For good or ill, Eric Voegelin is probably best known, especially
among many who have not actually read him, for his denunciations
of something called “gnosticism.””1 Even some who have read
him but remain skeptical about the value of his thought associate him
with a virtually monomaniacal anti-gnostic polemic. Thomas J. J.
Altizer, for example, said (with an exaggeration that illustrates my
point) that “”Professor Voegelin finds everything to be Gnostic.””2
On various occasions I have suggested that it is time to rethink
what it was Voegelin meant by this term and perhaps to find other
language for it that would be less polemical, more precise, and more
in line with current historical scholarship. I would like to take this
occasion to explain in more detail why I think the term “”gnosticism””
has become inappropriate for the analysis of the phenomena Voegelin
was trying to elucidate. To do so, I will take up the problems of the
term or analytic category itself, considered in the light of developments
in historical scholarship that have taken place since the days
when Voegelin began to use it, and I will also discuss what in his own
thought Voegelin was trying to use this analytic category to illuminate.
This will lead in turn to a consideration of the word’s ambiguity
and occasional tendentiousness in Voegelin’s use, its tenuousness as
a historical explanation of later movements, and the ways in which
the use of a single term tended to obscure the variety of problems
Voegelin was trying to address.
Of course I am not alone in raising some of these questions.
Stephen A. McKnight has probably done more than any other
scholar to show that the pattern of thought and symbolism known as
hermeticism, which Voegelin and many others once lumped together
with other phenomena under the single heading of gnosticism,
is actually very different from what that word has usually been
used to mean.3 Michael Franz, in his Eric Voegelin and the Politics
of Spiritual Revolt: The Roots of Modern Ideology has written
extensively on the some of the problems Voegelin used the idea of
“”gnosticism”” to analyze and has suggested the term
“”pneumopathological consciousness”” to replace it.4 This is probably
a pretty good term for the meaning Franz focuses on, but I will be
less concerned with finding new terms than with clarifying the
variety of issues that make it clear that new language is called for.
I think there is good reason to believe that if Voegelin were still
alive and carrying on his research today, he would himself be actively
looking for new ways to talk about the issues at the intersection of
spirituality, politics, and the culture of modernity he once used the
term “”gnosticism”” to refer to. For one thing, he said at a conference
on “”Gnosticism and Modernity”” at Vanderbilt University in 1978
that he would probably not use that term if he were starting over
again because, besides what then went by that name, the ideas he
was interested in using it to address included many other strands,
such as apocalypticism, alchemy, magic, theurgy, and scientism.5
And for another, in his conversations with me when I was working
on my book on him in the late 1970s, he often spoke of the great
advances being made in historical scholarship and the importance of
integrating them into his work. He spoke disdainfully of much of the
current intellectual scene of that time, but for the work of historical
scholarship he had great respect. In particular, I remember how
when I urged him to publish more of the voluminous manuscript on
the history of political thought which he had abandoned when he
shifted his focus, in Order and History, to the history of experience
and its symbolizations, he protested that to publish any part of it he
would have to study the historical research that had since been done
on the subject and bring his discussion up to date.
If anything, the state of historical scholarship since the 1970s on
the ancient phenomena known collectively as gnosticism has probably
progressed farther and changed more radically than it has
regarding any of the topics and periods Voegelin took up in the
earlier manuscript. He was aware in 1978 that much was happening
in that area of scholarship, but I think even then he had no idea how
radically the picture was going to change in the next few decades.
According to Geoffrey L. Price, in April of 1962 when Voegelin was
invited by the Senate and Academic Council of the University of
London to give the lecture, “”Ancient Gnosis and Modern Politics,””
he wrote them, “”The finding of the Gnostic Library in 1945 has made
it possible to formulate theoretically the problem of Gnosis with
result of [sic] interesting parallels in modern political theory since
Hobbes.””6 Evidently he thought the discovery of actual “”Gnostic””
texts would confirm and augment what he had been using the term
to say. But in fact in 1962 hardly any of that material had yet been
edited and translated, and the bulk of it was not generally available
until 1977 with the publication of The Nag Hammadi Library in
English,7 so Voegelin himself had probably seen little of the actual
texts except the Gospel According to Thomas, which had been
published, with a great deal of publicity, in 19598 but which had little
bearing on any of the topics Voegelin had been concerned with in his
own use of the term.9
Voegelin’s understanding of ancient Gnosticism was based
mainly on his reading of volume I of Hans Jonas’s Gnosis und
Spätantiker Geist, published in 1934,10 which was largely reproduced
in Jonas’s later The Gnostic Religion (1958), though in his
New Science of Politics Voegelin also refers to works by Eugène de
Faye (1925), Simone PĂŠtrement (1947), and Hans SĂśderberg (1949),
with the comment, “”The exploration of gnosis is so rapidly advancing
that only a study of the principal works of the last generation will
mediate an understanding of its dimensions.””11
Well, the picture has changed enormously since the generation
Voegelin was referring to in those lectures of 1951, and it has
changed even more since the Gnosticism and Modernity conference
in 1978 and Voegelin’s own death in 1985. Let me try to
sketch some of these changes, beginning with a brief account of
Jonas’s conception of Gnosticism and then the new pictureâif it
can even really be called that, since what has happened primarily
is more the breakdown of the old picture of something that was
called Gnosticism than the development of a unified new one.
