Download PDF | Basil Tatakis - Byzantine Philosophy-Hackett Publishing Company (2003).
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Preface to the French Edition
It was difficult for one to give to Byzantium its proper place in the history of philosophy, as it was to do the same for Oriental history. At best I can only note some of its characteristic traits and indicate some of its high points. Though the history, art, and civilization of Byzantium continue to attract research of the highest order (to which French scholars have contributed brilliantly), no historian of philosophy has up to now attempted the study of Byzantine philosophy in its entirety. On most occasions it is considered an aberrant offshoot of Western philosophy, a storehouse for the treasures of Hellenism, which from the 13th through the 15th century, would, when needed, nourish Western thought. In this interpretation, Psellos’s and Plethon’s sole purpose was to prepare the way for Italian Platonism and humanism. This constitutes a highly limited interpretation of history.
In actuality, Byzantium evolved an ideological movement which was totally autonomous. Even during the Roman Empire the Greeks were less eager to learn Latin than Latins were to learn Greek, that prestigious language. Plutarch knew very little Latin, while Alexandrians like Philo and Plotinus either ignored or denigrated it. The Byzantines, however, maintained their pride in being Hellenes through their linguistic and philosophical traditions, traditions that gave them a keen awareness of their superiority and difference. In the domain of Christianity, the spirit of the Greek Fathers is entirely different from that of the Latin Fathers who succeeded them. The Trinitarian heresies, which were so numerous and characteristic of the East, reveal a persistent interest in a profound metaphysical intuition, an interest absent in the West apart from some very notable exceptions such as John the Scot, and even these were owing to Eastern influences.
For these reasons | decided to ask B. N. Tatakis, known especially for his contributions in the area of Greek philosophy,’ to write this treatise on Byzantine philosophy. Tatakis possessed all the resources needed to undertake this formidable task. With his mastery of Medieval Greek, which is in many respects different from that of Ancient Greek, he was in a position to analyze works that are virtually unknown. One of the biggest difficulties, which still remains unresolved, was that of the enormous number of unpublished works awaiting study in manuscript libraries all over the world, works which are absolutely essential for the researcher in this field.* A splendid result of his present studies is that Tatakis has shown the direction that publication of these texts must take. Professor Tatakis also was able to use relevant texts written in Modern Greek and that are available only in Greece. Another difficulty was the extraordinarily complex nature of the intellectual currents in Byzantium. This book, for example, presents the intellectual differences between universities and monasteries, a situation quite unlike what happened in the West, where universities were founded much later and were under the direction of popes and run principally by monks. Byzantine mysticism, largely monastic, differs, for this reason, from Western mysticism.
However, the philosophical importance of Tatakis’s work lies in his meticulous demonstration of the continuation of Greek thought within Christian philosophy. He states at the end of his book that the truc legacy of Byzantine thought after the destruction of Byzantium spreads to Orthodox lands, from Greece to Russia. Byzantine thought does not appear to recognize the emphasis placed on subjectivity, the personal relation between man and God, or the importance of practical action, all of which characterize the movement of ideas initiated by Saint Augustine that have been propagated in the West up to modern times. From Hellenism, Byzantine thought retained an intuition of the world that seeks to find man’s place in the order of the universe of which he is a part. In fact, and apart from countercurrents, mystical Platonism after Psellos has, with Plethon, the triumphant last word in Byzantium. As for the final inheritors of Byzantium, one should seek them in that ecumenical movement of which Russia had so many representatives around 1900. “In the West,” one writer notes while attempting to define this movement, “catholic means that the Church extends to all people and to all countries in the world; catholic has therefore a quantitative significance, it refers to universal diffusion. By contrast, in the East catholic has a qualitative sense that means union with everything.”
Consequently, all those sometimes intense conflicts that will be described below demonstrate the existence of an autonomous and sturdy spiritual] structure, one that resists historical disasters and is captured so well by the title of this book's final chapter: “Byzantium after Byzantium.”
E. Bréhier
Preface
The following pages constitute a supplement to the first volume of E. Bréhier’s History of Philosophy. Since the complementary part to this history was devoted almost entirely to the Western Middle Ages, it was deemed proper to reserve for Byzantine philosophy its own special section, thereby illustrating its unique importance. It has now been a full century since Byzantine studies have progressed beyond the 18th-century prejudices against Byzantine civilization. For scholars, Byzantium now appears in a different and much more interesting light.
Ancient Greece-Rome—the Middle Ages—the Renaissance has traditionally been the course of study that still today explains the development of European civilization. A better understanding of Byzantium, however, could help enormously in comprehending the Middle Ages, the Renaissance, and even the contributions made by Slavs and Arabs to the development of Western Civilization. Moreover, Byzantium is the only place where we can follow step-by-step, without abrupt interruptions, the transformation of paganism into Christianity in the early centuries of our era. This passage from the ancient to the Christian world, which is also our world, reflects one of the most dramatic moments in the evolution of Western consciousness. We must, therefore, proceed to Byzantium now that we have visited Rome.
