Cedric Cohen-Skalli

The economic shift initiated in the 1980s, the reign of the market and the computer, often resulted in the reappearing of a “feudal legal structure... consisting of networks of allegiance.” This paradox (ultra-modernity and neo-feudalism) is rarely considered a historical tool for studying late twentieth-century philosophy. This article is a first step in that direction, using Supiot’s characterization of the period as a “shift from law to tie” to approach the work of Levinas. In Totality and Infinity and Otherwise than Being, Levinas defends a revelation of or exposure to the Other directed against the “neutralization of the Other” as being, object, or phenomenon. It is meant to liberate an interpellation by the Other before and beyond any general constitution of the object by the subject. Can this shift in twentieth-century philosophy be reconsidered if we add to Levinas’s own account Supiot’s historical understanding concerning the withering-away of general normative forms in favor of personal ties of allegiance?

A la question « quo vadis Israel?», il est possible de répondre partiellement en juxtaposant l’été 2018, et notamment la loi fondamentale « Israël État-nation du Peuple Juif » votée le 19 juillet sous l’impulsion du gouvernement Netanyahu, et l’été 2011, où un mouvement de protestation commença le 14 juillet sur l’Avenue Rothschild à Tel Aviv, s’étendant ensuite à tout Israël et atteignant des proportions jamais connue dans le pays. Comment sommes-nous passés de l’espoir soulevé par le mouvement social de 2011 qui faisait suite au Printemps arabe de Tunisie et d’Egypte, à la réaction politique implacable déployée par les différents gouvernements Netanyahu? Les quelques pages qui suivent tenteront de faire passer, ou plutôt de faire chuter le lecteur du soulèvement de l’été 2011 au changement néfaste de régime qui s’annonce avec le vote de la loi fondamentale « Israël État-nation du Peuple Juif. » L’auteur de ces lignes, témoin engagé, ne prétend pas à une étude historique de cette chute. Il a simplement voulu faire résonner sur le papier certaines des voix discordantes de ces sept dernières années.

“For it is not impossible that a nation should have many leaders who convene, unite, and reach a consensus; they can thus govern and administer justice… Then also, why cannot they have terms of office…? When the turn of other magistrates comes to replace them, they will investigate the abuses of trust committed by earlier [magistrates]; Those found guilty will pay for their crimes… Finally, why cannot their powers be limited and determined by laws or norms?” These lines of Don Isaac Abravanel’s Commentary on 1 Sam 8 earned him fame in 20th century scholarship as “the first early modern Jewish republican thinker.” Yet, the history of the modern rediscovery of Abravanel’s political thought is relatively unknown, and more so, its philosophical and political meaning. My paper will try to elucidate an important part of this history, while emphasizing its value for an understanding of the criticism of the Wissenschaft des Judentums between the two World Wars.

This paper aims to shed new light on major features of the early Zionist construction of a Jewish political space. Revisiting two early debates of Martin Buber (1878-1965) with Max Nordau (1849-1923) and Hermann Cohen (1842-1918), the article points at the limitation of the Zionist political construction for a later articulation of the Jewish and Palestinian complexity in a shared or divided land. Herzl’s understanding of Zionism as a strictly political and economic apparatus brought to an historical and ideological debate at the fifth Zionist Congress in 1901 between the young Buber and the faithful associate of Herzl, Nordau. Against Nordau’s prioritization of the productivization of Jews, Buber developed in his famous speech on “Jewish Art” the necessity of a cultural and spiritual elevation of Jews. In 1916, in the middle of WWI, Buber’s cultural notion of Jewish national regeneration in Eretz Israel sets the backdrop for another debate and clash, this time with the German Jewish philosopher Hermann Cohen.

