Abstract
Late antique Gnosticism and Heidegger’s Existentialism are usually counted among the main theoretical targets of Hans Jonas’s philosophy of life and responsibility, since they are supposed to share the dualistic and nihilistic attitude the philosopher deemed most mistaken and pernicious. In particular, Gnosticism is commonly understood as the exact opposite of what Jonas strove to accomplish in his work. However, I think it is simplistic to relegate Gnosticism to a merely antagonistic role in the development of Jonas’s philosophy. My claim is that Gnosticism, being a non-nihilistic form of dualism, might have been a relevant source of inspiration – although not the only one – for amending the flaws of Heidegger’s Existentialism. By taking a closer look at the essay Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism, this article aims to clarify the critical and constructive role that Gnosticism might have played in shaping some of the major traits of Jonas’s thought. The first part of this essay deals with Jonas’s ‘gnostic reading’ of Heidegger’s Existentialism and highlights the positive insights drawn from such interpretative strategy. The second part focuses on three main motives in Jonas’s philosophy that may be traced back to the gnostic narrative: value objectivity and vulnerability, human responsibility and involvement in the history of being, and the sense of belonging to a wider dimension capable of providing orientation and meaning to human life.
Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism
The essay Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism, also known as Gnosticism and Modern Nihilism, marks Hans Jonas’s return to his contemporary philosophical scene after years of dedication to the study of gnostic movements. The importance of the essay vis-à-vis Jonas’s philosophical journey can hardly be underestimated and was clear to the philosopher himself, as testified by Jonas’s many recollections of his own intellectual journey (Jonas 1974, XI–XVIII; Jonas 1981; Jonas 2003, section 4; Jonas 2011, 16–19). As further evidence of its relevance, it is noteworthy that Jonas resumed, reworked, and reissued the article several times both in English and German. 1
As these considerations suggest, the essay played a crucial role in leading Jonas’s thought from Gnosticism to philosophical biology. This role, however, should not be understood in strictly chronological terms. Indeed, some of the main concepts of Jonas’s new research project had already been developed and refined by the time Gnosticism and Modern Nihilism appeared. 2 Nevertheless, only in this last essay Jonas took a step back from his new research path and offered a critical reading not just of his own philosophical experience so far, but also of his future objectives. Gnosticism and Modern Nihilism occupies a central place in Jonas’s production precisely because in its pages Jonas pinpoints the most fundamental issue he wishes to address, motivating the relevance of this choice and laying out the general guidelines of the philosophical task to which he would lend all his future efforts.
A gnostic reading of Existentialism
More specifically, in this essay Jonas strives to develop a theoretically adequate picture of the pivotal challenge that his philosophical biology was intended to address. To this aim, he tries to account for the philosophical genesis of the most critical issue around which his new research project was revolving. In order to do that, Jonas embarks upon a critique of Existentialism by cross-referencing it to Gnosticism. Although it is relatively unproblematic to realize what Jonas means by ‘Gnosticism’ – that is, the peculiar, historical way of existence he famously portrayed in Gnosis und spätantiker Geist and The Gnostic Religion 3 (Bonaldi 2010; Franzini Tibaldeo 2012; Frogneux 2017; Waldstein 2000) – the term ‘Existentialism’ is used in a rather peculiar sense (Zafrani 2013, 2015). Here, ‘Existentialism’ stands for a philosophical movement which is proper to modernity and finds its origin in Pascal’s realization of human ‘homelessness, forlornness, and dread’ (Jonas 2001a, 214) in face of the indifference of the physical universe. To the same trend belong Sartre’s thought and, most importantly, Martin Heidegger’s philosophy of Being and Time, which is undoubtedly the main target of Jonas’s critique (Vogel 1995, 1996). Although Heidegger is not the only ‘existentialist’ author Jonas takes into consideration, and since Jonas is well aware of the fact that the ‘later Heidegger’ (Jonas 2001a, 231) can no longer be considered an existentialist in this sense, it is evident that Jonas’s main concern in this occasion is with Being and Time.
In order to shed light on the core of his own philosophical project, Jonas carries out a ‘“gnostic” reading of Existentialism’ (Jonas 2001a, 213) targeted at highlighting the structural inconsistency of Heidegger’s position. Just as the philosophy of Being and Time proved to be so effective in the interpretation of the gnostic documents, Jonas writes, Gnosticism also provides an interesting perspective from which to evaluate Heidegger’s philosophy. The results of such counter-analysis, which I will discuss in the next pages, allow Jonas to uncover the key task of his new research project, that is, to find a third way between the incoherent dualism of Existentialism and the monistic naturalism of modern science (Jonas 2001a, 234). Whence the relevance of the essay in reference to Jonas’s overall production. But how could Jonas cross-read Gnosticism and Existentialism, considering how different these two cultural phenomena are?
There are two possible answers to this question. On the one hand, Heidegger’s ‘Existentialism’ may have unveiled a ‘key that would unlock every door’ (Jonas 2001a, 212), that is, the structural categories of human existence per se. Thanks to such structural categories, it would be possible to access any historically situated form of human existence and, thus, also that proper to the late antique gnostics. As thoroughly explained in sections 9–11 and 26 of the Introduction to Gnosis und spätantiker Geist I (Jonas 1988, 12–16, 90–1), this philosophical intuition supports the methodology Jonas developed and applied to his interpretation of the gnostic phenomena. By the same token, one may argue, different historical applications of the existential categories may offer new, significant materials to better understand or explore the meaning of the categories themselves. Still, since it is assumed that the categories presented in Being and Time are sufficient to make sense of any concrete form of human existence (at least potentially), no substantially critical evidence can actually be expected from rereading Existentialism in the light of any historically situated form of existence. The historical or existentiell level, as it were, can only enrich our grasp of the possibilities sustained by the transcendental essence of human existence, which nevertheless, as an existential structure, belongs to a different domain and simply cannot be revised or amended in light of existentiell evidence.
As the years passed, however, Jonas came to question this assumption. The suspicion arose that the reason why Heidegger’s existential categories worked so fine in highlighting the features of the gnostic principle did not lie in the transcendental status of such categories. On the contrary, the hermeneutical success obtained by his methodology, Jonas realized, was actually based in an existentiell analogy or affinity between two concrete ways of experiencing the world and the self. Gnosticism and Existentialism, in other words, represent analogous historical responses to analogous historical situations. So, what was true for the first book of Gnosis und spätantiker Geist would now seem to be rejected, at least partially. The relationship between Existentialism and Gnosticism is no longer framed on the existential level, but on the existentiell one. Which concrete element, then, justifies the interpretation of Gnosticism and Existentialism as analogous forms of existence?