“The Byzantine Empirc,” writes E. Bréhier,? summarizing his opinions about Byzantium, “is the organic development of the Hellenized and Christianized Roman Empire. We find united in Byzantium the three basic clements of European civilization: Hellenism, Roman law, and Christianity.
Byzantine society is the immediate continuation of ancient society. The barbarian invasions that devastated the western portion of the Empire in the fifth century do not completely penetrate the eastern portion until the 15th century. Thus Constantinople performed for the Slavic people the same function Rome had performed for the Germanic tribes.” This is essentially Byzantium’s contribution. What is true for political and social history is true for intellectual history as well. Byzantine philosophy follows seamlessly the period that preceded it. For this reason, how great is the importance of this unique gift that the Greek people have given us: the opportunity to observe the uninterrupted evolution of their intellectual activity, from the time when it first emerged in antiquity with Homer to the 15th century and from there to our own day and age. Too often we forget this gift, forgetting that the Byzantine epoch is principally an important period in the history of the Greek people. We hope to demonstrate that Byzantine philosophy constitutes one form—the Christian form—of the thought, reason, and spirit of Greece.
Here we must confess that a historical synthesis of this philosophy cannot be based upon any adequate preliminary work, for most of its representative figures have not yet been studied systematically and methodically. Moreover, a great number of the philosophical texts have not been published, and for those which have been published, the philological work done upon them is brief and incomplete. Frequently we cannot properly attribute manuscripts to their rightful authors, and for the most part we do not have critical editions of published texts. In spite of these drawbacks, however, we have decided to proceed with this synthesis in view of the interest which the Byzantine epoch itself offers, and the insight it provides in understanding the evolution of Western thought.
When does the period of Byzantine philosophy begin? More fundamental than this question, however, is another: Is there actually in philosophy ever a period that is new and different from a previous one? If yes, then what are its essential characteristics? Some historians mark the beginning of the Byzantine period by the religious conversion of the emperor Constantine and some by the founding of Constantinople. The former no doubt constitutes a decisively significant event that opens a new period in the larger history of Christianity. But by itself, the founding of Constantinople cannot serve as a starting date for Byzantine philosophy, since it took a century or more for the consequences to become evident. We must therefore search elsewhere to answer the above questions.
There are two sources for philosophic thought during the early centuries of our era: Hellenism and Christianity. Hellenism evolves within the new world which is being constructed around it, while still preserving the essential characteristics of Greek thought. However, despite its evolution, we must recognize that Hellenism is the final radiance of a world that is fading. Consequently, we must search for the essential characteristics of this new period within Christianity, which in the early centuries attempted to present in a systematic and coherent manner the entirety of the new faith, while assimilating Greek thought in form and content as long as this system of thought did not conflict with faith itself. It is well to note that Greek thought, when it is transposed textually, comes to acquire a new meaning, since the foundation of the edifice that it supports is entirely different.
Within Christianity thus considered we detect an elementary bifurcation. From the outset, what will later be called Western and Eastern differ in their attitude toward Hellenism and their understanding of the new faith. The Western is predominantly the work of the Latin spirit and the Eastern is that of the Greek. The former results in what will later be known as Catholicism while the latter results in Orthodoxy, which is no less than the Greek conception of Christianity. This is, it seems, a reliable guide to a basic distinction between the two Christian worlds. A political accident, the barbarian invasions of the West, contributed decisively to the separate development of each of these two worlds. From the sixth century on, one cannot speak of Hellenism in the West. By contrast, in the East, Greek civilization—in its nonreligious character—becomes embodied in the life of the Byzantine world, and from the synthesis of the elements of these two worlds is born Byzantine civilization.
The same thing happened in philosophy. Even before the close of the pagan schools in Athens, philosophical thought attempted to open avenues that would permit the incorporation of its still vibrant elements into the Christian world. This effort took place mostly in the fifth and sixth centuries. Moreover, Christianity was free to appropriate any and all of the basic elements of waning paganism, as long as these elements underwent discussion, study, and cleansing from their non-Christian foundations. All of this comes to constitute a first version of humanism.
Another characteristic of this new humanism becomes more evident in the sixth century. What most strikes us in the works of Christian authors of the sixth century is the creative spirit that guides them in the expression of their faith. They are true masters; the authority of tradition does not burden them, for they create tradition. The sixth century [also] begins the period of disciples upon whom the authority of tradition weighs more and more heavily. For the most part their effort is no longer directed toward creativity. They endeavor, though without admitting it, to deepen and further explore their inherited treasures. Orthodoxy now becomes solidly established.