Describing in 1957 his motivation in writing Gnosis und
Spätantiker Geist, Jonas said that the generation investigating
Gnosticism before him had bequeathed a “”wealth of historical
detail”” but at the cost of an “”atomization of the subject into motifs
from separate traditions.””12 He felt himself, however, that beneath
all the fragments he could discern an essence: “”That there was such
a gnostic spirit, and therefore an essence of Gnosticism as a whole,
was the impression which struck me at my initial encounter with the
evidence, and it deepened with increasing intimacy. To explore and
interpret that essence became a matter, not only of historical
interest, as it substantially adds to our understanding of a crucial
period of Western mankind, but also of intrinsic philosophical
interest, as it brings us face to face with one of the more radical
answers of man to his predicament and with the insights which only
that radical position could bring forth, and thereby adds to our
human understanding in general.”” In that earlier work (though not
in The Gnostic Religion) Jonas also tried to extract from that essence
“”a metamorphized âgnostic principle'”” which he applied to an
analysis of later thinkers such as Origen and Plotinusâoffering a
model for Voegelin’s later effort to do the same with respect to
modern movements such as Fascism and Communism and what he
considered their medieval and early modern antecedents, such as
the utopian movements stemming from Giaccomo da Fiore and the
radical wing of the Reformation.13
What was the essence of Gnosticism that Jonas thought he
discerned? Gnosticism, he said, was born in the aftermath of
Alexander the Great’s opening up of the eastern and western worlds
to exchange of symbols and worldviews. Out of this came a syncretism
into which were drawn traditional dualism, astrological fatalism,
and traditional monotheism “”yet with such a peculiarly new
twist to them that in the present setting they subserved the representation
of a novel spiritual principle””âi.e., the “”gnostic principle.””14
At the core of this is a complex radical dualism:
The cardinal feature of gnostic thought is the radical dualism that
governs the relation of God and world, and correspondingly that
of man and world. The deity is absolutely transmundane, its
nature alien to that of the universe, which it neither created nor
governs and to which it is the complete antithesis: to the divine
realm of light, self-contained and remote, the cosmos is opposed
as the realm of darkness. The world is the work of lowly powers
which though they may mediately be descended from Him do not
know the true God and obstruct the knowledge of Him in the
cosmos over which they rule.””15
These “”lowly powers”” are the Archons (or, if there is only one,
the Demiurge); they “”collectively rule over the world, and each
individually in his sphere is a warder of the cosmic prison,”” trying to
keep humans from winning freedom to return to their true life
beyond the cosmos: “”Their tyrannical world-rule is called
heimarmenei, universal Fate, a concept taken over from astrology
but now tinged with the gnostic anti-cosmic spirit.””16
These ideas are coupled in Gnosticism, for Jonas, with the idea
that salvation is to be attained through some form of special revelatory
knowledge, gnosis. This is not knowledge in the rational sense,
but has to do with matters that are inherently existential and in
principle unknowable to rational inquiry. “”The ultimate âobject’ of
gnosis is God,”” says Jonas, and “”its event in the soul transforms the
knower himself by making him a partaker in the divine existence….””
17 Gnosis has the power to liberate the pneuma within the
human individual, a divine element distinct from the human body
and soul, which have been created by the Archons in order to keep
the pneuma imprisoned in the cosmos. The moral law, in Jonas’s
construction of Gnosticism, is just one more product of the Archons
designed to keep humans in ignorance and thereby hold them
captive. There have been both ascetic and libertine versions of
Gnosticism, says Jonas, but the libertine is the form in which the
essence of Gnosticism is more clearly expressed, because it “”exhibits
more forcefully than the ascetic version the nihilistic element
contained in gnostic acosmism.””18
#page#
Here we get to the bottom line of Jonas’s account of “”Gnosticism””:
it is an anti-cosmic nihilism that despairs of the possibility that
life in this world could be good under any circumstances.19 It is,
therefore, a movement of spiritual revolt against the conditions of
reality under which human beings necessarily live. That is the
“”essence of Gnosticism”” that Jonas intuited and looked for evidence
of in the fragmentary materials assembled by the historians and
philologists of the early twentieth century. He recognized himself
how large was the role of intuition in his methodology, but defended
it: “”…this system has to be elicited as such from the mass of disparate
materials, which yield it only under proper questioning, that is, to an
interpretation already guided by an anticipatory knowledge of the
underlying unity. A certain circularity in the proof thus obtained
cannot be denied, nor can the subjective element involved in the
intuitive anticipation of the goal toward which the interpretation is
to move.””20 Jonas trusted the guess with which he started, and he was
rewarded by the widespread acceptance won by his very vivid
portrait of a purported ancient religion. (I remember being told in
the mid-1980s by one prominent figure in the field of religious
studies that Jonas’s was still his favorite Gnosticism despite what
more recent scholars had uncovered in the confusing mix of material
unearthed at Nag Hammadi.)
But as I said, Voegelin believed in scholarship, and if he were
here now I am confident he would want to be open to even a radical
revision both of Jonas’s Gnosticism and his own. Of course the
change in our current knowledge of the ancient movements that
have gone by the name of Gnosticism would not in itself necessarily
invalidate the analytic category Voegelin constructed on the basis of
an earlier generation’s ideas of them, since the purpose of Voegelin’s
category was not primarily to describe ancient phenomena but to
help us understand some modern ones for which the evidence is a
great deal clearer. Even so, I think the category is of limited
usefulness for the purpose to which he put it, as I will explain, and the
fact that the idea of gnosticism as such has become so problematic and
complex in recent years must at the very least undercut Voegelin’s
effort to trace a historical line of descent from ancient sources to the
modern phenomena he tried to use them to illuminate.
How has the idea of gnosticism become problematic now? To
begin with, we have to recognize something that Voegelin himself
would have recognized as a major issue: that the whole idea of there
being a Gnosticism, conceived as a movement with some kind of
coherent core of beliefs is a modern construction. I remember
hearing Voegelin say once at a lecture in 1976, when someone in the
audience asked if he were an existentialist, “”I am not an -ismist.””21 He
went on to explain that the various models of thought known by
names ending in “”-ism”” are mostly products of the eighteenth
century, when there was a fashion for interpreting all sorts of
patterns of thought or spirituality as though they were “”philosophies,””
in the Enlightenment conception of what that meant. Well,
Gnosticism was itself exactly such a modern construction. As Michael
Williams points out in his important Rethinking “”Gnosticism””: An
Argument for Dismantling a Dubious Category, “”The term âgnosticism’
seems to have originated in the eighteenth century. On the
other hand, the words âgnosis’ and âgnostic’ are Greek terms that are
actually found in some of the ancient sources…. However, when
used for the modern category âGnosticism,’ âGnosis,’ or âthe Gnostic
religion,’ none of these terms has an ancient equivalent. Antiquity
quite literally had no word for the persons who are the subject of the
present studyâthat is, no single word. The category is a modern
construction.””22 Similarly, another prominent contemporary scholar
in this field, Kurt Rudolph, has called the word “”gnosticism”” “”a
modern, deprecatory expression, a theologizing neologism.””23
A further problem is that it is difficult to find evidence of anyone
fitting the designation as commonly used actually using the word to
describe himself. Says Williams, “”… we apparently do not have direct
evidence of a single so-called gnostic writer using the self-designation
gnostikos!””24 Until the Nag Hammadi discovery in 1945 what we
knew about people called “”gnostics”” was from Christian heresiologists.