The existentiell common denominator between Existentialism and Gnosticism appears to be, as the title of the essay suggests, nihilism (Bonaldi 2005). In fact, Jonas characterizes Gnosticism as a form of ‘ancient nihilism’ and thus as a system of thought substantially analogous to Existentialism as ‘modern nihilism’ (Jonas 2001a, 212; Jonas 2011, 18). It is precisely this affinity that makes the cross-reference not only possible, but also particularly fruitful. Nihilism, then, is the link that bridges Gnosticism and Existentialism throughout the centuries and across the many differences that still distinguish them. Comparing Existentialism and Gnosticism as diverse cultural expressions, but also as analogous forms of nihilism, helps Jonas clarify the features of that mode of understanding the self and the world which needed to be philosophically dismantled and ultimately overcome through a rediscovery of the inner value of life and human beings’ constitutive belonging to the world. Even though it is not to be forgotten that Jonas’s specific target is the philosophy of Being and Time, apparently Gnosticism and nihilism must be positioned in the same category of Existentialism, that is, in the set of flawed interpretations of the self and the world that need to be equally dismantled and overcome.
Overcoming Gnosticism?
As a result, Gnosticism has been considered from then on as an example of the fundamental position against which the philosopher would battle, that is, as the ‘theological foe that needs to be eradicated’ (Hotam 2007, 600). Jonas’s philosophy of life and responsibility is in fact commonly understood as a theoretical reaction to the dualistic and nihilistic attitude instantiated by cultural phenomena as different as Existentialism and Gnosticism (Bonaldi 2005; see also Cahana 2018, 176, note 29). According to this widespread view, then, Gnosticism, Existentialism, and nihilism are Jonas’s philosophical rivals. Jonas himself, after all, used to mention the gnostic system of thought as a main character of the pars destruens of his philosophy (Culianu 1985, 146–47, 149; Jonas 1974, XVIII; Jonas 2011, 16–19), 4 or simply to dismiss the question concerning the connection between his study on the gnostic religion and his philosophy of life and responsibility (Jonas 1993a).
In my opinion, however, it is simplistic to relegate Gnosticism to a merely antagonistic role in the development of Jonas’s philosophy (Cahana 2018; Fossa 2014). More specifically, I think that Jonas’s critique of dualism must be kept separated from his critique of nihilism, since the argumentative strategies involved in the two cases are significantly different. While both Gnosticism and Existentialism, as Jonas depicts them, are unmistakably dualistic positions, and as such must be overcome (Hotam 2009), it is utterly problematic to apply Jonas’s notion of nihilism to Gnosticism as well, considered this is an anticosmic movement. On the contrary, Jonas’s definition of nihilism applies perfectly to Existentialism, in that it is an acosmic movement. Therefore, Jonas’s critique of nihilism is mostly a critique of Existentialism that cannot be extended to the gnostic religion. Gnosticism, on the contrary, helped Jonas both identify the shortcomings of the nihilistic–existentialistic attitude and rectify them. 5 This last critique, finally, showed in all its relevance the need to find a path to reconcile human beings and nature which, at the same time, would not lose sight of their respective determinacy.
In sum, I think that the gnostic religion might have played both a critical and constructive role in shaping Jonas’s critique of Existentialism and nihilism, even though the philosopher did not openly acknowledge this himself nor did he ever thematize this explicitly. As regards Gnosticism, then, Jonas’s interpretation of his own intellectual journey may be partially challenged. In what follows, I will try to show to what extent Gnosticism may have positively contributed to the definition and fulfillment of Hans Jonas’s philosophical task.
The critical role
The first step toward reassessing the weight of Gnosticism in Jonas’s overall philosophy consists in adequately acknowledging the critical role that the gnostic framework plays in his critique of Being and Time. As already mentioned, Jonas ties Gnosticism and Existentialism through a nihilistic attitude toward the self and the world. This likeness, however, should not be accounted for by reference to the inner structure of human existence. On the contrary, it consists in an analogous historical disposition toward worldly existence. As a result, Jonas notes, many constructs and terms which characterize Heidegger’s philosophy of Dasein strikingly resemble gnostic ideas. In a way, the existentialist analysis of the human condition seems to rely on the gnostic logos.
Indeed, the gnostic believer and the Dasein appear to share more than one trait. This existentiell continuity comes to surface along three main lines at least: the category of thrownness, the link between world and inauthenticity, and the dynamics of call and awakening. Both the gnostic believer and the Dasein are estranged from the world, foreigners in an unfamiliar land, homeless, and full of dread. They feel as if they were thrown in a hostile environment where they experience anguish and distress. They find themselves cast in a dimension they are not able to recognize as their own and dwell in. Dealing with worldly objects and subjects stuns them and makes them oblivious of their true essence. The otherness of nature and the loudness of common sense threaten their authentic existence, to which they are called from their most inner side. In both cases, ordinary life is described through metaphors of intoxication, incarceration, and numbness. However, those who are able to suspend the noise that rises from the world can reach the silence where the true call can be heard. Only those become awake and exist authentically (Jonas 1988, 106–40; Jonas 2001a, 229; Jonas 2001b, 62–91).
Such affinity of language and content between Existentialism and Gnosticism, later acknowledged by other authors as well (Galimberti 1989; Taubes 1954; Volpi 1989), is without any doubt an influential accomplishment and likely to explain the popularity of the essay (Lazier 2003, 635). Even though the essay spends many words exploring the affinity between Gnosticism and Existentialism, the central point is nonetheless that the two systems of thought are fundamentally dissimilar. The gnostic myth, in fact, is not only pertinent for its linguistic and thematic affinity with Existentialism, but more importantly for its structural difference. Jonas identifies precisely in this divergence the key weakness of Existentialism and builds his argument on how to overcome it on this basis. Even though it is usually the similarity between the two movements that gets underscored, due attention should also be paid to the way in which the gnostic singularity brings into focus the flaws of Existentialism.
A structural difference
In the last sections of the essay, Jonas claims that Existentialism is based on paradoxical grounds. Although the philosophy of Being and Time follows the gnostics’ lead in characterizing the self and the world, it radically rejects the mythical and metaphysical background against which the gnostic language and constructs only make sense. The rigor of thinking, in fact, cannot admit the extravagancy of the gnostic mythology and speculation. As ‘conceptual, sophisticated, and eminently “modern”’ (Jonas 2001a, 211) as it is, Existentialism does not share the bizarre crudity that characterizes the gnostic imagination. Thus, even if the gnostic description of worldly existence is accepted, the wider mythical tale – of which such description is but a section – is almost surgically removed. However, the scar that this cut leaves behind cannot be easily hidden. The gnostic account of human life and its mythic background are components that belong to each other: They cannot be abstractly separated without disrupting their meaning and coherence. By putting the mythic picture aside in order to recast the gnostic interpretation of human existence in a philosophically rigorous fashion, Heidegger condemns his own interpretation to an inescapable condition of self-inconsistency.