All of this evidence leads us to conclude that in the East, with the start of the Byzantine cra, a new period begins for Christianity and for philosophy insofar as we take philosophy as having its origin in religion, revolving around religion, and inclining toward it. Since all of the above elements are most clearly expressed in texts after the sixth century, we therefore place the beginning of the Byzantine Period within the sixth century.
As for the unique characteristics of Byzantine philosophy, we will attempt to underscore them as well as possible. Until now research has been directed more to the comparative study of East and West? than to the essence of philosophical thought in Byzantium. We believe that it is time to study the Byzantine period itself and in its own specific context. Comparisons and interrelationships can be considered later. Before undertaking the historian’s work we must do the work of philosophy.
Preface to the English Edition
There is little one could add to what the author of the present work, the late Professor Basil Tatakis, says in his own preface, or to the crisp prefatory statement of the late Professor E. Bréhier in his preface to the French edition. The purpose of my own remarks is to draw attention to the features that make this work indispensable to future studies of intellectual traditions that have loomed large in the history of Western philosophy. 1 hasten to add that it is advisable to keep in mind that the period Tatakis’s work covers also recommends acquaintance with the history of Arabic and Jewish philosophy. It is important at this point to emphasize the relation of Byzantine thought to Western philosophy: To say, at long last, that the time is now ripe to widen the scope of the latter and treat more judiciously the vast network of its indebtedness to the cultural record of Byzantium, and ipso facto to Eastern Christian Orthodoxy as the latter relates to classical Greece.
Due to misunderstandings and scholarly accidents, such as a great number of unedited and/or unavailable Byzantine writings, this rich and in many ways original record has been viewed with reservations, if not prejudicial approaches, in certain otherwise notable historical works. It is no longer correct to think of the Byzantine cultural tradition as a negligible chapter in the story of medieval developments unless one were to insist on limiting the record to what took place during the aftermath of the Western Roman Empire. In light of the impressive strides in recent Byzantine studies it is diffcult to defend the older thesis that the philosophical and cultural features of the first fourteen centuries of Christian thought form a period notably lacking in the use of reason. Such a stance depended for its persuasiveness mainly on a strict appeal to progress in science and/or a division into eras that placed the Middle Ages disadvantageously between two superior epochs, the ancient and the modern. The point in saying this, which I consider central to the scholarly value of the present volume, is that understanding Western philosophy and the traditions from which it drew throughout its history, needs to have its perimeter redrawn to include the neglected yet large and substantial stretch of one thousand years of philosophical and theological work done in what became of the Eastern Roman Empire, renamed conveniently as Byzantium.
It is unfortunate that due to language barriers, ideological divisiveness, church politics, events of war and waves of invasions, Europe became for centuries and with few exceptions a vast area of turmoil and instability. Ineptness, waste, and lack of foresight disrupted the continuity of cultural sharing and led eventually to the spiritual polarization of the two parts into which the Roman Empire was divided during the reign of Theodosius. The Empire, a mosaic of peoples and lands, failed to maintain its wholeness even after Christianity began to wield enough political and spiritual power to proceed beyond heralding the unity of mankind as its ecumenical mission.
The schism of the churches distanced them from one another and from their common vision. Nevertheless, acceptance of the role of rational reflection as a complement to the articles of the new faith was never seriously abandoned, even when in certain extreme cases fanatical defenders declared the ancient ways of wisdom irrelevant to the ends of the new salvation. The more reasonable thinkers sought continuities and assistance from the great currents of the available ideas from the pre-Christian past, while the shaping of a new culture was being founded on the religious teachings of Jesus. The conciliatory effort, the creative side of Christian intellectuals, somehow did not fail to make its use felt in both sides of the late Roman Empire, albeit in unequal and different ways. This exchange of ideas and its impact on the thinking it beneficially affected, is precisely what remains to be fully explored and evaluated. To this end, Tatakis’s book may be seen as a most helpful aid. It stresses with vividness and scholarly attentiveness the place of reason in the life of faith so central to the concerns of the Byzantine thinkers.
Today we are more than familiar with what this conciliatory spirit worked out through the centuries in what came to be known as the West. The full story of the adventures and accomplishments of the Christian mind in the East, despite its being essentially of the same cloth but with varying patterns of problems, remained virtually unknown until the advent of the 20th century. What has been recently written about the contributions of the Greek scholars who fled Constantinople before the advancing Ottoman Turks, is but one of the many impressive chapters of a long and extraordinary cultural record that is yet to be fully told once the treasures of the innumerable unedited manuscripts become published. From what we already know they are what they have always been: a substantial part of the broadly understood Western mind, or rather what we may call with proper conceptualization, the European mind.
