The One and the Other: "-ists," "isms," and Differentiation in that "Silly Attack" on Jung
By Craig Titley
“What the hell is it, that does ail them?” Jung asked upon hearing of yet another “silly attack” accusing him of anti-Semitic prejudices. “Why should I be on their minds? Do I appear in their dreams?” (qtd. in Bair 517). The “them” Jung was referring to were critics who, for reasons Jung never quite understood, seemed hell-bent on labeling him a Jew-hater, a Nazi-Sympathizer, a racist, or any number of “-ists” de jour for his alleged “misconduct” during the rise of Hitler’s Third Reich in the mid-1930’s. This latest assault on Jung’s character, occurring in 1947, was not the first, nor would it be the last. The “is he or isn’t he?” debate has been so enduring and controversial that the Eleventh International Congress of the IAAP held a “Workshop on Jung and Anti-Semitism” in Paris in 1989 where friends, foes, Freudians, Jungians, and those who just came for the free crepes all weighed in with much hand-wringing, second-guessing, apologizing, and eulogizing to arrive at the definitive conclusion that Paris was lovely this time of year.
Sixteen years later, when every conceivable shred of evidence in the case for or against Jung seems to have been unearthed and scrutinized for meanings both obvious and latent, the answer still boils down to what you choose to believe. The only definitive decision that can ever be reached in this debate is a decision to conclude the debate. Yet this paper is itself testament to the fact that the debate wants no conclusion. I personally have no “skin in the game.” I am neither a Jew nor a Christian. Neither a Jungian nor a Freudian. In my world Vienna is a sausage and Swiss is a cheese. So why does this seventy-year old “controversy” or “conspiracy” (depending on the side chosen) so deeply and obsessively engage me? And why is Jung’s seemingly ambivalent behavior still debated and argued about with such fervor and passion in academic settings throughout the world? During his lecture at the 1989 Workshop, Adolf Guggenb¸hl-Craig suggested that “[...] the dark sides of Jung are a pseudo-issue, a non-event. If it affects us all the same, then there is something wrong with us. We have to examine ourselves to find out what is wrong” (342).
So what is wrong with us? The answer, I believe, has less to do with the “is he or isn’t he” issue of Jung’s alleged anti-Semitism and more to do with a nerve he struck with his writings on cultural differences. The latent and universally perplexing question behind the enduring “Jung and anti-Semitism” debate is not “is he or isn’t he?” but rather “are we or aren’t we?” Are we a collection of diverse races, each another’s “Other,” or are we the “One” unified human race? However, before we delve into the latent content of the debate, we must first consider its manifest forms in the “silly attacks” on Jung to see if, in fact, they are justified.
There are five primary salvos fired by those who wish to label Jung as anti-Semitic and/or a Nazi sympathizer: (1) by assuming the presidency of the General Medical Society for Psychotherapy in Germany during the reign of the Third Reich, Jung was playing along with the Nazis, (2) Jung’s fascination with the Third Reich’s psychic revival of the Wotan myth made him an enamored Hitler fan and a secret Nazi admirer, (3) Jung’s failure to confront the Nazis head-on or to issue an official apology for his seemingly “complicit” behavior was a de facto endorsement of the Nazi cause, (4) his antagonist relationship with a Jew named Freud resulted, at the very least, in an unconscious hatred of all Jews, and (5) by writing about differences in Jewish/German psychology during the Nazi reign, Jung was feeding the anti-Semitic fires and aiding and abetting the Nazis in their justification for exterminating the Jews. Each of these charges have been extensively dissected, analyzed, debated, and written about from both sides of the argument, and there is little I hope to add beyond my own perspective.
It’s a fairly safe bet to say that all of the facts have now been gathered regarding the events, circumstances, and motives surrounding Jung’s assumption of the presidency of the General Medical Society for Psychotherapy in Germany. Deirdre Bair, in her recent Jung biography, compiles, organizes, and presents these facts in two exhaustive chapters (“Falling Afoul of History” and “Carl Jung, Re: Subversive Activities”) and leaves little doubt that, when taken in context and viewed through the lens of the time, Carl Jung was not playing along with the Nazis and, in fact, often used his position to subversively undermine them. For example, when Jung first learned that the Nazis were intending to revise the society’s statutes to expel all the Jews, he worked with a lawyer, Vladamir Rosenbaum, to find a loophole in the statues. Rosenbaum felt that Jung was being incredibly naive “thinking he could hoodwink the Nazis” (Bair 449). But Jung persisted--“I know this, but I want to! I must indeed try!” (qtd. in Bair 449)—-and they found their loophole, creating a supranational society that the expelled Jews could join right under the nose of the Nazis. “Jung did not ‘play along with the Nazis,’ as has more than once been charged,” writes Ernest Harms in one of the earliest attempts to address the allegations against Jung, “instead, he fought in a clever way, and the only possible way, against them, adjusting himself to the given conditions so he could extend his help” (43). In light of the facts surrounding Jung’s presidency, the arguments made by those in the “yes he is” camp, appear to be nothing more than “innuendo, tricks of quotations and omission” (Paul Mellon qtd. in Bair 513).