The structural deficiency that comes with Heidegger’s secularization of Gnosticism (Hotam 2007), as it were, shows itself most evidently in the category of thrownness that the philosopher provides in Being and Time (Heidegger 1996, 126–31). This category, in Jonas’s opinion, is nonsensical as used by Heidegger, since it is deprived of a constitutive element. In fact, the general notion of thrownness belongs primarily to the gnostic frame: It accounts for human beings’ position in the universe by explaining their role in the Unknown God’s drama. As such, this category displays a singular dependent structure: It requires a thrown (what), a provenience (wherefrom), a destination (whereto), and a motive (why) or a thrower (who). In the gnostic framework, the mythic narrative serves the precise purpose of providing an answer to the question as to ‘where we were, wherein we have been thrown’ (Clemens Alex., Exc. Ex Theod. [78.2] quoted by Jonas 2001a, 228). The category of thrownness makes sense, then, only if there is a dimension from which what is thrown was thrown and if an overall account of such act is possible. By rejecting the metaphysical background of the gnostic narrative without providing any analogous framework, at least in Being and Time, Heidegger cuts off a necessary constituent of thrownness. In other words, the existential category of thrownness fails to address the questions that the idea of thrownness itself arises, thus condemning Dasein to be ‘a project from nothingness into nothingness’ (Jonas 2001a, 232). On the contrary, since the gnostics inscribed their idea of thrownness within the myth of God’s cosmic misadventure, their system is consistent – in a word, it structurally makes sense and, thus, ‘gives direction to existence’ (Jonas 2001a, 233).
What nihilism?
Jonas’s diagnosis of the structural inconsistency of Heidegger’s philosophy emerges through a critical comparison between Existentialism and Gnosticism that may surprise the reader. The essay, in fact, is almost entirely dedicated to exploring the nihilistic affinity of the two systems of thought. However, it is not easy to realize in what sense Gnosticism and Existentialism can be both qualified as nihilistic movements and still exhibit such a decisive difference. In order to clarify this point, it is necessary to focus on how, in Jonas’s view, Gnosticism and Existentialism endorse the nihilistic perspective. Since the two systems display a thematic affinity, the difference between them must not be searched in their fundamental principle, but in the different ways in which such principle is assumed and developed. According to this viewpoint, Jonas seems to suggest, Gnosticism provides a coherent and generally consistent background to the nihilistic account of the human condition, but lacks in rigor and accuracy. Existentialism, on the other hand, brings the nihilistic principle to its most radical outcomes but, in so doing, inevitably condemns itself to instability.
Such explanation of the different nihilisms displayed by Existentialism and Gnosticism, which may recall Nietzsche’s and Heidegger’s distinction between incomplete and completed nihilism (Heidegger 1977 , 69–70; der un/vollständige Nihilismus in Heidegger 2003, 225–26), is however unsatisfactory. How can a system of thought be nihilistic, but not in a radical manner? Nihilism is essentially radical. Whatever cannot pass the exam of the most severe scrutiny must be deconstructed and ultimately discarded. Every self-deception of the human spirit, no matter how ancient or widespread, falls into pieces under the blows of its uncompromising hammer. To the nihilistic mind, mythic narratives and speculative metaphysics are illusions that the thinker must find the courage to dismiss. Therefore, either one view is nihilistic, or it is not. That being said, there is no reason to doubt that, in Jonas’s eyes, Existentialism displayed the radical intensity that characterizes nihilism. However, the same does not apply to Gnosticism, which is ‘the very opposite of an abandonment of transcendence’ (Jonas 2001a, 225). In characterizing Gnosticism as a form of nihilism, then, Jonas seems to force this cultural phenomenon into a category that does not fit it. In truth, the notion of nihilism Jonas has in mind here is more complex than it may appear and, thus, requires some further clarifications.
In the essay, Jonas seems to define nihilism as a practical attitude centered on the creative, self-affirmative power of will. In addition, such attitude is explicitly linked to the recognition of being’s value neutrality, which serves as ontological support to the attitude itself. In his own words, nihilism marks ‘the loss of the very possibility of obligatory values as such’ (Jonas 2001a, 225), which reflects itself in ‘a concept of man characterized solely by will and power – the will for power, the will to will’ (Jonas 2001a, 216). Accordingly, nihilism appears to be identified with an extreme form of subjectivism, which ultimately leads to the ‘absolute victory of nominalism over realism’ (Jonas 2001a, 232). Following Heidegger’s 1943 essay The Word of Nietzsche: “God is dead” (Heidegger 1977, 53–113), Jonas reads Nietzsche’s famous sentence of God’s death as the final recognition of the impossibility to ground values in anything but human will. Abandoned to themselves as they are, human beings can either find shelter in illusions and deceptions, or fiercely assume their distressing indetermination. Nihilism is the general background against which the existential category of thrownness must be understood and, at the same time, apparently the only one left for the modern mind. In Jonas’s view, then, the essence of nihilism consists in the self-affirmation of will based on the realization of being’s value neutrality: ‘A universe without an intrinsic hierarchy of being (…) leaves values ontologically unsupported, and the self is thrown back entirely upon itself in its quest for meaning and value’ (Jonas 2001a, 215).
In light of the above, it becomes hard to picture in what sense Gnosticism can be considered to be a form of ancient nihilism. None of the claims Jonas recalls in order to characterize nihilism, in fact, actually applies to Gnosticism. The gnostic religion does not teach the destruction of all objective values, but only of the worldly ones. The gnosis conveys a myth which has precisely the purpose of revealing an absolute value – the pneuma – and of discrediting anything that does not share its essence. Consequently, in the gnostic system the value-creating role of human will is none. Gnosticism is entirely alien to both subjectivism and nominalism. The relevance of the pneuma intrinsically inheres in it and, thus, does not depend on human will. The spiritual fragments scattered throughout the world are valuable to the gnostics due to their ontological status. Therefore, the gnostic believers are not supposed to exercise the mere power of their own will; they are supposed to embrace the message of the Stranger God and to cherish what it reveals. The fact that the human soul hides a pneumatic particle frames the act of believing in a much wider process that involves God’s life and indeed the whole reality. Within this framework, the roles that the gnostics ought to play do not require creativity or improvisation, but adherence to the plan. The encapsulated pneuma symbolizes an entire conception about substantial values, recommended modes of conduct, and eschatological rituals. For these reasons, by no means the gnostic movement can be reduced to a form of nihilism, at least as long as this implies grounding values exclusively on acts of will. Considering this, what does Jonas mean by qualifying Gnosticism as ancient nihilism?