Walter Benjamin teaches us that books have a Nachreife, a “maturing process” in their afterlife during which they leave their original but limited historical and cultural context in order to take part in a process that is not defined by the intention of the author or the reader. Through their interaction, writers and readers transform the relationships among the times, places, languages, and schools of thought that informed a literary or philosophical work when it was born. Don Isaac Abravanel’s critical reception of Gersonides is an interesting example of such a transformation, in that it both disassembled the Provençal scholar’s initial scientific and theological project and established new links and interpretations. Don Isaac’s critique of Gersonides did not derive only from a historical process within the Jewish intellectual sphere; it also followed Christian and Humanist trends, including Petrarch’s development of a Humanist defense of religion, more independent of science. Abravanel’s critical reception of Gersonides is an interesting meeting point of Jewish and Christian literary and philosophical trends. In that sense, the cultural and historical processes that informed Abravanel’s attitude towards Gersonides helped create the conditions for a belated literary encounter between two great scholars who had lived in the same geographical and cultural environment of the papal court at Avignon: Gersonides and Petrarch. This new connection produced by the reception process is what our comparative study of Abravanel’s reading of Gersonides in both Jewish and Christian contexts attempts to demonstrate.

This article proposes the first systematic explanation and analysis of Gustave Landauer’s central concept of Antipolitik. Liberation from the rule of the one or the many is at the heart of Landauer’s notion of antipolitics. For the purpose of understanding the originality of Landauer’s antipolitical stance, this essay juxtaposes Landauer’s key texts on this concept with several sources that constitute its philosophical background. With reference to La Boétie, Hobbes, Nietzsche, Proudhon, Kropotkin, Aristotle, Tönnies, and Marx, it clarifies three central dimensions in Landauer’s concept of antipolitics: the psychological critique of political modernity, the search for a renewal of the spirit, and the therapeutic return to the community.

This article offers a history of the German concept of translation in four stages, moving from Luther’s Verdeutschung to Mendelssohn’s translation of the Psalms, and from the re-elaboration of the translation concept by Freud, Rosenzweig and Benjamin to Derrida’s Des tours de Babel. During the postwar years, many philosophers have studied different aspects of the Classical and Romantic elaboration of the German concept of translation. The contribution of this article is not to revisit these analyses, that are by now well known, but to shed light on the role played by certain Jewish thinkers in the history of the Germanic concept of translation at the end of the 18th century and the beginning of the 20th, and also, later, within the French philosophy of the years 1960-1990.

This article intends to shed new light on the impressive series of “war writings,” in which Hermann Cohen developed the idea of a possible messianic collaboration of German imperial ambitions and a modern Jewish Diaspora regenerated by German Spirit (from Russia to America). My paper pays special attention to two lecture tours planed by Cohen in the year 1914, one to Petersburg, Moscow, Riga, Vilna and Warsaw in May 1914, a few weeks before the outbreak of WWI; the other a propaganda trip to America imagined at the beginning of WWI (Autumn 1914) by Cohen and a group of Jews linked to the Centralverein deutscher Staatsbürger jüdischen Glaubens – a plan which failed and turned only into the publication of an article in several American newspapers in German, English and Yiddish in early 1915. The article brings into consideration new archival material concerning the political background of these two initiatives. The article demonstrates how Cohen’s writings and activities during WWI were deploying a new Jewish and Imperial politics – which sought to pave the way for a messianic integration of Jewish Diaspora in the Imperial project of Germany, understood as the political realization of German Idealism.

The article presents an inter-regional and inter-religious discussion of the crisis of liberalism that challenges some of the common assumptions in the study of intellectual history. The paper begins by painting with a broad brush the migration of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century European liberal transformations to the rapidly changing Ottoman Empire in the nineteenth century. In the second part, the essay focuses on Paris’s interwar intellectual scene, where this expansion of liberalism is reflected critically from the perspective of the European crisis of the 1930s. Moving from the East to the West, the chapter reconstructs step by step a growing convergence that established itself between the theopolitical question of the late Ottoman Empire and important intellectual trends in the interwar period in Paris. For this purpose, it uses as a guiding thread a Jewish intellectual episode: Leo Strauss’s rediscovery of a Jewish–Islamic philosophical model successfully developed during the Middle Ages. The reconstruction of this episode and its intellectual background in the 1930s illuminates an overlooked interconnection with similar questioning in the late and post-Ottoman Levant.