This corrigendum is what B. Tatakis’s work has finally introduced at the suggestion of Professor Bréhier almost fifty years ago. The time that has lapsed between its first publication and the present translation has hardly affected its value. The impressive scholarly work that was done since its publication, instead of diminishing the importance of Tatakis’s book, has helped underscore the need to bring to the public’s attention the availability of what is still the only synthetic work in Byzantine philosophy. As such, it will hopefully stimulate further the response to bring about the needed corrections by those who may wish to engage in Byzantine studies. The call is to document securely the missing link between the two parts of the West and thus deepen our understanding of the relation of both to the classical heritage.
One more item needs underscoring: we turn to the study of the philosophical record of Byzantium not only to ascertain the continuity of the Greek language as reflected in the literary, historical, religious, and philosophical writings of the Byzantines, but also to trace the unfolding thread of the ties between philosophy and theology in the writers who became the spokesmen for the religious culture they helped build. In fact, one cannot resist repeating what has been frequently said, that we owe a note of gratitude to these thinkers for preserving whatever written records of Greece we have.
Professor Moutafakis has earned our gratitude for translating Tatakis’s book in so readable a style for the English-speaking public. The fruits of this endeavor will no doubt help future scholars reexamine whatever notions they may have been entertaining for the writing of better histories of West-
ern philosophy.
John P. Anton
Professor of Ancient Philosophy University of South Florida February 2000
Translator’s Introduction to the English Edition
I , Basil Tatakis’s masterpiece, Philosophie Byzantine, will long endure as a book without peer in its area of concentration. No one up to his time had attempted to do what he had achieved, that is, to trace the entire intellectual history of Byzantium over some one thousand years. Although since Tatakis’s work was published many have made more penetrating analyses of specific personages and periods within this enormous span of time, there has never again been an initiative to achieve what he did, that is, to sketch the entire panorama of the Byzantine epoch as it unfolds in its philosophical dimension. Writing in 1990 on the state of Byzantine philosophical studies, scholar Professor Klaus Oeler states: “The status enjoyed nowadays by research into Byzantine philosophy is owed in large part to the beneficial influences exerted by the book written by B. N. Tatakis which appeared in French shortly after the end of the war. This first, and till now unique, attempt to present an exhaustive general survey of Byzantine philosophy was a pioneering effort that will retain its value as a work of scholarship even if later research reveals new material that leads to a fresh assessment and fuller knowledge of many matters.”
Once senses, in Tatakis’s repeated efforts at holding back on the degree of detail he introduces in the text, his mastery of the enormous material at his disposal and how easily volumes more could be said on any of the myriad of themes he develops in the course of his discussion. Reflecting upon the excellence of Tatakis’s scholarship, Byzantinist Dr. Linos G. Benakis writes: “. . . what has to be shown greater respect, even some decades after the appearance of Tatakis’ book, is [his] proper conception of the general character of Byzantine philosophy and [his] accurate evaluation of its representatives. . . .””
For these reasons the English translation of this text should not only stimulate a needed dialogue on what had occurred on the Eastern European philosophical front during this period but also help in our understanding of how scholarship in this area has increased geometrically since Tatakis’s pioneering work was first published in 1949. Moreover, the inclusion in this translation of a Thematic Bibliography updated with material suggested by Dr. Benakis, along with minor additions, illustrates further both what has happened since then and how Tatakis’s work has been for many a catalyst for further inquiry.
The importance of this text is also evidenced by its translation into Spanish, Croatian, and Modern Greek. The latter translation was from the original 1949 French edition? and was supervised by Tatakis himself. Consequently, it represents a more nearly complete statement of what he had originally prepared for the Brehier series in the history of philosophy. The present translation works principally with both the French and Modern Greck’ versions, so that where Tatakis departs from his original text to add more material or footnotes for the Modern Greek reader, special notation has been introduced to indicate the precise departure from the original French text. Words that I have added appear in brackets. In some instances | have included additional material in the footnotes to bring the original reference up to date. This, however, has been kept to a bare minimum so as to preserve the integrity of the original. | hope that the updated bibliographies at the end of this volume will enable scholars to access more recent developments in this held. Moreover, ] have also paid attention to the Spanish translation,’ since it provides a needed reference for judging the accuracy of the later Modern Greck translation and also serves as a flexible alternate idiom with which to make the English version more fluid. However, where the original Ancient or Byzantine Greek is found to be indispensable, it has been retained as it appears in all of the above versions.