It was generally assumed that there were people who used that name
with regard to themselves, even if there were no actual examples, but
the discovery of the Nag Hammadi documents makes it seem less
likely than ever. Now we have actual texts of a type that we had only
heard about before at second hand, and though these exhibit many
of the characteristic ideas traditionally associated with what has been
called gnosticism on the basis of the denunciations of the
heresiologists, these texts too offer not even a single instance of the
word “”gnostic”” used as a self-designation. According to Williams,
“”Numerous other self-designations do appear in these writings,
including Christians, pneumatics, seed, elect, race of Seth, race of
the Perfect Human, immovable race…but not gnostikos.””25 Oddly
enough, the only really well attested use of the term as a selfdesignation
is found in the writings of Clement of Alexandria, who
wrote about the ideal Christian gnostikos, by which he seems to have
meant something like what today we might call a “”Christian intellectual,””
not what we would now call a “”gnostic.””
This introduces another problem: it is only by being selective
about examples (such as leaving out Clement) that one was able, in
the manner of Jonas, to put together a picture of a clear cut pattern
of thinking represented by all the examples in the selection. In other
words, the term seems to have been broad and vague even in the use
of Christian heresiologists. The most influential of these has been
Irenaeus of Lyons, who composed his five-volume “”Exposure and
Refutation of Knowledge [gnosis] Falsely So Called”” around 180
AD. Irenaeus’s work may have been partially based on an earlier one
by Justin Martyr in the mid-second century, but no copies of this
have survived, and subsequent Christian heresiologists took Irenaeus’s
catalogue as their starting point and even copied some of his
descriptions. The principal heresiologists after Irenaeus were
Hippolytus of Rome in the early third century and Epiphanius of
Salamis in the late fourth century, but neither of these used the term
“”gnostic”” as broadly as did Irenaeus and did not categorize as
gnostics many of the figures or groups that Irenaeus had designated
by that word. Another heresiologist, Pseudo-Tertullian (perhaps
mid-third century) does not use the term “”gnostic”” at all. The
modern use, on the other hand, generally encompasses under
“”gnostics”” almost all of those so categorized by Irenaeus: the
Valentinians (Valentinus, Ptolemy, Secundus, and Marcus), Simon
of Samaria, Menander, Satornil, Basilides, Carpocrates, Marcellina,
Cerinthus, the Nicolaitans, Cerdo, Barbelo-Gnostics, Ophites, and
Cainites. The exceptions, included by Irenaeus but left out of most
modern lists, are the Ebionites, Marcion, and the Encratites,
including Tatian, although Jonas does count Marcion as a gnostic on
the basis of the distinction he made between the God revealed in the
New Testament and that represented in the Old.26 Jonas, very
influentially, interpreted Irenaeus, on the basis of his title, as
intending to categorize as “”gnostic”” every heretic he even mentioned
in his work. Williams, on the other hand, points out the fallacy in this:
Although Irenaeus’s catalog has served as the ultimate inspiration
for the modern construction of “”gnosticism”” as a category, it was
not itself really constructed for the purpose of grouping together
examples of religious thought and practice on the basis of phenomenological
similarity. Rather what all the items on Irenaeus’s
list share in common is deficiency (in his judgment) with respect
to Truth. 27
Williams goes on to offer a methodological critique that, although
he is not aiming directly at Jonas, describes perfectly how
Jonas came up with the essence he intuited:
This is not to deny that there are phenomenological similarities
among some of the data cataloged by Irenaeus. It is only to
emphasize how little we should depend on his catalog itself to do
the grouping for us. That is, our methodological approach should
not be to attempt to determine what “”gnosticism is”” by beginning
with Irenaeus’s catalog, or a large portion of it, and from
this abstracting “”gnosticism””‘s characteristic features. For
Irenaeus is not really trying to show us what “”gnosticism”” is, but
what heresy is.
Williams’s bottom line is that as Irenaeus used the term “”gnostic,”” it
seems to have been mainly a catch-all term for heresy in general.
But what about the word’s utility as a term for patterns of thought
that might have enough phenomenological similarity to be worth
finding some common term for? Can enough of that similarity be
found among the usual suspects? Unfortunately, as Williams goes on
to show in the remainder of his book, that is not the caseâor at least
what can be found in common among these figures is not something
that accords very closely with the set of characteristics Jonas intuited
and so many later users of the term have accepted from him: a spirit
of anti-cosmic revolt stemming from radical dualism and fatalism
with respect to the tyrannical world-rule of Archons or Demiurges.
Looking more closely at the texts from Nag Hammadi that show how
some of the groups Irenaeus talked about, and others commonly
classified as gnostic, really thought, Williams points out that there is
actually a lot of diversity among Demiurges and dualismsâmore
than there is any point in trying to detail here.
Let me simply summarize Williams’s findings briefly. Some
texts trace a dualism back to the roots of all being, before Demiurges.
Some describe Demiurges who are evil from the start and produce
all later evil, although no information is given about whether or not
they themselves derive from evil principles. Some talk about
Demiurges who fell away from an original monistic perfection or
who began as good but later revolted. Some demiurgic myths are not
anti-cosmic but treat the cosmos as having a proper place in the
greater scheme. In some, the devolution of the Demiurges is part of
a providential divine plan aimed at an ultimate good. Some talk
about Demiurges who are not evil but good, or who grow into
goodness. Some express hostility to the body, while others talk about
the perfection of the human and speak favorably of the body. Some
urge asceticism, and some are not ascetic, though Williams says
there is no solid evidence for the libertinism Irenaeus attributed to
some Gnostic groups. Although some texts do speak of some
individuals as members of a spiritual race (“”pneumatics””), there is no
solid evidence that their authors really thought in terms of a
deterministic elitism in which the pneumatics were predestined for
salvation without the need for any striving and achievement; in fact,
some even talk as though the potential to belong to the spiritual race
is universal and open to development in everyone.