This volume brings together scholars from a range of disciplines to explore the intersections between crisis, scholarship, and action. The aim of this book is to think about the “moment of crisis,” through the concepts, writings, and methodologies awarded to us by Jewish thinkers in modernity. This book offers a broad gallery of accounts on the notion of crisis in Jewish modernity while emphasizing three terms: interpretation, heresy, and messianism. The main thesis of the volume is that the diasporic and exilic experience of the Jewish people turned their philosophers and theologians into “experts in crisis management” who had to find resources within their own religion, culture and traditions in order to react, endure and overcome short- and long-term historical crises. The underlining assumption of this book is therefore that Jewish thought obtains resources for conceptualizing and reacting to the current forms of crisis in the global, European, and Israeli spheres. The volume addresses a large readership in humanities, social and political sciences and religious studies, taking as its assumption that scholars in modern Jewish thought have an extended responsibility to engage in contemporary debates.

The journey of Byzantine scholar Manuel Chrysoloras and his stay in Florence at the turn of the fourteenth and fifteenth centuries has been celebrated as an event that decisively shaped the course of European humanism. The later return of Enlightenment humanism to Ottoman lands in the eighteenth to early twentieth centuries can be described as the return of Chrysoloras. This return is generally known in a fragmentary form as a regional phenomenon: the story of Greek, Arab, Turkish and Jewish nationalisms and of the Ottoman reforms. It is also framed historically as the evolution from a traditional and theological society to new forms of epistemic, literary, civic and national communities, while often leaving aside failures and later contradictory transformations. The present essay offers an integrative study of modern humanism in late Ottoman and post-Ottoman contexts. The migration of Enlightenment humanism to the Middle East raised a wide range of expectations, projecting a new national or imperial organization within a harmonious diplomatic relationship with Christian Europe and the Americas. Yet, the more the revivalist and reformist projects evolved, the more they involved ethnic and religious conflicts and colonial intervention. This article illuminates the rise and fall of humanism in Middle Eastern contexts.

Jean-François Lyotard's intellectual evolution in the late 1970s and 1980s is well known in continental philosophy. In 1979, with the publication of The Postmodern Condition, Lyotard became famous for his report on "the obsolescence of the metanarrative apparatus of legitimation". Later, in his magnum opus Le diférend he expanded on this, claiming that "a universal rule of judgment between heterogeneous genres is lacking in general". Yet, this creative moment in Lyotard's career, responsible for shaping the philosophical concept of the postmodern condition, is rarely connected to his book La guerre des Algériens (1989). This work was supposed to implement his new postmodern concepts in relation to the war in Algeria. The present article looks at La guerre des Algériens, within its broader historical and philosophical context, as a unique opportunity to evaluate the validity of Lyotard's philosophical shift, especially his new concept of radical heterogeneity at work in history.

This first critical edition of Isaac Abravanel’s correspondence opens a window into the cultural, political and commercial world of one of the first Jewish humanists of the quattrocento. Jewish leader of the expelled Sephardim after 1492, commentator of the Bible, Abravanel is a legendary figure of the Sephardic history. The edition of the letters along with the introductive essay that reconstructs their cultural background intends to connect the legendary figure of Abravanel to the major reason of his remarkable career: his successful assimilation of Renaissance humanism.

The violent death of Landauer in May 1919 at the end of the Räterepublik of Munich left several of his best friends with a terrible feeling: a sense of tension between the unique hopes incarnated by Landauer and the spiritual and political void his passing left behind. This article is an attempt to capture the tragic shift from a living revolutionary who projected his unique anarchist views onto the failed Munich Revolution to the efforts of a group of close friends who searched to save their dear Landauer from the infamy of failure, making of his months in Munich and his death an important amendment to his spiritual and political legacy.

Don Isaac Abravanel was one of the first Jewish thinkers to express republican positions, yet very little is known about his knowledge of humanistic republican conceptions. Had he read Leonardo Bruni’s republican writings? Had he even heard of them? In this essay I attempt to address this philological gap by comparing Abravanel’s republican commentary on 1 Samuel 8 with Bruni’s Laudatio florentinae Urbis, especially the motif of the plea to God to authorize a political regime. This comparison is particularly useful for illuminating their respective positions on republicanism, their shared interests and conceptions, as well as their divergent attitudes to their own political and historical environment. This divergence, I argue, sheds light on the early modern Christian and Jewish receptions of ancient republicanism.