As the translation progressed I also found it necessary to introduce additional paragraphing so as to alleviate the tedium of the inordinately long paragraphs that both the original French edition and its Modern Greek translation contained. I did this in a way that did not violate the basic sense of the text, while endeavoring to enhance its overall readability. Furthermore, one of the most challenging aspects of the translation centered around the proper way of rendering the names of the numerous figures alluded to by Tatakis. To do this, I have opted to follow the Oxford Dictionary of Byzantium® standard so as to achieve a phonctically uniform effect that closely reflects their Greek origins. In addition, where discrepancies emerged between the French and the Modern Greek text in the footnotes, special notes are introduced alerting the reader of the notational variance. This was especially diffcult since Tatakis often identifies his sources in a very abbreviated manner, necessitating the researching of sources to explain the precise origin of his references. Finally, I have retained the practice found in the original French edition of including a specialized bibliography at the end of each chapter. This gives the reader an immediate and clear sense of what sources were available to the author at the time of his writing.
The task of attempting the translation itself was first proposed to me by Professor John P. Anton in 1984, when he visited Cleveland on a speaking engagement. Dr. Anton emphasized the importance of the work as a unique scholarly achievement that should be made available to a larger audience. His own efforts at doing the translation had been delayed by countless academic responsibilities, though the task remained close to his heart for many years. My discussions with him fueled my own interest in the project, since it promised to provide additional and long sought for insight into a cultural context with which I had some familiarity. Tatakis’s work helped in this respect in that it focuses upon the intellectual evolution that defines the Eastern European mind and thus also the rationality that underlies its unique character.
II
In reading Tatakis we are driven from the very outset to the realization that in dealing with the intellectual life of Byzantium there is a need to hold fast to a distinction between the effort of those who first fashioned, advocated, and zealously defended Orthodox theology in all of its austere rigor, and that of those who slowly rediscovered the grandeur of classical thought and sought to illuminate their times with its insights. The former, represented exclusively by clergymen, sought to dominate all avenues of human experience within a framework of religious dogmatism that allowed for no difference of opinion. Their interest was directed principally to the total submission of reason to faith. The intellectual achievements of antiquity were thus seen by them as missing the all-important spiritual focus of union with God. Scholars dedicated to the study of classical literature, on the other hand, emerged beginning in the ninth century as the forerunners of the Renaissance that ultimately takes root in Italy and the West. Their efforts stand out as towering achievements both in the way they moved their world to higher levels of cultural awareness and in their personal courage in daring to innovate in an environment which vehemently guarded against the “Hellenization” of dogma.
Over time various influential scholars and heads of state with enlightened interests in understanding the significance of the classical world balanced these two counter influences and served to conserve an emerging community of scholars. Most notable were figures such as the controversial patriarch Photios (820-91), whose classical library attracted students throughout the empire; Emperor Constantine VII Porphyrogenitus, who founded the University of Constantinople in 1045; and John Vatatzes (1225-54), who established librarics and centers of learning throughout the Empire of Nicaea.
There were thus periods in the long history of Byzantium where a few churchmen and some political leaders sought to cultivate an understanding of classical texts as a way of reaffirming their cultural linkage with antiquity. Their initiatives established centers of advanced studies that, unlike their counterparts in the West, were beyond ecclesiastical domination. This laid the foundation for an eventual intellectual rebirth through the preservation, reduplication, and scholarly interpretation of classical texts. On other occasions, however, the influence of monastic mysticism penetrated deeply into the highest levels of governmental authority, thereby fostering and nurturing a spirit of ridicule toward the credulity of literary or philosophical inquiry. Thus Photios, for example, was maligned for his great erudition by his fellow clergymen who accused him of having sold his soul to a Jewish magician.* Moreover, such periods were usually associated with efforts at stopping heresies, which threatened Church dogma and consequently threatencd the internal stability of the state.
Here Dr. Benakis’s seminal observations provide a useful perspective. In a recent article he states:
In Byzantium from the ninth century to the fifteenth century, philosophy asa discipline remained the science of fundamental truths concern- ing human beings and the world. Philosophy, the ‘wisdom from without’, was invariably contrasted with the ‘philosophy from within’, namely theology. The view that philosophy is ‘the handmaiden of theology , which the Greek Church Fathers derived from Philo and the Alexandrian school of theology, was not as dominant a position in Byzantium as it was in the West; philosophy, and logic in particular, were never treated as a mere background to, or tool of theology. By the same token, theology in Byzantium never developed into a systematic method of dialectical inquiry into Christian truths, or a science. Thus the initial distinction between philosophy and theology remained intact.’