Nihilism and dualism
In order to answer this question, it is necessary to dig deeper into the multiple layers that constitute Jonas’s notion of nihilism. Since the application of nihilism to Gnosticism cannot evidently be based on the philosophy of will, then it must have to do with the second main nihilistic tenet according to Jonas, that is, being’s value neutrality. As a matter of fact, Jonas seems to interpret the gnostic devaluation of nature as an ancient kin of the modern neutralization of being. The juxtaposition of the two attitudes insists upon the similar dualistic ontology they endorse, according to which the difference between human beings and nature is not of degree, but of essence. 6 Due to this difference, the realm of nature is silent regarding what concerns human life: It neither supports values nor suggests any normative line of conduct. In this sense, dualism is a form of nihilism since, as Jonas states, it does not elicit ‘any positive relation to the sensible world’ (Jonas 2001a, 225).
Sure enough, neither Gnosticism nor Existentialism find in nature a guide to human existence or a source of objective values. On the contrary, they both overturn the ancient Greek ideas of the world as kosmos and of human beings as homogeneous parts of an ordered whole (Fossa 2017). It is also beyond doubt that Jonas’s description of the gnostic system of thought is dualistic, 7 as is his understanding of Existentialism. At first sight, thus, dualism seems to be essentially connected to nihilism: Gnosticism and Existentialism are similar to each other since they both embody a nihilistic principle, which in turn incorporates a dualistic ontology. Gnosticism, Existentialism, nihilism, and dualism, in sum, seem to stem from the same family tree; and since, as it is well known, dualism in its many historical forms is undoubtedly one of Jonas’s main philosophical opponents, it appears that Gnosticism must be counted among his polemical targets as well.
However, the relation between dualism and nihilism is not as plain as it may seem. It is, on the contrary, highly problematic to bind dualism to nihilism, since dualism does not imply by itself any specific claim concerning either the relation between will and value or, consequently, the value neutrality of being. The neutralization of being proper to nihilism is just one of the possible outcomes that may be derived from the assumption of a dualistic stance toward reality. A dualistic ontology can indeed give rise to a metaphysics in which being supports values, that is, to systems of thought capable to present normative claims that are supposed to hold independently from human will. Nihilistic forms of dualism cut off any reference to transcendence as a value-grounding dimension and, as a consequence, deliver human existence to itself. However, the idea of deconstructing transcendent illusions belongs exclusively to nihilism, not to dualism. In sum, there can be non-nihilistic forms of dualism, of which Gnosticism is an example.
Anticosmism and acosmism
In the gnostic religion, in fact, being is not value free. On the contrary, it is essentially qualified and, as such, it limits the power of human will and gives direction to human life. Being, however, does not coincide with nature, but with pneuma; and since nature stands in opposition to pneuma, it is also normatively qualified – in negative terms (Jonas 1988, 146–56; Jonas 2001b, 241–53). The gnostics believe that nature (body and soul included) is a demonic, intrinsically negative element, which they need to fight against and be purified of. The message from the Stranger God reveals that nature threatens what is truly valuable. It is the positive, objective value of pneuma that causes nature to be correspondingly evil. Nothing, then, is neutral in the gnostic view. Gnostic anticosmism derives from a positive system of values inherent in being and, as such, independent from human will. Moreover, the gnosis gives a precise direction to the believers’ life, providing a neat distinction between good and evil and orientation to conduct. Gnosticism does not preach ‘the disruption between man and total reality’ that ‘is at the bottom of nihilism’ (Jonas 2001a, 234), but exclusively the disruption between man and the partial, second-rate reality of nature. As an anticosmic movement, Gnosticism is a non-nihilistic form of dualism.
In the existentialist view, on the other hand, nature is a neutral and indifferent element that finds meaning only as resource, instrument, or obstacle – that is, in connection to human will. This last account of nature – which may be defined acosmism – is unmistakably nihilistic: Depriving nature of any value, be it positive or negative, and insisting on the creative power of human will are two sides of the same coin. Once a dualistic perspective is adopted but any reference to a transcendent dimension that may account for nature dissimilarity has fallen out of reach, all that remains is human industriousness as opposed to nature passivity or usability. The precedents of such disposition must not be found in the gnostic religion but, I would rather say, somewhere in between Descartes’ dualism of substances and Bacon’s idea of modern science (Jonas 2001a, 188–210). In this scenario, human beings do not play a role in a much more complex drama, but are the main characters of their own story and the stage is at their complete disposal. As the most radical acosmic movement, Existentialism is a nihilistic form of dualism.
To sum up, acosmism is a nihilistic form of dualism, while anticosmism is not. Perhaps nihilism requires dualism as an unavoidable condition, but dualism does not in turn necessarily imply nihilism. If the irreducibility of dualism to nihilism goes unnoticed, it becomes impossible to realize that the nihilistic attitude toward nature, which Existentialism endorses as well, is importantly different from that endorsed by Gnosticism. Therefore, even if Gnosticism remains a philosophical adversary as a dualistic system that profoundly misinterprets nature and its connection to humanity through life, it nonetheless offers precious indications on why Existentialism is problematic. The difference between acosmism and anticosmism, combined with the acknowledgment of the latter’s non-nihilistic character, provided Jonas with a clear understanding of where to look, in order to diagnose the nihilistic dead-end of Heidegger’s philosophy. Existentialism is problematic since it is a nihilistic form of Gnosticism and, as such, cannot but be incoherent. This is the critical contribution that Gnosticism provides to Jonas’s philosophy. The gnostic reading of Existentialism uncovers the latter’s structural inconsistency and thus pinpoints what exactly ought to be revised. The importance of this step for Jonas’s philosophy does not need to be restated. What does need to be emphasized, however, is the critical role played by Gnosticism in such critique – a role that cannot be properly acknowledged unless Gnosticism is freed from its interpretation as a form of ancient nihilism or, rather, ancient Existentialism.
The constructive role
As shown in the previous section, although Gnosticism has been understood mostly as a polemical target of Jonas’s thought, a reconsideration of its multilayered connection to Existentialism and nihilism seems to suggest that the place it occupies in Jonas’s philosophy should be reassessed, at least partially. Sure enough, the dualistic character of Gnosticism and its singular demonization of nature evidently clash with Jonas’s philosophical intentions. Nevertheless, the specific structure of the gnostic myth, once compared to the structure of Heidegger’s philosophy of existence, helped Jonas get a clearer picture of the modern nihilistic attitude and, thus, of its most fundamental flaws. Since Gnosticism offered valuable insight into the central issue of modern nihilism, it should not be reduced to one of Jonas’s incompatible opponents.