Williams’s own conclusion regarding what these patterns of
thought have in common is simply that they all tend to draw on
Biblical imagery in some manner and that they all involve the idea
that between what is really ultimate and us in our ordinary experience
there is some higher but not ultimate level of beings who have
played some role in shaping the cosmosâhence his suggestion that
the term “”gnostic”” would be better dropped in favor of “”Biblical
demiurgical.””28 But this would not, for Williams, be a more precise
definition of what was previously called gnosticism; it would be a
whole new category:
Biblical demiurgical myth would not be just another name for
“”gnosticism”” because the intent of the new category would be
precisely to cut free from baggage surrounding the old one. While
it would be grouping most of the same myths together for study
and comparison, it would not make the series of mistakes I have
tried to argue in this study have been made with the category
“”gnosticism.”” The definition of the category “”biblical demiurgical””
says nothing in itself about “”anticosmism,”” and assumes nothing,
and therefore it allows for the range of attitudes about the cosmos
and its creator(s) that are actually attested in the works. 29
So at the very least, the word “”gnosticism”” as used in the larger
scholarly world has become highly problematic with regard to both
its meaning and its usefulness as a description of the phenomenon
called by that name in the history of religionsâall of which lends
support to Michael Franz’s suggestion that “”one can do much more
in the way of corroborating Voegelin’s basic thesis if the analysis is
conducted at the level of patterns in consciousness than at the level
of specific traditions and movements in history.””30
Another problem with the word “”gnosticism”” should also be
clear by now: all the evidence we have suggests the term has been
deprecatory and inherently polemical from its earliest use. As noted
above, for Irenaeus, the source of most later use of the term, it seems
to have been virtually equivalent to “”heretical”” or simply “”false.””
Voegelin’s own use of the words “”gnostic”” and “”gnosticism”” was also
polemical, and I have suggested on earlier occasions that those who
wish to carry forward the valuable heritage of thought Voegelin has
left us might do well to consider seriously the question of how much
the polemical style that was an accident of Voegelin’s particular anti-
Nazi and Cold War milieu still remains really useful.31 As I said at the
international conference convened in Summer 1994 by the Voegelin
Centre of the University of Manchester, “”If Voegelin is going to
speak to the post-1989 world, which is torn less by universalist
ideologies than by ethnic, religious, and nationalist particularisms,
it will not be through his opposition to ideologies that have already
lost most of their force but through his contributions to a positive
conception of human universality.””32
To explore what bearing Voegelin’s critique of what he called
“”gnosticism”” may have on the fundamental issues of human universality,
I would like to turn now to the variety of ways he talked about
gnosticism in his writings over the years, sometimes with a political
emphasis, sometimes with a philosophical one. It was when his focus
was on the political that Voegelin tended to be most polemicalâ
understandably, since some of the political phenomena that aroused
him (Nazism and Soviet communism, in both their domestic and
their imperial modes) really did deserve strong opposition, and the
fact that they were abetted in European and American societies by
people who refused to recognize their combination of folly and
barbarism was all the more exacerbating to him. But underlying the
rhetoric of political polemic there was always a serious philosophical
foundation, which was an expression of profound existential and
spiritual reflections. It is these reflections and that foundation that
are the heart of Voegelin’s thought, and it is because I hope they will
not be lost in a general dismissal of his thought as outdated or
“”conservative”” 33 that I raise the question of whether the language of
a critique of “”gnosticism”” is really the most appropriate and effective
for communicating what is really important in what Voegelin was
trying to say.
#page#
Just to consider briefly Voegelin’s use of the idea of “”gnosticism””
in his more political writings, we might consider first the way he
develops it in what are probably the two most polemical of his books,
The New Science of Politics and Science, Politics, and Gnosticism.
In the latter he gives us a summary of what he says are the six
characteristic features of gnosticism. These stated very concisely are:
- dissatisfaction with one’s situation;
- belief that the reason the situation is unsatisfactory is that the
world is intrinsically poorly organized; - salvation from the evil of the world is possible
- if the order of being is changed,
- and this is possible in history
- if one knows how. (Gnosis is the knowledge about how.)34
Reading along through the six, they seem to flow logically
enough that some readers may not have noticed how they elide from
what in Voegelin’s own day was a standard, recognizable description
of something quite different. The first three characteristics are in
line with Jonas’s idea of the essence of ancient Gnosticism. The
fourth begins to introduce an idea from Voegelin’s own system of
thought, and the fifth and sixth depart from the standard use entirely
in their emphasis on salvation within history through changes one is
able to bring about in the world, whereas Jonas’s gnostics despaired
of the world and its history and looked for salvation elsewhere. This
would be less of a problem if Voegelin were simply trying to extend
the meaning he found in Jonas, but by placing his emphasis on
intramundane salvation through human action and reinterpreting
gnosis as knowledge of how to perform that action he does not just
extend it, but transforms it.
Then a few pages later, Voegelin puts the seal on this transformation
by saying, “”All gnostic movements are involved in the project
of abolishing the constitution of being, with its origin in divine,
transcendent being, and replacing it with a world-immanent order
of being, the perfection of which lies in the realm of human action.””35
He does not say “”all modern”” or “”all immanentist”” gnostic movements,
but simply “”all gnostic movements.”” Nor does he intend it
only to refer to modern movements, since where he says this he has
just been talking about the twelfth century Christian figure, Joachim
of Fiore, whom he also describes in The New Science of Politics as
a “”Gnostic prophet.””36
There has already been a certain amount of controversy over
whether Voegelin can legitimately trace a line of descent from
ancient gnosticism through Joachim and his symbolism of the Third
Kingdom of the Spirit to Thomas MĂźnzer in the radical Reformation
and thence to Karl Marx. In The New Science Voegelin asserts direct
continuity between Joachim and ancient gnostics, but he offers no
evidence: “”The economy of this lecture does not allow a description
to the gnosis of antiquity or of the history of its transmission into the
Western Middle Ages; enough to say that at the time gnosis was a
living religious culture on which men could fall back.””37 In reality, he
had no concrete evidence to offer, although I am sure he thought
there must be some (just as he expected the Nag Hammadi documents
would justify his use of the word). I think that Voegelin is right
that the Third Kingdom symbolism deriving from Joachim has been
enormously influential on the medieval and modern imagination,38
but my point here is only that Voegelin begins with a definition of
gnosticism that seems to be grounded historically in the ancient
figures condemned as heretics by Irenaeus and taken as expressions
of an essence by Jonas, and then he elides from that to later
phenomena with a meaning that reverses what for Jonas and many
others had been the key element in the mix: the rejection of this
world in favor of something radically transcendent.
Voegelin departed still further from the standard model of
thinking about gnosticism when he expanded his conception of it to
include intellectual, emotional, and volitional varieties. These consist
of “”speculative penetrations of the mystery of creation and
existence”” (the intellectual variety), enthusiasm (the emotional
variety), and “”activist redemption of man and society, as in the
instance of revolutionary activists like Comte, Marx, or Hitler”” (the
volitional variety).39 It was the enormous breadth of this expansion
that made it possible for him to make such a statement as, “”By gnostic
movements we mean such movements as progressivism, positivism,
Marxism, psychoanalysis, communism, fascism, and national socialism.””