It is perhaps in this context that one comes to understand the contradiction that rests at the heart of the Byzantine mind. On the one hand is the early recognition of the vast treasury of learning and art that was the legacy of Greece. In time, especially after the 12th century, this becomes a source that establishes in Greek minds their identity as a nationality distinct from every other. On the other hand, however, is the clergy’s insistence that dogma must prevail over rational reflection and that anything which fails to submit to its authority is to be shunned as heresy. Note, for example, with what venom Saint John Chrysostom (345?-407), apparently borrowing from Matthew 23:27, rebukes the validity of philosophical inquiry:
...if they [i.e., his opponents] cite pagan philosophers, you ought not to be in awe, but to laugh them to scorn because they are making use of stupid teachers. For those Philosophers could discover no sound teaching either about God or about creation, [for] Pythagoras did not yet know things which even the widow among us understood. On the contrary, they declared that the soul was a shrub or a fish or a dog. Ought we, then, pay attention to them, do you think? Yet, how would that be reasonable? . . . Their philosophy goes thus far. But if you look within, you see ashes and dust and nothing sound, [for] ‘Their throat is an open grave’, with everything reeking with foulness and ulcerous matter, and all their teachings worm-eaten.
The classical achievement, however, can never really be shunned or disowned, since it is repeatedly made to contribute significantly to the rationalization of religious dogma by those who, ironically, outwardly denigrated the pagan world. The early Fathers again and again employ the formal reasoning of the ancients so as to defend Christian dogma against the threats of Orientalism. Leontios of Byzantium, to cite one of countless examples, makes numerous references to Aristotle when endeavoring to solve the crucial Christological problem.'' It is fascinating to note as wel] how Saint John of Damascus (675-749), coming not very much later than Saint John Chrysostom, has, in comparison with the latter, an apparently different attitude toward the propriety of studying philosophy. In the third chapter of The Fountain of Knowledge, after the Damascene identifies various arcas of philosophical inquiry, he says:
There are, however, some people [Sceptics] who have endeavored to do away entirely with philosophy by asserting that it docs not exist and that neither does any knowledge or perception exist. We shall answer them by asking: How is it that you are saying that there is neither philosophy, nor knowledge, nor perception? Is it by your knowing and perceiving it, or is it by your not knowing and perceiving it? If you have perceived it, well, that is knowledge and perception. But if it is by your not knowing it, then no one will believe you, as long as you are discussing something of which you have no knowledge. '”
One is surprised here not only by the Damascene’s more conciliatory tone toward philosophical inquiry, but the mode of argumentation he uses to defend its right to legitimacy could have come directly from the Stranger’s discourse in Plato’s Theaetetus. Here, however, a point of clarification is in order. The philosophy the Damascene is referring to is taken more in the sense of an area of knowledge that is still inferior to theology. Central to his thinking is the belief that those who presume that unaided human reason can achieve any understanding of lasting truth (e.g., the ancient Greeks) have fallen victim to “daemonic” (Sa1povidtjc) knowledge.'’ Again, the contradictory stance, so characteristic of the Byzantine mind, is remarkably evident.
It is also principally in light of the above that one should take issue with writers, such as Constantine G. Niarchos, who have argued at great length in support of the thesis that Byzantine thought illustrates the “unbroken continuation of Greek philosophy.”'* Niarchos and others are perhaps all too quick to argue for seemingly strong links in a chain of intellectual achievements that on closer scrutiny are more imagined than real. In contrast Tatakis speaks with greater care in his characterization of the period, referring instead to the “evolution” of Greek thought from the time of Homer up to and including the Byzantine period. Though Tatakis also mentions the unbroken continuation of Greek thought, he does not mean to suggest that the Byzantine period is a logical extension of the classical period.'° To do so would totally miss the cataclysmic effect of Christianity on the pagan world, intellectually, politically, and socially.
The point here is not simply semantic; rather it is one which reflects a clearer comprehension on Tatakis’s part of how different the Byzantine emphasis was in comparison to the classical, and how the latter was unique in its nature and therefore not a willing candidate for transplantation within Orthodoxy. In fact, when Tatakis refers to a “continuation” he notes that Byzantine thought continues not directly from the classical period but from the period which immediately preceded it, which is already one of transition away from the classical to Middle Eastern Neoplatonism. Thus the continuation spoken of here should be taken more in the sense of an unbroken continuance of the written record of the Hellenistic thinkers rather than the unbroken continuance of the substance of classical thought. From this perspective one comes to appreciate not only the presence of this uninterrupted record of Greek achievement, something which is unavailable for any other national group in the West, but one also comes to respect the uniqueness of both the classical and the Byzantine contribution.
One would surely miss the significance of Tatakis’s work if one were to write off Byzantine thought as merely an affirmation of Christian belief in the face of philosophical speculation. For in Orthodoxy’s adaptation of the thematic structure of classical thought for the purpose of rationalizing Christian dogma there is a creative synthesis which goes far beyond its being just endless commentary upon and criticism of ancient scholars. The Byzantines sought to synthesize Hellas and Christianity by concentrating upon the nature of the unity between man and the universal. This theme, which permeates virtually the entire history of ancient Greek philosophy, is given a profoundly different interpretation by the Byzantines. For them the universal is spiritual and Christian in content and not logical and cosmological, contrary to what was the case with the ancients.