The gnostic contribution to the critique of the nihilistic principle, however, is not the only evidence that supports the need of reassessing the relevance of the gnostic religion with regard to Jonas’s overall work. In addition to playing a critical role in underscoring the inconsistency of Existentialism, Gnosticism may have exercised also a constructive influence on Jonas’s attempt to tackle the shortcomings of Heidegger’s nihilistic philosophy. The gnostic religion, in other words, may have positively inspired Jonas in his search for an adequate understanding of the relation between human life and being after Sein und Zeit. Accordingly, I think it is possible to find some crucial passages in Jonas’s philosophy of life and responsibility that re-elaborate gnostic elements in order to overcome the nihilistic temper.
Unlike the analogy between Existentialism and Gnosticism, Jonas’s creative reprise of gnostic constructs should not be expected to concern thematic affinities. Dualism is a defining character of Jonas’s account of the gnostic religion and, as such, it prevents any overlapping with his monistic project 8 in terms of content. For this reason, it would be too strong a claim to suggest any actual kinship between Jonas’s philosophy and the gnostic myth. Nonetheless, the specific difference that separates Gnosticism and Existentialism may have provided Jonas with an outline, a formal framework capable not just of revealing, but also addressing the structural issues of Heidegger’s thought. Giving new substance to these structural suggestions may have encouraged Jonas on his risky but engaging path between acosmic dualism and undifferentiated, reductive monism.
In my opinion, it is possible to identify at least three main motives in Jonas’s philosophy that may be traced back to the gnostic narrative: value objectivity and vulnerability, human cooperation and responsibility, and the sense of belonging. These traits, which define Jonas’s philosophy of life and responsibility, are direct answers to issues raised by Existentialism as a form of nihilism. At the same time, they recall patterns of thought that, in the gnostic framework, played the analogous role of providing orientation and meaning to human life. Although the similarity does not extend beyond an analogy of functions executed in a wider framework, the influence of Gnosticism on such nodal points is nonetheless relevant and worth exploring. These three motives represent the constructive contributions that the gnostic religion offered to Jonas’s overcoming of nihilism and, in addition to the critical role previously examined, demonstrate the necessity to keep an open mind concerning the possibility of a gnostic influence on Jonas’s philosophy.
Value objectivity and vulnerability
Let us start with value objectivity and vulnerability. As already mentioned, the core idea of the gnostic religion is that spiritual particles, or pneuma, are scattered throughout the world and, thus, need to be extracted from it so that the unity and perfection of the divine reign, the pleroma, may be recomposed. The gnosis, the eschatological message, reveals to the believers what is valuable and what is not, so that they may play their part in the process of divine reconstruction (Jonas 2001b, 42–47). The importance of pneuma derives directly from its essence, which identifies with its provenience. 9 Pneuma is valuable in itself and requires to be acknowledged as such. Therefore, in the gnostic religion value is primarily an ontological character that inheres to a particular substance, and only secondarily an object of human consideration that must be affirmed as practically valuable. Before being a representation of practical reason, value is a character of being. As such, it must be perceived, accepted, and cherished. The gnostic believers must not create their own value since they find it in the world. In other words, value is not primarily an object of will, but one of perception.
However, the fact that pneuma is valuable in itself does not imply its self-sufficiency. The relevance of pneuma does not flow from its autonomy, but, as it were, from its preciousness. As precious pearls or priceless treasures, the spiritual particles are hidden away in nature and forcefully kept separated from their original place. 10 In our world, pneuma suffers a condition of imprisonment, fragmentation, and distress, in a way mirroring the condition of human beings themselves. Pneuma is at the mercy of stronger forces against which it cannot compete just by itself. It exists as a weak, faint light cast in a dimension of darkness and threat. 11 However, in the same dimension shimmers the chance for pneuma to be noticed, protected, and finally extracted by the believers, who have the power to steal it from the evil mundane gods and return it to where it belongs. The world is not only a prison, but also a battlefield. Consequently, pneuma as value exists in the mode of vulnerability and need: ‘the need for revelation’, writes Jonas (1974, 270), ‘is inherent in the paralyzed innercosmic condition of the captive spirit’.
Such peculiar combination of value objectivity and vulnerability, which Jonas found in the gnostic texts, strongly recalls his qualification of life as value. First, Jonas’s phenomenology of life is inseparable from its ethical significance. As often stressed, the philosopher dared to challenge the so-called Hume’s law and trod the ancient path that leads from being to value. Just as the value of pneuma is not subjective, but lies in its ontological status, so Jonas grounds the value of life in its specific ontological feature of exhibiting an interest for itself. In Jonas’s opinion, life presents itself as value due to its objective character of being self-centered and, thus, a value to itself (Vogel 1995). As the value of all possible values, life demands recognition as the most precious and revolutionary event in the history of being. It is of course up to one’s own will to acknowledge, ignore, or deny this evidence. Yet, Jonas’s argument has the precise purpose to demonstrate the objective continuity between the ontology of life and the ethics of responsibility toward life. To this extent, Jonas’s philosophical biology and the gnosis are functionally analogous: They show that what is valuable is there to be perceived, not to be created.
In addition, life is characterized in the most vulnerable terms (Becchi 2008; Becchi and Franzini Tibaldeo 2016). Organisms are described as involved in an everlasting struggle for resources and control, the outcome of which is never assured. Moreover, it seems that the higher levels of complexity life reaches, which increases its worth, the more its existence becomes perilous and risky. In the case of human life, for example, it seems that the more we carelessly exploit our technological potential, the more life in general is endangered. The objectivity of value is not at all a guarantee of its full-blown realization or permanence. On the contrary, life needs to endorse and cherish itself as valuable in order to fully blossom, that is, to exhibit all its worth, and thrive. The mode in which both pneuma and organisms exist as values is not permanent and incontrovertible self-assurance, but continuous and open-ended self-affirmation through risk-taking. This is why they are valuable as if they were precious objects, and not perfect ideals: They exist in time, exposed to historical events, and can be lost.
