freedom of individuals to pursue their own interests as well as the interests of society as a whole.
      The antinomy of duty and ends, which reflects the difference between the morally right and the morally good, may be overcome when the universality of a moral rule is seen as having a specific cultural and historical context. The universality of the moral rule is therefore seen as only one of a plurality of social, cultural, and historical conceptions of the good.
      Villoro describes the political right and the political left as moral postures or moral attitudes toward democracy, but he confines himself to discussing the political left. “¿Qué es la izquierda?” (“What is the left?”) he asks. His answer (my translation) is that the left

is not a system of beliefs or an ideology, but a collective attitude against domination…The disruptive attitude cannot be translated into collective action if it is not motivated by the interests of those who suffer under the domination of the system…However…in a complex society, the groups who suffer domination are various, and their interests may be dissimilar…A system of domination creates many diverse groups that have their own interests. The counter-power (contrapoder) facing this system must express the interests of all in their diversity. The actual left cannot be less than a multiple, heterogeneous movement. There is not a class or privileged sector of dissidence. There is no revolutionary vanguard. A dissident program cannot be reduced to a class ideology…All dominated groups share, in distinct ways, a common interest: to rightly liberate themselves from domination. They can therefore unify their voices in the same counter-power. This will be the task of a movement of the left.”13

      Principles of intercultural ethics, explains Villoro, include mutual tolerance, respect for cultural autonomy, respect for cultural authenticity, respect for cultural valuative rationality, and respect for cultural efficacy. Any system of intercultural ethics must also recognize that each culture is unique and not replaceable by others. It must recognize and appreciate the multiplicity and diversity of cultures.
      Tolerance, says Villoro, does not consist merely in accepting coexistence with other cultures and not interfering with them. Rather, it implies concern with the fortune (suerte) and destiny of other cultures, concern with sharing their aims and understanding their values, and concern with assisting them to satisfy their basic needs. It implies reciprocity.14
      Respect for cultural autonomy may be expressed as non-interference with, and non-domination of, other cultures.
      Respect for cultural authenticity may take the form of recognition of the true, as opposed to the misperceived or misappropriated, aspects of other cultures, as well as respect for the integrity of the customs, traditions, and value systems of other cultures.
      Respect for cultural valuative rationality may be expressed as recognition of the extent to which (or the efficacy with which) other cultures are able to integrate their proposed aims and preferred values into the lives of their members.
      Respect for cultural efficacy may be expressed as recognition of the capacity for other cultures to fulfill their roles and functions.
      Villoro argues that the aim of a participatory democracy in a pluralistic society should be the transition from a single, homogeneous state to a plural, heterogeneous state that respects its own internal diversity.15 More than tolerance is necessary to maintain the unity of the plural state. Cooperation is also necessary.16
      The traditional conception of the nation-state responds to the question of how to establish unity in a society in which there are varying conceptions of the common good by saying that unity is achieved by imposing a single historical conception of the common good on all members of society. Multiculturalist conceptions, however, provide a different response: unity is achieved by reciprocal recognition of social and cultural differences, and by acceptance of the plurality of existing conceptions of the common good. Unity results from freely made accords between various social and cultural groups who have different viewpoints.17
      Villoro explains that according to cultural relativism, the validity of a particular culture’s traditions depends on the viewpoint of the observer, and the traditions of any culture may be considered to be as valid as those of any other culture. Thus, cultural relativism calls into question the claim of any culture to be universal and to represent a model for all other cultures. Absolute relativism, however, holds that all cultural traditions are equally valid, no matter how oppressive or dominating they may be in relation to the traditions of other cultures. Absolute relativism is therefore incompatible with multiculturalism, since multiculturalism is opposed to any form of cultural oppression or domination.


FOOTNOTES

1Ángeles Mariscal, “Philosopher-Historian Luis Villoro was Secret Zapatista Sentinel,” translated by Jane Brundage, CNN Mexico, May 3, 2015, translated May 7, 2015, at https://dorsetchiapassolidarity.wordpress.com/2015/07/07/philosopher-historian-luis-villoro-was-secret-zapatista-sentinel/.
2Luis Villoro, Los Retos de la Sociedad por Venir: Ensayos sobre Justicia, Democracia, y Multiculturalismo (México: Fondo de Cultura Económica, 2007), p. 18.
3Ibid., p. 18.
4Ibid., p. 24.
5Ibid., p. 26.
6Ibid., p. 27.
7Ibid., p. 35.
8Ibid., p. 48.
9Ibid., p. 49.
10Ibid., pp. 92-93.
11Ibid., pp. 94-95.
12Ibid., p. 95.
13Ibid., pp. 132-134.
14Ibid., p. 149.
15Ibid., p. 183.
16Ibid., p. 184.
17Ibid., pp. 198-199.