Furthermore, the universal can no longer be properly understood through rational reflection upon the particular, but rather such understanding is achieved through intuition, which is preceded by unconditionai faith. This, in essence, constitutes the Orthodox form of the Greek “logos.” Whereas the latter sought to explain the cosmos and our place in it, the Christian logos seeks to interpret the cos- mos in terms of its spiritual significance and how we are to transcend its physicality so as to effect a reunion with God. The interpretive role of Orthodoxy, therefore, was aimed at defining the limits within which speculative thought can move and yet remain Christian. The traditional philosophical interest in explaining how “being” is to be understood now becomes a fervent attempt to both understand it and, more important, to save it through our redemptive return to God.
For the scholar interested in the history of philosophy, the creative character of Byzantine thought is to be found in precisely how the above synthesis was pursued. This is seen in various ways, as, for example, in its interpretation of philosophical texts in light of Christian dogma, or in its adaptation of classical forms of argumentation whenever dogma was challenged by heresies, or in later attempts by scholars to resurrect the status of classical philosophy from beneath the domineering shadow of Orthodoxy, and ultimately in the dissemination of their understanding of classical texts to other lands, either through their own travels or through teaching the hordes of students that came to Constantinople for advanced study.
All of the above, and more, reveal an intense activity for over ten centuries to deal with the insights of the classical achievement in light of a spiritualism whose origins were basically Middle Eastern. Here Dr. Benakis’s insights are again especially helpful where he states: “The term “Byzantine Philosophy’ is perfectly legitimate in respect of whatever has to do with the philosophical activity of the Byzantines: teaching, commentaries upon classical texts (chiefly concerning Logic and Physics), writings on the wider subjects of Nature and Man (often starting with the teachings of leading philosophers of Greek antiquity), either interpreting and commenting or rebutting and advancing new arguments in light of the new Weltanschauung, and much else besides, from the 9th century to the fall of Byzantium in the middle of the 15th century. .. .”'°
It is important also to reflect upon the crucial fact that the Hellenic influence in Byzantium was not interrupted by barbarian invasions, as had been the case in the West. Thus the classics are never lost in the East, and the great service which Byzantium performed was to transmit this work to both Arabs and Jews and, ultimately, to the West. Significantly, however, this linkage with other cultures is not simply one of the mere physical transport of manuscripts. Rather one finds in Byzantium from the very beginning a vibrant discussion of issues pertaining to man’s place in the universe and of his ultimate destiny.
For whether one considers the Iconoclastic Controversy, the Hesychastic movement, the rise of the Monastic movement, or the heated controversies between Barlaam and Palamas, all in some way involve a philosophical/theological public debate between rationalism and mysticism. The Byzantine world, unlike our own, is unique in that its religious passion filters into the everyday life of its inhabitants. Its religious concerns become concerns of daily life, and the controversies which ensue in the clarification of religious dogma are controversies that are not isolated within the narrowly defined interests of a few academics. Thus those who receive the classics from the Byzantines receive them in the context of an active influence within the lived experience of an entire civilization, one whose inhabitants accepted the reality of the spiritual as more certain than the ground upon which they walked.
Here again emerge several avenues of inquiry for the historian of philosophy that have not received sufficient attention in Western scholarship. Surely the impact of Byzantium upon the world of Islam and, conversely, the impact of Islam upon the Byzantine world, has not been clearly delineated. Serious questions remain as to how Arabian thought developed in a time when Byzantium held sway over a third of the civilized world. There has also not been adequate study given to the possible transmission of classical thought to influential Judaic scholars of 11th- and 12th-century Spain. These scholars’ concerns with how Aristotle affects the foundations of religious beliefs suggest a tantalizing affinity with the Byzantines’concerns as to how the classics related to the spiritual foundation of Christianity. Thus what apparently unites these three cultural focal points is not only their intense interest in classical thought, but also their coexistence at a time that is animated by a pervasive religious fervor such as the world has not seen since.
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However, for its own part, when Orthodoxy triumphed it sought to totally obliterate any vestige of its adversaries, so that the historical record today illustrates the telling moments of profound silence from those (for example, the Iconoclasts) who sought to question the cogency of Orthodox dogma. Consequently, and as Tatakis himself notes, the scholarly record is incomplete because of the destruction of priceless primary sources which would have enlightened researchers concerning the sort of argumentation that had been used by the critics of Orthodoxy in their confrontations with the Church. Moreover, even when Orthodoxy borrowed (as stated above, largely from the writers of classical Greece) for the purpose of presenting a coherent account of its basic tenets, it did so by first denigrating the validity of the pagan world’s intellectual achievements and then proceeding to ravage its texts. It distorted Aristotle and Plato so that they were of importance only insofar as they were made to predate the “truer” insights of Orthodox theology.