The way in which pneuma and life manifest themselves as values to human beings is also analogous and mirrors our historical situatedness. Given their weak status, both pneuma and life cannot but reach human beings in the form of a plea, a call, 12 an appeal, or an outcry (Jonas 1984, 8, 84–6, 131; Jonas 1996, 198–202) that asks to be listened to, answered, and upheld. What is truly valuable is also vulnerable: It is constantly threatened by outside forces and more or less in a situation of danger. For the same reason, this kind of value is not self-sufficient: It needs to reach out to others who may be able to care for it – it metaphorically cries for help. The hermeneutic metaphor of the appeal 13 is used by Jonas several times in order to explain how the ontological evidence of life’s value is supposed to break through the walls of human conscience and initiate the process of recognition. The ontological evidence and the appeal are actually the very same thing from the different points of view of theoretic and practical knowledge. In other words, the appeal is the way in which the ontological evidence of value becomes an object of practical reason. Life, as the pneuma, is thought as an inclusive and engaging form of value: It asks for attention and care.
Human cooperation and responsibility
The observations concerning value objectivity and vulnerability directly lead to the second pattern of thought I wish to consider, that is, human cooperation and responsibility. As already stated, in both the gnostic religion and Jonas’s philosophy self-sufficiency is not a character of value. If value is both objective and vulnerable, then it requires assistance in order to thrive. Therefore, the concept of value as proposed in this context displays an ecstatic nature: It bears in itself a call on others, a reference outward. This concept of value presupposes that some entity, which is different from it but shares with it the same dimension of existence, enjoys the possibility of perceiving its call and getting in contact with it. Both in the gnostic religion and in Jonas’s philosophy, human beings are thought to be such responding entities.
Hence, a specific reference to human conscience inheres in value. From the fact that human beings exhibit the capacity of lending their ears to the appeal and understanding its relevance follows that their task is objectively determined. Moreover, if it is in our power to listen to the appeal and care for it, then do so we shall – for, of course, it is certainly possible to close our ears to it and create our own surrogate values. So, to carry out the task is human beings’ duty: The appeal of value is a call of duty. But since vulnerability implies struggle between opposite forces, the appeal is also a call to arms. Value requires human beings to take a stand and fight for it. Human existence thus acquires an agonistic trait: What is valuable and vulnerable deserves to be actively protected and consciously affirmed against those who threaten it or do not care for it. In this situation, human care and commitment are the flip side of the mode in which value exists, being it pneuma 14 or life. The dialectics of call and response is a constituent component of conceiving value in terms of objectivity and vulnerability.
According to this perspective, value launches an appeal that, once received, becomes obligation, duty, and responsibility. The tension between the two poles of value vulnerability and human responsibility is the defining element of this position. Human beings, gnostic or modern, are thus subjects to a three-pronged kind of responsibility: cognitive, practical, and ontological. 15
First, human beings bear responsibility of acknowledging the objective value, which in turn implies on the one hand the practical duty to open themselves to the appeal, and on the other the cognitive duty of becoming aware of the ontological foundation of value. For the gnostic believers, this is the religious responsibility of being prepared to receive the gnosis and of meditating on its mythical content. 16 For modern humanity, as Jonas wishes it to be, this instead consists in the cognitive responsibility of rediscovering nature as a source of value both in an ethical and theoretical sense. In other words, human beings are responsible both for lending their ears to the appeal of life and for revising the alienating conceptualization of nature that characterizes modern nihilism.
Second, human beings bear the responsibility of adjusting their own behavior according to what they learnt. This, in turn, entails the duty of caring, that is, to adopting a way of conduct which would first and foremost take into account the vulnerability of value and its subsequent needs. In this sense, the gnostic believers are responsible for the particles of pneuma they may release from the world through ritualistic or ‘virtuous’ practices – it depends on the different doctrines whether ascetic or licentious, but the goal is the same. 17 Modern human beings, on the other hand, are responsible for the preservation of life on this planet and should thus behave in accordance with the imperative of responsibility.
Third, human beings bear responsibility even for the general condition of the whole being. In a sense, the entire reality puts expectations on human behavior, since, as it were, the value of being depends on it. 18 Correspondingly, human behavior impinges on the very fabric of what is real and what is valuable. Human beings have the actual power of either concurring to the fulfillment of value or hindering it, possibly with incontrovertible results. If what is truly worthy carries in itself the meaning of being, but needs humans to fulfill itself, then humans are responsible for no less than being itself. The position that humans occupy in this framework is not only central, since it mediates between what is and what ontologically should be, but decisive, since failure is a real possibility.
This last kind of responsibility, which formally applies to both Jonas’s philosophy and the gnostic myth, cannot be thematically more heterogeneous in the two cases. The gnostic believers, in fact, are responsible for being as pneuma, which conversely means that they are responsible for ensuring nature is annihilated. On the contrary, Jonas claims that human beings must assume the responsibility they happen to have for being as nature in general and life in particular, which is threatened by our technologically enhanced agency and consumerist lifestyle. However, the relationship between the believers and pneuma in Gnosticism, on the one hand, and that between human beings and life in Jonas’s philosophy, on the other, is functionally analogous.
Interlude: Gnostic image symbolism
Jonas’s reprise of the gnostic image symbolism in the essay Immortality and the Modern Temper (Jonas 2001a, 262–81) illustrates well the two points of contact between Gnosticism and Jonas’s philosophy that have been addressed so far. This is actually one of the very few passages in the philosopher’s oeuvre in which the constructive role of Gnosticism surfaces explicitly. Besides, the two essays Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism and Immortality and the Modern Temper are deeply connected. Even though they were published almost 10 years away from one another, they address the very same issue, albeit from different points of view. It is no coincidence, then, that Jonas collected the two essays in his 1963 German book Zwischen Nichts und Ewigkeit – along with the essay on Homo Pictor, where problems concerning presence, images, and likeness are addressed as well.
The closeness of the two essays concerns the problem of presence and permanence. In Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism, Jonas diagnoses the annihilation of the present in Heidegger’s philosophy of existence, crushed as it is by the all-encompassing past and the looming future. Based on these considerations, Jonas stresses the concurrent impossibility for existentialists to get in touch with a dimension of permanence, or eternity, in which to dwell meaningfully. Thus, from an existentialist perspective, human beings are caught in a ‘breathless dynamism’ that just ‘thrusts ahead’ without any final aim or external support (Jonas 2001a, 231). This trait, again, is missing in the gnostic religion, which provides both a final aim and external support. In Immortality and the Modern Temper, Jonas sets out instead to look for a conception of immortality – that is, permanence or eternity – which may still be acceptable to the modern mind. Even though it is clear that ‘the modern temper is uncongenial to the idea of immortality’ (Jonas 2001a, 262), Jonas thinks, ‘any possible hold which the idea, even in its present eclipse, may still have, or reclaim, on our secularized estate’ (Jonas 2001a, 263) is nonetheless worth investigating. Here, therefore, Jonas tries to overcome the nihilistic principle of Being and Time by providing a new wider background to it, following the formal clues gained in his gnostic reading of Existentialism.