40 One can see where Altizer got his caricature of Voegelin as
someone “”who finds everything to be gnostic.”” A term this broad,
this dubious (with regard to actual historical continuity), and this
polemical is hardly well suited to the more serious philosophical
issues and universal human challenges he also tried to use it to
address.
What were those? Let us start with a consideration of what he
thought were the basic issues involved in the birth of the ancient
movement. He said in The Ecumenic Age that the genetic context of
ancient gnosticism was “”the interaction between expansion of empire
and differentiation of consciousness.””41 The expansion of empire
gave rise to dissatisfaction with the present situation (the first
characteristic in his list of six that we saw above), but that dissatisfaction
took a special form due to the fact that some people were already
experiencing and trying to understand what Voegelin calls a “”differentiation
of consciousness,”” one of the major themes of his thought.
There are two distinct thrusts in Voegelin’s thought within the idea
of differentiation of consciousnessâwhat he called noetic (intellectual
or rational) differentiation and pneumatic (spiritual).
The noetic differentiation was essentially the self-discovery and
appropriation of the reasoning mind that took place among the
classic philosophers, the realization that at least part of what we
know, we know by engaging in the methodical procedures of
inquiry, with attention to processes of interpretation and critical
reflection. But there was also something else that could be known in
a different way, and this was where spiritual experience, the pneumatic
differentiation, and cognitio fidei (the knowledge that takes
place by faith)42 came in. Voegelin also sometimes called this
“”existential consciousness”” or “”eschatological consciousness.”” The
key element in both the noetic and pneumatic differentiations was
the realization of a difference, within our concrete, personal experience
of existence, between an immanent pole (which we call “”man””
or “”ourselves””) and a radically transcendent pole, which can go by
various names such as “”the Beyond”” or “”God”” or “”Being.”” The
human experience of existence then becomes that of what Voegelin
called a “”Between”” (translating the Greek metaxy), that is, between
the two poles. This is experienced as a condition of tension, especially
of longing for what is Beyond or being pulled by it. So the
philosopher experiences questioning as a seeking and being drawn
by potentially knowable truth, and the mystic experiences the soul’s
longing as a seeking and being drawn by the divine. The noetic and
pneumatic differentiations, though they express themselves in different
activities and represent themselves in different symbolisms,
are closely related. As Voegelin put it in The Ecumenic Age, “”…the
structure of a theophanic experience reaches from a pneumatic
center to a noetic periphery.””43 In both differentiations it is the same
Beyond, the same pole with its tension of seeking and being drawn.
The difference is only in the way the philosopher or the mystic
relates to the Beyond. One relates to it through questioning, the
other through prayer.
Before these two differentiations, there was what Voegelin calls
“”the primary experience of the cosmos.”” This was an earlier way of
apprehending the field of human experience. Imaginatively, it was
experienced as a cosmos full of gods; that is, the transcendent pole
was experienced as present in the field but dispersed within it in
such a way that it was identified with the variety of particular
intracosmic forces. Hence there were gods of fertility, the weather,
and so on. Both the immanent and transcendent poles of experience
were present in this primary experience, but they were intermingled,
and the structure of the field was unclear. Cognitively, the
primary experience of the cosmos was known by a human mind
embedded in its myths; the structure of reality was grasped imaginatively
as the cosmos full of gods, and both cosmos and gods were
known in the stories told about them. Classic philosophy was born
in the process (the noetic differentiation) in which the human mind
and imagination ceased to be simply embedded in their myths but
developed a reflective distance that made it possible to think more
carefully and critically about the contents of the field and its bipolar
structure. The prophetic movement in Israel was motivated by the
corresponding pneumatic differentiation of radical transcendence
from the mythic imagery of a tribal god who came to be understood
as the radically transcendent, monotheist God.
When differentiation of consciousness takes place, Voegelin
said, it is both exciting and disturbing; it is also subtle, delicate, and
very susceptible to distortion. It can give rise to the exuberant play
of dialectics and also to feelings of a gulf between us and the Beyond
(expressed in the symbolism of sin and fallenness) and the imperatives
of the prophets to reorder our lives in accord with what a proper
relation to transcendence demands of us. But it can also slip into
hypostatizations of immanence and transcendence, their interpretation
not as poles of our experience of existence but as “”things””: thus
the Beyond becomes an individual entity named “”God,”” and we
become entities called human beings, which exist separately from
the being of that other entity called God. (Just as the noetic
differentiation could slip into hypostatization of the dynamic operations
of interpretation and critical reflection into faculties called
“”intellect”” and “”reason.””) As Voegelin put it in “”Reason: The Classic
Experience,”” “”If man exists in the metaxy, in the tension âbetween
god and man,’ any construction of man as a world-immanent entity
will destroy the meaning of existence, because it deprives man of his
specific humanity. The poles of the tension must not be hypostatized
into objects independent of the tension in which they are experienced
as its poles.””44
Both differentiations were susceptible to what Voegelin liked to
call a “”derailment”” into gnostic forms. So, for example, he says with
regard to the pneumatic differentiation’s implications for ancient
Gnostics that “”[t]he Gnostic imbalance of consciousness…causes a
split to run through divine reality, separating the daimonic powers
of the world from the pneumatic divinity of the Beyond”” and that
“”[w]hile these early movements attempt to escape from the Metaxy
by splitting its poles into the hypostases of this world and the
Beyond, the modern apocalyptic-Gnostic movements attempt to
abolish the Metaxy by transforming the Beyond into this world.””45 In
this instance, Voegelin remains close to the usual meaning of the
term “”gnostic,”” but in his general usage he extended it in such a way
that it became a collective name for every possible way of
immanentizing the transcendent poleâvery far from its usual
meaning.
He sees the various forms of distortion as virtually inevitable
companions to the pneumatic differentiation in the prophets of
Israel and the early Christians, since it is so easy to slip from one to
the other. In “”The Gospel and Culture,”” for example, he says, “”The
various problems transmitted to us through two thousand years have
their center in the Movement in which man’s consciousness of
existence emerges from the primary experience of the cosmos.