Here it should be kept in mind that the primary intent of theologians was not to achieve the correct understanding of classical texts, but to extract from these sources what seemed, to them, relevant for advancing the cause of their doctrine. This attitude of thought precipitated a delay in appreciating the significance of the classical achievement, a trend which was not reversed until Michael Psellos’s work (1018—96) focused on the need to see the ancients in their own unique context. Ironically, Orthodoxy’s taking from the classics forced it to respect, however reluctantly and/or unconsciously, the grandeur of the accomplishments of antiquity. This unavoidable infusion of a more liberating perspective, however, ultimately led to the demise of its centrality as a focal point of social and political influence.
Even in its moments of greatest cultural triumph, Byzantium’s religious bias stymied its success. The Code of Justinian heralded the opening of a new era in jurisprudence, one which fused to the foundation of Roman law the moral perspective of Christianity and its attendant philanthropia. However, in spite of this creative advance in setting forth laws to govern the human condition more equitably, in reality legal rights and civil privileges were denied to Jews, Armenians, Muslims, and especially—Greek pagans. According to Steven B. Bowman, “They were permitted to live in Christian lands; however, their quarters were to be segregated to prevent contamination of the Orthodox population through exposure to their heretical practices. Morcover, they should not be allowed more freedom than was necessary for their existence, so that they might be enticed to convert to the majority religion.”’’
For all of its faults, however, Byzantium did produce its own unique philosophical insights. As Tatakis notes, they are to be found mainly in the creative interpretation, adaptation, and eventual reawakening of the classical achievement within the confines of a Christian mysticism. The efforts of scholars to slowly reassert the importance of classical thought led to the rediscovery of the classical spirit, which ultimately received fuller attention during the Renaissance. Brave individuals like Photios, Pscllos, Italos, Plethon, Gregoras, and Kabasilas, among others, were willing to risk the displeasure of authority for the exploration of creative avenues of thought whercin reason prevailed against the garish specter of highly structured modes of interpretation. These scholars radiate like precious gems in an otherwise obscure icon. When carefully considered, their labors can be’said to have contributed significantly to the intellectual evolution of our own times.
It remains to be seen, therefore, whether with the emergence of Eastern Europe and the Middle East as primary areas of scholarly concern in the 21st century, scholars will demand that greater attention be given to the intellectual contributions of Byzantium. The latter hold the promise of providing an understanding of the origins which made possible the reawakening of the West. Without this new emphasis, the historical record will remain incomplete, and our appreciation of cultural achievement in the West will be shallow at best.
Nicholas J. Moutafakis Professor of Philosophy Cleveland State University Cleveland, 2001
Acknowled gments
I would like to thank and express my sincere gratitude to both Professor Argyro B. Tatakis of the Research Center for Greek and Roman Antiquity and of the National Hellenic Research Foundation, and to Ms. Nike Bakopoulou for their assistance, understanding, and guidance in the preparation of my translation of their late father’s work.
Over the years Professor John P. Anton’s encouragement and wise counsel have given me the strength to pursue this arduous task and see it to completion. His consenting to take time from his busy schedule to review the manuscript and write the preface for the English translation was most gracious. I must also express my sincerest thanks to Dr. Linos G. Benakis, Director of the Research Center for Greek Philosophy at the Academy of Athens, for providing needed material for the bibliograpies at the end of this volume. In preparing the initial draft ] must also express my deepest appreciation to my colleagues Professor Aphroditie Alexandrakis and Professor Ernest N. Poulos, as well as to Ms. Debbie Zeller, Mr. Michael D. Bohnert, and Mr. James Henry for their excellent work in proofreading the early draft. Also, I would be remiss if I were not to mention with gratitude the institutional support I received for my work from Cleveland State University’s College of Graduate Studies, through the office of its Vice Provost and Dean, Professor A. Harry Andrist, and from the superb staff of the Cleveland State University Library.
My gratitude would remain unexpressed if I did not thank as well several individuals who believed in the importance of this work with a passion that made it all happen in the end. First, Ms. Deborah Wilkes, editor at Hackett Jenevieve Maerker, and Ms. Abigail Coyle made the highly tedious work of production and proofreading wonderfully pleasant with their unfailing courtesy and patience. One's good fortune can be no more complete than in having Dr. Prudence Steiner polish the final copy with detailed editorial comments and helpful insights. Her contribution was immense, profound, and most gratefully received. Any imperfection in the final copy is due to my negligence and not to her.
Finally, but never lastly, | thank Mrs. E. M. Moutafakis for enduring my pursuit of this translation and the long hours it demanded.
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