It should not wonder, then, that Jonas relies on the gnostic imagery in order to express his proposition. The philosopher suggests to conceive eternity as a sort of ‘eternal image’ of human ethical self-awareness in its relations to ‘the spiritual totality of images that evergrowingly sums up the record of being and will be different for our deeds’ (Jonas 2001a, 269). In other words, Jonas thinks that modern humanity may still relate to a conception of eternity according to which what endures is an image of ourselves that changes depending on the quality of our deeds.
The eternal image seems to have two main functions. In its full integrity, on the one hand, the eternal image orientates human actions by offering a model to which be similar, that is, a regulative ideal. In a way, Jonas seems to rethink Nietzsche’s idea of eternal recurrence here. By acting in accordance with the eternal image, that is, by imitating it, we are ready to see ourselves, in an eternal recurrence of things, when our turn comes round, and again we stand poised as now, blind as now, unaided as now – to see ourselves making the same decision again, and ever again, always passing the same imaginary test, endlessly reaffirming what is yet each time only once. (Jonas 2001a, 269)
To sum up, human beings ‘act as if in the face of eternity’ (Jonas 2001a, 269) for two main reasons. First, in the crucial moment of decision human beings get in touch with the image of Man in its integrity, which should be preserved by concretizing it through action but may also be disregarded and spoiled. Second, by affecting the features of such image, human actions leave marks on the totality of images of being as well, which thus bears on itself the signs of human deeds eternally. Eternity as the irreversible double that permanently bears the signs left behind by human agency: This, according to Jonas, may be an idea that the modern temper can still find significant.
Both the image of Man, which relentlessly mirrors historical human beings’ ethical self-awareness, and the idea of a totality of images of being, which mirrors the condition of value in its concrete existence, are inspired by the gnostic mythical notion of a ‘transcendent “Image” filled in, feature by feature, by our temporal deeds’ (Jonas 2001a, 272). The human side is linked to the ‘conception of the celestial double of the terrestrial self, which the departing soul will meet after death’ (Jonas 2001a, 272). The universal side derives instead from the ‘Last Image’, the ‘collective version of the image symbolism, which connects our deeds not with a perpetuity of our separate selves but with the consummation of the divine self’ (Jonas 2001a, 273).
It has to be noticed that these gnostic images, through which is explored the possibility of a direct influence of contingency on what is most valuable, are much more pertinent than the Jewish image of the Book of Life, also introduced by Jonas (Jonas 2001a, 271–2; Franzini Tibaldeo 2011). Indeed, the image of the Book of Life alludes to the permanence of human deeds as well, since God is thought to fill out ‘a kind of heavenly ledger wherein our “names” shall be inscribed according to our deserts’ (Jonas 2001a, 271). However, the image does not hint at any dynamics either of similarity or of direct influence from the dimension of history to that of value. In no way God is directly endangered by human actions. The essence of God is not at stake. So, Jonas has to modify the image (Lawee 2015, 94ff) and transforms it into ‘a different concept of the Book whereby it fills with deeds rather than names’, so that it would represent ‘the possibility that deeds inscribe themselves in an eternal memoir of time’ (Jonas 2001a, 272), which coincides with the very existence of value. This last, pivotal element is to be found only in the gnostic imagery.
In this case, Gnosticism figures as a positive source of inspiration, which provides Jonas with formal guidelines to address the central issue posed by Existentialism as a form of nihilism. As the philosopher himself wrote, the gnostic ‘motif of the total “image” can speak to us’ (Jonas 2001a, 274), despite its several incompatibilities with the modern mind. The relevance of what such symbolism can suggest vis-à-vis Jonas’s philosophy is hard to deny, as it is shown by the paragraph that immediately precedes his own well-known mythical narrative: In the temporal transactions of the world, whose fleeting now is ever swallowed by the past, an eternal presence grows, its countenance slowly defining itself as it is traced with the joys and sufferings, the triumphs and defeats of divinity in the experiences of time, which thus immortally survive. Not the agents, which must ever pass, but their acts enter into the becoming godhead and indelibly form his never decided image. God’s own destiny, his doing or undoing, is at stake in this universe to whose unknowing dealings he committed his substance, and man has become the eminent repository of this supreme and every betrayable trust. In a sense, he holds the fate of deity in his hands. (Jonas 2001a, 274)
The sense of belonging
The reflection on the gnostic image symbolism also uncovers the third and last point of contact that I identified at the beginning of this section, that is, the sense of belonging. The need of evoking a sense of belonging in human beings by indicating a dimension wherein they could significantly dwell represents perhaps the most fundamental affinity between the gnostic religion and Jonas’s thought. By placing humanity within a complex context that sets forth value by itself, both Gnosticism 19 and Jonas’s philosophy provide humanity with a wider framework where it could find its proper place.
In Immortality and the Modern Temper, human beings are invited to realize their influence on the totality of images of being – that is, on God’s image itself. The fact alone that human actions affect such totality proves that human beings belong to its narrative. As characters in such drama, human beings have a script to follow: Their lives, through the acts they perform, find orientation and meaning in this script. Through action, human beings paint at the same time their own picture and the picture of the whole being. Human belonging to a wider context in which value is objective and vulnerable is so deep that human beings, through their actions, actually hold the fate of such value – or of God – in their hands. Human existence, far from being closed off and left to itself, is the most central part of an evolving totality that actually depends on it.
In the nontheological frame of Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism, the need of rediscovering a dimension of belonging leads Jonas not to the transcendent universe of gnostic literature, but to his most fundamental thesis: Life, and by extension nature, must be the dimension to which human beings belong and wherein they can meaningfully dwell. In the existentialist–nihilistic view, however, nature is an entirely indifferent object that displays no reference to human existence and, thus, can be used at will. The ‘presence of things’ is entirely absorbed by the ‘future-past dynamics’ of human existence (Jonas 2001a, 231). Existentialism, then, is much more radical than Gnosticism, for ‘that nature does not care, one way or the other, is the true abyss’ (Jonas 2001a, 233).
On the contrary, ‘in the gnostic conception the hostile, the demonic, is still anthropomorphic, familiar even its foreignness, and the contrast itself gives direction to existence’ (Jonas 2001a, 233). The gnostic religion is not a form of nihilism inasmuch as it gives meaning to human life by revealing its origin and redemptive eschaton. Indeed, the gnostic myth teaches the believers that they belong to an ontological dimension they happened to be ejected from and must return to. In the gnostic view, the world is evil precisely because it stubbornly interposes itself between the pneuma and the pleroma, the divine dimension to which it belongs and must be reunited with. This sense of belonging is inseparable, then, from a conception of value and a way of conduct. Even if the value of life and nature is completely overturned, Gnosticism preserves a sense of belonging and, thus, offers a formal suggestion on how to correct the self-inconsistency of Existentialism.