Consciousness becomes luminous to itself as the site of the revelatory
process, of the seeking and being drawn. The experience of a
cosmos full of gods has to yield to the experience of eminent divine
presence in the movement of the soul in the metaxy,”” and “”the area
of existential consciousness, though eminent of rank, is only one area
of reality. If it is overemphasized, the cosmos and its gods will
become the âalien earth’ of the Gnostics and life in the despised
world will hardly be worth living. The tendency toward this imbalance
is certainly present in the gospel movement.””46
In fact, the pneumatic differentiation is so elusive and therefore
so inherently fragile, that in the early Christian experiences, which
Voegelin thought reached the historical high point of pneumatic
differentiation, it was particularly susceptible to derailment. As he
put it in The Ecumenic Age, “”Considering the history of Gnosticism,
with the great bulk of its manifestations belonging to, or deriving
from, the Christian orbit, I am inclined to recognize in the epiphany
of Christ the great catalyst that made eschatological consciousness an
historical force, both in forming and deforming humanity.””47 Spiritual
hopes can easily become immanentized by the imagination as
hopes for a super-terrestrial paradise with virtually terrestrial palm
trees and fountains, and just as easily they can slide into becoming
hopes for a terrestrial paradise in which each will give according to
his ability and take only according to his need. Or the authentic
cognitio fidei that knows God as the Beyond of the Between can be
immanentized into the belief that God is a god, dragging, as it were,
the Beyond into a world that is no longer a Between: “”Unless the
Unknown God is the undifferentiated divine presence in the background
of the specific intracosmic gods, he is indeed a god unknown
to the primary experience of the cosmos. In that case, however, there
is no process of revelation in history, nor a millennial Movement
culminating in the epiphany of the Son of God, but only the irruption
of an extra-cosmic god into a cosmos to whose mankind he hitherto
had been hidden.””48
In the case of the noetic differentiation, the derailment that
Voegelin called “”gnostic”” took the forms of either or both of: (1)
overlooking and trying to bypass the necessary demands of rational
inquiry through claims to non-rational intuitive knowledge or to
feeling as a higher form of knowledge, or (2) as in the case just
described, the attempt to “”immanentize”” the Beyond, that is, to treat
it as though it were an intramundane entity. In the latter case, God
does not become a god, but is reduced to an ultimate knowable, a
kind of supreme idea that has finally become thoroughly understood.
Voegelin’s classic case of this is G.W.F. Hegel’s “”attempt to
reduce the Logos of revelation to the logos of philosophy, and the
logos of philosophy to the dialectics of consciousness. Philosophy
(Liebe zum Wissen) was supposed to advance toward Gnosis
(wirkliches Wissen)âand that could be done only through anaesthetizing
the philosopher’s sensitiveness to the borderline between
the knowable and the unknowable, for the point at which the
knowable truth of order is rooted in the Eros of the transcendent
Sophon”” (that is, the Beyond as the transcendent pole of noetic
seeking that makes possible the reflective distance that keeps one
from identifying any one interpretation of experience with truth as
such).49 Referring to both Hegel and Friedrich Engels in From
Enlightenment to Revolution, Voegelin states this issue in the words,
“”The fallacy of gnosis consists in the immanentization of transcendental
truth.””50 Extending this idea further to refer to all efforts to
reduce the totality of the knowable to what can only be known by way
of the methods of the natural sciences, Voegelin says, “”Scientism has
remained to this day one of the strongest Gnostic movements in
Western society…”” and goes on to speak of “”the immanentist pride
in science.””51
The immanentizing negations of both the noetic and the pneumatic
differentiations of consciousness easily issue into the types of
political utopianism or “”realized eschatology”” that Voegelin called
political gnosticism. So, for example, he says of Karl Marx, “”The
Marxian gnosis expresses itself in the conviction that the movement
of the intellect in the consciousness of the empirical self is the
ultimate source of knowledge for the understanding of the universe.
Faith and the life of the spirit are expressly excluded as an independent
source of order in the soul.””52 The political expression of this is
the attempt to immanentize the transcendent as the perfection of
worldly existence. As suchâ and this is a point that I think Voegelin’s
use of the language of “”gnosticism”” did help to emphasizeâpolitical
utopianism has a religious dimension, even when, as in Marx’s case,
it denies the value of traditional religion; its goal is radical transcendence
realized as radical immanence. So, Voegelin speaks of Marx’s
“”gnosticism”” as “”parousiastic,”” referring to the religious hope for the
transformation of the world through divine action into a true
paradise: “”The aim of parousiastic gnosticism is to destroy the order
of being, which is experienced as defective and unjust, and through
man’s creative power to replace it with a perfect and just order.””53
This effort tries to reverse or suppress the insight of the pneumatic
differentiation regarding the radical distinctness of the transcendent
pole of the experiential field. The pneumatic differentiation
“”dedivinized”” the world by bringing forward that distinctness;
parousiastic gnosticism “”redivinizes”” it.54 But this does not have the
effect of restoring the primary experience of the cosmos, which had
itself involved a healthy appreciation of what lies beyond us, even if
its symbolism blurred the distinction between the Beyond and its
finite participations. As Voegelin explains it, “”Modern re-divinization
has its origins rather in Christianity itself, deriving from components
that were suppressed as heretical by the universal church””âthat is,
from ancient Gnosticism.55
Here again we see Voegelin eliding from the conventional
picture of ancient Gnostic world-rejection to modern efforts to build
a perfect world that would exclude any real transcendence. But in
this Voegelin is nevertheless making an important point: that there
can be forms of modern world-affirmation that imply deep hostility
toward transcendence and thereby deform the order of our existential
structure, or, as Voegelin also puts it, they close us off against the
transcendent pole of consciousness.56 To do this requires force and
entails hostility; hence the angry atheism that animates attempts to
build a new heaven on earth: “”And taking control of being further
requires that the transcendent origin of being be obliterated: it
requires the decapitation of beingâthe murder of God.””57
#page#
It is possible, however, to make this kind of point and analyze its
implications without falling back on the language of “”gnosticism.””
Let me mention one place where Voegelin does so, in a manner that
could serve as an example for those who would like to carry forward
his tradition effectively. In his 1974 essay, “”Reason: the Classic
Experience,”” Voegelin talks about the positive insights into the
structure of human existence among the philosophers of classical
Greece, and he also talks about what can go wrong when people of
lesser insight or perverse people will defy that structure, but he does
so without the use of the words “”gnostic”” or “”gnosticism.”” He talks
about the Hellenic differentiation of “”nous,”” about Plato’s awareness
of “”tension toward the ground of existence,”” and about how his way
of speaking about it “”left consciousness open to the future of
theophany, to the pneumatic revelations of the Judaeo-Christian
type as well as to the later differentiations of mysticism and of
tolerance in doctrinal matters.””58 He also talks about how “”the
phenomena of existential disorder through closure toward the
ground of reality”” had been observed and analyzed from the time of
Heraclitus.59 He talks about how “”the shattering experiences of
ecumenic imperialism and, in its wake, existential disorientation as
a mass phenomenon””60 both stimulated the philosophers to develop
a language with which to bring their insights to “”conceptual fixation””
and gave rise to the “”agnoia ptoiodes”” (fearful ignorance) and
anxietas that stimulated aspernatio rationis (rejection of reason)61
and would eventually produce the parallel modern closure of the
soul that Heimito von Doderer in the twentieth century called
Apperzeptionsverweigerung (refusal to apperceive).62 Voegelin
offers an analysis that effectively takes account of the hostility in
this to transcendence and the order of being, “”the decapitation of
being”” or “”murder of God”” referred to above. Drawing on Plato’s
language, Voegelin discusses this as “”eristics,”” the negative, deathseeking,
counterpart to the open, life-seeking, exercise of reason
called “”dialectics.”” “”The differentiation of Life and Death as the
moving forces behind Reason and the passions,”” says Voegelin, is
worked out in Plato’s symbolism of reason as open exploration of the
Between:
To move within the metaxy, exploring it in all directions and
orienting himself in the perspective granted to man by his position
in reality, is the proper task of the philosopher. To denote this
movement of thought or discussion (logos) within the metaxy,
Plato uses the term dialectics ([Philebus] 17a). Since, however,
man’s consciousness is also conscious of participating in the poles
of the metaleptic tension (i.e., in the Apeiron [the Boundless] and
Nous), and the desire to know is apt to reach beyond the limits of
participatory knowledge, there will be thinkersâ””those who are
considered wise among men these days””âwho are inclined to let
the In-Between reality (ta mesa) escape (ekpheugein) them in
their libidinous rush toward cognitive mastery over the hen [the
One] or the apeiron. To denote this type of speculative thought
Plato uses the term eristics (17a).63
Here we see, I think, a clear analysis of the issues Voegelin often used
the word “”gnosticism”” to designate, but in this essay he manages to
offer it without once falling back on that word (and dragging in with
it all its manifold relevant or irrelevant connotations).
I hope that by this time the reader can see both that Voegelin’s
use of the language of “”gnosticism”” involves some serious problems
and that he was nevertheless trying to use it to address important
issues regarding the fundamental order of human existence and the
ways it can fall into disorder. To sum up briefly, the problems with
Voegelin’s use of that language are:
1. It begins by claiming to draw out the implications of historical
research on the ancient gnostics but does so in ways that conflict
confusingly with the meanings given the word by the leading
scholars in that field of research in his own time.
2. Even if his use of the term had been in line with that of the
scholars of his time, the state of scholarship has advanced considerably
in the last half century, in directions that call into question even
the most widely accepted scholarship Voegelin drew on.
3. Even if the ancient Gnosticism he appealed to as the source
of what he called modern “”gnosticism”” had not been so clearly
disinclined to seek salvation in worldly fulfillment, the historical
links Voegelin asserted between that and the modern immanentizing
patterns of thought he talked about do not exist in the evidence
available, and his assertions of those links did not meet the usual
standards of scholarly carefulness that he believed in.
4. When the word “”gnosticism”” appears in the writings of
Voegelin and Voegelinians, it brings with it a host of associations that
are likely to confuse the issues its use is intended to clarify, or at least
puts out a bone of contention that is likely to distract many readers
from the serious problems Voegelinian research tries to bring to
their attention.
5. Voegelin’s own use of the term, though richly meaningful
when one goes into it in depth and sets aside all the side issues it
tends to arouse, covers so many distinct problems that its very
richness makes it seem overly general and impreciseâa problem
Voegelin seems to have recognized himself when he said in 1978, as
I mentioned earlier, that besides what was then usually called by that
name, the ideas he was interested in using it to address included
many other strands, such as apocalypticism, alchemy, magic, theurgy,
and scientism.
Voegelin’s analyses of the universal structure of human existence
and the symbolisms that have developed to express the insights
into that structure that have emerged in the course of history were
stated in terms specific to the many facets of those matters he
addressed. He did not try to use some single term to cover them all.
But the manifold forms that can be taken by all the various ways of
misunderstanding and distorting those insights, philosophical, theological,
spiritual, political, psychological, literary, and so on, Voegelin
often tried to cover with what we can now see was a single, very
problematic term, “”gnosticism,”” that is likely to confuse more than
to clarify. Also, I hope I may be permitted to add, that term’s
polemical associations pose the danger that what tries to operate as
objective analysis may easily come to sound merely partisan in the
ears of many in the potential audience for further Voegelinian
researchâand those same associations may tempt some who would
carry forward that research to lapse into a kind of lazy polemicism
that does not want to take the trouble to find more precise language
for its analyses or to explore particular cases in the greater depth that
more precise language might make possible. As Michael Franz
rightly said, “”…there is a very real danger that less cautious polemicists
will invoke Voegelin’s categories without troubling themselves
over the difficulties involved in establishing the presence of spiritual
disease in the objects of their ridicule.””64 These are issues that those
who would honor Voegelin’s achievement and seek to extend it in
the future in their own research would do well to consider carefully.
Eugene Webb
University of Washington
NOTES
- The term is usually capitalized when referring to the (supposed)
ancient religion of Gnosticism, and I will capitalize it when
referring primarily to that. I will leave it uncapitalized when referring,
as here, to a more general phenomenonâalthough I should
state from the start that the real existence of a general phenomenon
sufficiently unified to be designated by such a name seems more
questionable now, as I shall explain, than it did a few decades ago.
That there was a sufficiently consistent pattern of thinking among
many ancient figures traditionally called “”Gnostics”” to allow us to
speak of an ancient religion of Gnosticism has also become highly
questionable. (Voegelin’s own publications follow no consistent
pattern regarding capitalization of the word.) - In a conversation reported by John William Corrington in
“”Order and History: The Breaking of the Program,”” Denver Quarterly,
no. 3 (Autumn, 1975): 122. - See especially his Sacralizing the Secular : the Renaissance
Origins of Modernity (Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University
Press, 1989) and The Modern Age and the Recovery of Ancient
Wisdom: A Reconsideration of Historical Consciousness, 1450â
1650 (Columbia: University of Missouri Press, 1991). - Baton Rouge and London: Louisiana State University Press,
1992. - See my Eric Voegelin: Philosopher of History (Seattle and
London: University of Washington Press, 1981), p. 200. - VOEGELINâRESEARCH NEWS Volume III, No. 1 (February
1997), archived at http://vax2.concordia.ca/~vorenews/ - Leiden: E.J. Brill; San Francisco: Harper and Row, 1977.