In order to overcome the desperate but illusory sense of forlornness that haunts Existentialism much more than the gnostic mind, a viable ‘dimension to dwell in’ (Jonas 2001a, 230) must be rediscovered and a corresponding sense of belonging must be revived. Even if the modern mind has definitively freed itself from the influence of mythic thought, thus refusing to look for presence as the gnostic believers did, the need remains of getting in touch with a dimension of permanence which may give meaning and direction to existence. An objective, normative background is what is missing from Heidegger’s reprise of the gnostic interpretation of human life. In order to restore consistency to his thought, a functionally analogous component must be retrieved. If transcendence is definitely out of reach, the only dimension left for human dwelling is nature. The greatest flaw of Existentialism, then, lies in disregarding nature as the real context of human existence: the phrase of having being flung into indifferent nature is a remnant from a dualistic metaphysics, to whose use the nonmetaphysical standpoint has no right. What is the throw without a thrower, and without a beyond whence it started? Rather should the existentialist say that life – conscious, caring, knowing itself – has been ‘thrown up’ by nature. (Jonas 2001a, 233) But if the deeper insight of Heidegger is right – that, facing our finitude, we find that we care, not only whether we exist but how we exist – then the mere fact of there being such a supreme care, anywhere within the world, must also qualify the totality which harbors that fact, and even more so if ‘it’ alone was the productive cause of that fact, by letting its subject physically arise in its midst. (Jonas 2001a, 234)
Conclusion
To sum up, some of the most crucial patterns of thought in Jonas’s philosophy seem to exhibit a connection to the gnostic religion – which should neither be overlooked nor overstated. The nodes of value objectivity and vulnerability, human significant involvement in a much wider narrative, and human belonging to a guiding ontological dimension are all traits denied by Existentialism and nihilism but shared by the gnostic myth and Jonas’s philosophy of nature and responsibility. Sure enough, correlation is not causation. Although some traces of such influences can be found in Jonas’s writings, like the image of the divine twin in Immortality and the Modern Temper and some aspects of his own myth, Jonas never explicitly recognized Gnosticism as a source of positive insights. 20 Yet I argue that an open mind should be kept concerning the possibility of a gnostic influence on Jonas’s philosophy to the extent presented. Moreover, I believe that this possibility is supported by the critical role that the gnostic religion plays in Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism, which provides Jonas with a particularly penetrating lens through which to examine Existentialism and identify its shortcomings.
In the light of these claims, one may wonder why the critical and constructive role played by Gnosticism has been so widely understated and the interpretation of Gnosticism as nihilism ended up prevailing. Even though other factors may also have contributed to such result, there are at least two reasons for this. First, the ‘gnostic’ reading of Existentialism Jonas carried out in Gnosticism, Existentialism, and Nihilism, as well as the supposed elaboration of gnostic elements upon which I have insisted in the last section, are not the only historical confrontations Jonas went through in order to find his third way between radical versions of dualism and monism. Indeed, analogous patterns of thought can be found at least in two other cases: in Jonas’s discussion of Greek classic philosophy as a ‘self-sufficient intramundane metaphysics’ (innerweltlich-autarken Metaphysic in Jonas 1988, 142) and in his reflection on the Jewish notion of human beings as God’s trustees in the governance of creation (Fossa 2017).
The influence of such considerations on Jonas’s philosophical project is of course much easier to identify, since both Greek philosophy and the Jewish tradition, at least as Jonas understood them, support a positive attitude to nature. On the contrary, the dualistic anticosmism of Gnosticism makes it quite counterintuitive to search for the influence it may have exercised on Jonas’s monistic philosophy. Still, Jonas’s critique of nihilism is partially different from, and logically antecedent to, his critique of the dualistic devaluation of nature. Nature must be rediscovered as the dimension to which we essentially belong, even if in our own most peculiar way, since the nihilistic idea of human beings’ absolute self-centeredness turned out to be illusory. Therefore, although Greek metaphysics and the Jewish tradition helped Jonas identify the shortcomings of dualism and the necessity to think nature otherwise, it was Gnosticism that offered the means for both diagnosing and avoiding the nihilistic dead-end of Being and Time. I think that this influence is relevant, and on this relevance lies the core argument developed in the second part of my answer.
In my opinion, Jonas’s understanding of the gnostic phenomenon is less monolithic than it may seem. In fact, it shows at least two facets. The first is the existential side, which encompasses those contents that promptly reacted when stimulated by the methodology adopted in Gnosis und spätantiker Geist. This side, which emerges mostly from the first volume, has the advantage of portraying a very vivid picture of the gnostic mood in its relation to the world, while the ritualistic and religious aspects of Gnosticism remain correspondingly on the back burner. Not surprisingly, this is also the side of Gnosticism that best matches Existentialism and was therefore extremely successful. However, as Magris (2011) suggests, Jonas’s existentialist reading failed to acknowledge the experiential weight of the ritualistic, redemptive, and eschatological elements of Gnosticism – that is, exactly what gave meaning and direction to the gnostics’ lives. These elements, to be more precise, were duly acknowledged in the second volume of Gnosis und spätantiker Geist, where Jonas paid much more attention to the gnostic concept of areté, the relevance of the eschatological framework, and the many ways in which the gnosis positively influenced the believers’ practical life by providing a determined tropos tou biou (Jonas 1954, 17). Yet, this non-nihilistic side of the gnostic phenomenon took a back seat in the overall depiction of Gnosticism since it stood at odds with the existentialist methodology Jonas resorted to and the undeniable success earned by the first volume. As a consequence, Gnosticism was eventually reduced to something akin to a form of nihilism, while it is actually a form of non-nihilistic dualism.
Although the existentialist reading of Gnosticism steered Jonas’s interpretation toward the anticosmic mood of the gnostic experience, the philosopher did realize nonetheless the concrete relevance of gnostic rituals and practices. These practical contents, which did not respond equally well to the stimulation provided by the existential methodology, were later retrieved along with their mythic background when it became necessary to deal with Heidegger’s position and overcome it. The possibility of adequately reassessing the role Gnosticism played in Jonas’s philosophy on the one hand, and of challenging the usual understanding of Jonas’s depiction of Gnosticism on the other, lies in taking seriously the influence that the mythical, ritualistic, and practical dimension of the gnostic religion may have exercised on Jonas’s project. Acknowledging this influence, albeit implicit and by no means exclusive, may shed new interesting light onto the many sides of his philosophical journey.