French translations appeared in 1978. Before this, scholars were
pretty much restricted to working with facsimile copies of the Coptic
texts as they were made available. For an indignant account of the
slowness with which the Nag Hammadi documents were made
available, see Hans Jonas’s supplement to the second edition of The
Gnostic Religion; The Message of the Alien God and the Beginnings
of Christianity (Boston: Beacon Press, 1963), pp. 290â291. - Leiden: E.J. Brill; New York: Harper and Row, 1959.
- Voegelin was also acquainted with the descriptions and
summaries of some of the Nag Hammadi material in Jean Doresse’s,
The Secret books of the Egyptian Gnostics: An Introduction to the
Gnostic Coptic Manuscripts Discovered at Chenoboskion, trans.
Philip Mairet (London: Hollis & Carter, 1960), probably in its 1958
French original. - Jonas published a second volume in 1954 and was working
on a third but never finished it. - Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1952, p. 124 n. 25.
Voegelin had also read the Eranos address, “”Gnosis and Time,”” by
Henri-Charles Puech published in the 1951 Eranos Jahrbuch and in
English translation in Man and Time, Papers from the Eranos
Yearbooks 3, ed. Joseph Campbell (New York: Pantheon, 1957), but
this essay was based almost entirely on the traditional heresiological
sources rather than on the Nag Hammadi manuscripts. - The Gnostic Religion, second edition, revised, p. xvii.
- Hans Jonas told me in 1987 that Voegelin had not understood
his conception of Gnosticism. My own impression was that
Voegelin understood quite well what Jonas said about Gnosticism
but modified the idea for his own purposes, as I will explain below. - The Gnostic Religion, pp. 23, 26.
- Ibid., p. 42.
- Ibid., p. 43.
- Ibid., p. 35.
- Ibid., p. 46.
- This may be why Jonas thought Voegelin did not understand
what he meant by Gnosticism (see note 13, above). Jonas’s own
application of the category to modern phenomena was to what he
called nihilism (which included, for him, Sartrean existentialism)
rather than, as in Voegelin, to unrealistic utopian movements, which
were trying to bring about changes that were hoped to offer the
promise of a better life in this world. See The Gnostic Religion, ch.
13, “”Epilogue: Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism,”” pp. 320â
340. - Ibid., p. 24.
- The title of the lecture was “”Modern Dogmatism,”” delivered
at the University of Washington in March, 1976. - Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996, p. 7. Emphasis
in original. - “”âGnosis’ and âGnosticism’: The Problems of Their Definition
and Their Relation to the Writings of the New Testament,”” in
The New Testament and Gnosis: Essays in Honour of Robert
McLachlan Wilson, ed. A.H.B. Logan and A.J.M. Wedderburn
(Edinburgh: T.&T. Clark, 1983), p. 28, quoted in Williams, Rethinking
“”Gnosticism,”” p. 263. - Rethinking “”Gnosticism,”” p. 32.
- Ibid. Ellipsis in original.
- Jonas also includes the Poimander of Hermes Trismegistus,
which is not in Irenaeus. Stephen A. McKnight, in the works cited
above, has shown the inappropriateness of this, given the essence of
Gnosticism that Jonas was trying to assimilate this to. - Williams, p. 45.
- Ibid., pp. 51â52, 265.
- Ibid., p. 265.
- Franz, op. cit., p. 102.
- See my essay, “”Eric Voegelin at the End of an Era: Differentiations
of Consciousness and the Search for the Universal,”” in
International and Interdisciplinary Perspectives on Eric Voegelin,
ed. Stephen A. McKnight and Geoffrey L. Price (Columbia, Missouri:
University of Missouri Press, 1997), pp. 159â188; my review
of Michael Franz, Eric Voegelin and the Politics of Spiritual Revolt:
The Roots of Modern Ideology, in VOEGELIN â RESEARCH
NEWS Volume III, No. 1 (February 1997); and my essay in
response to critics, “”Persuasion and the Problem of Polarizing
Rhetoric,”” VOEGELINâRESEARCH NEWS, 4, no. 4 (August
1998). The latter two are archived at http://vax2.concordia.ca/
~vorenews/. - “”Eric Voegelin at the End of an Era,”” p. 168.
- A note on Voegelin’s supposed “”conservatism””: Voegelin
often expressed his wariness of political parties both of the left and
of the right. One of the few figures involved in politics (though not
himself a politician) whom Voegelin expressed unqualified admiration
for was John R. Commons, an economist at the University of
Wisconsin who was a major voice for political reform movements in
the early twentieth century. Commons favored redistribution of
wealth for the sake of greater equality, a minimum wage, unionization
of labor, and limitations on the hours of labor that employers
could demand. Legislation drafted in Wisconsin by John R. Commons
and his students served as models for measures enacted in the
New Deal, including social security. See Robert William Fogel, The
Fourth Great Awakening and the Future of Egalitarianism (Chicago:
U. of Chicago Press, 2000), pp. 117, 129. See also Lafayette G.
Harter, Jr., John R. Commons: His Assault on Laissez-Faire (Corvallis,
Oregon: Oregon State University Press, 1962). Cf. also Michael
Franz, op. cit., p. 14 on how Voegelin’s more conservative admirers
do not give sufficient attention to Voegelin’s appreciative critique of
some features of Marx in From Enlightenment to Revolution.
Thomas J.J. Altizer wrote that “”Voegelin, like Ricoeur, is radical and
reactionary at once and altogether, thus baffling all who attempt to
employ him either for political or theological ends.”” Journal of the
American Academy of Religion, 43 (1975): 758. - Science, Politics, and Gnosticism: Two Essays (Chicago:
Henry Regnery, 1968), pp. 86â88. This title will subsequently be
abbreviated as SPG. - SPG, pp. 99â100.
- The New Science of Politics: An Introduction (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1952), p. 112. This title will subsequently
be abbreviated as NSP. - NSP, p. 124.
- I wrote about this, before I had ever read Voegelin, in The
Dark Dove: The Sacred and Secular in Modern Literature (Seattle
and London: University of Washington Press, 1975), pp. 22â24,
34â35, and 132â133. - Ibid.
- SPG, p. 83.