There is no need, however, for innuendo, tricks, or omissions when one wishes to accuse Jung of being fascinated by the mythological underpinnings and the spiritual revival he saw in the Third Reich. Guilty as charged. But fascination does not equal endorsement or acquiescence. Richard Stein, on the contrary, believes that Jung identified so strongly with Hitler’s masterful and manipulative use of mythology and his mastery over an entire country’s psyche that it clouded his judgment:
There are passages in Jung’s writings from as early as 1918 (Psychological Types) that demonstrate his awareness of what he called the ‘barbarian element’ in the not-fully-Christianized German psyche and the dangerous projection of this shadow on the Jews. Why, then, did he seem to lose sight of this awareness in the early days of the Nazi movement? [...] I believe his disturbing political actions can be linked to an unconscious identification with the archetype of the mana personality and its cultural expression, the shaman (100).
Stein presents an intelligent and intriguing argument, and he may be correct to a certain degree. However, Jung never seems to lose sight of the destructive potential of the “blonde beast.” Nor does his fascination with Hitler ever seem to become a full blown case of itchy identification, unless Jung saw himself as a Popanz, “something like a ‘mere dummy’” (Kirsch 70), which is how he had once described Hitler. “It was a great puzzle for him how this kind of fool and psychopath could become the leader of the German people” (Kirsch 70). Furthermore, in the early days of the Nazi movement, the verdict for Jung, as well as for the man who would become one of the Nazi’s archest of rivals, was still out. In 1935, Winston Churchill wrote: “We cannot tell whether Hitler will be the man who will once again let loose upon the world another war [...] or whether he will go down in history as the man who restored honour and peace of mind to the great Germanic nation” (qtd. in Bair 453). Jung, observing from the psychological perspective, had the same ambivalence: “Every archetype contains the lowest and the highest, good and evil [...]. Hence it is impossible to make out at the start whether it will prove to be positive or negative” (qtd. in Kirsch 64). Mircea Eliade, another mythologist accused of anti-Semitism (a hazard that apparently comes with the job), once wrote: “Against the terror of History there are only two possibilities of defense: action and contemplation” (qtd. in Ellwood 101). Jung, as a student and doctor of the psyche, could do the greatest long-term good by doing seemingly very little. Here was an opportunity to observe, with front row seats and an eagle-eye view, a series of rare, anomalous convergences that were leading to mythology and psychology’s “Perfect Storm.” He was in the right place at the right time doing the right thing. According to Robert Ellwood, the results gathered from this observation post justify Jung’s position. “If there is anything that Jung’s eighty-seven years teach us, it is that projecting the passions of the gross political realm onto the psyche, or conversely allowing the psyche to adventure into the realm of outward politics armed only with its archetypes, is bound to be disastrous” (37-38).
Jung critics, however, feel that lessons and observations were not enough. Whether they wanted him to take up arms and charge through the Nazi occupied streets on a suicide mission or to provoke the Nazis in such a way that he would be unable to help any of his Jewish colleagues, is not quite certain. It seems that anything short of his becoming “Schindler’s Analyst” is deemed proof of anti-Semitism or Nazi sympathies. Even his most avid supporters seem to concede the point that he should have eventually explained himself for the record. Rascher Verlag, his German-language publisher, hoped to publish a compilation of Jung’s essays “Wotan,” “Psychotherapy Today,” and “After the Catastrophe” to set the record straight in Jung’s own words. But ultimately the idea was rejected as it might be taken a “confession and atonement” (Bair 511) of which Jung felt none was necessary. “One should never argue with people,” Jung said, “whose resistance to oneself is based on projections, on irrational factors, etc.” (qtd. in Bair 511-512).
Yet many people, including some of Jung’s most devoted apologists and supporters, believe that he had made an atonement, or a least that he had resolved any “Jewish issues” he may have had, with the writing of Answer to Job and that these “issues,” conscious or unconscious, were the result of an antagonistic relationship with his estranged father-figure, Freud. James Kirsch, a staunch Jung supporter, concedes that “...unconsciously an unresolved ‘Jewish’ complex persisted in him. It was activated in him through his personal relationship with Sigmund Freud, at first in a positive and enthusiastic transference on him. Later, after his break [...] critical and negative feelings came up in him, feelings which extended to the collective, to Jews in general” (86). The entire “Jung and anti-Semitism” debate could be framed as a battle between Freudians and Jungians with both sides guilty of projecting their own prejudices and animosities. Jung saw the accusations made against him as nothing less than a “Freudian propaganda campaign” (qtd. in Bair 454) that began after their split when Freud wrote, in 1914, that Jung had “certain racial prejudices” (Adams 362). Since then it has been perpetuated by the “longstanding jealousies of [Freud’s] Viennese followers who resented Jung’s privileged position as Freud’s heir-apparent” (Sherry 120). Answer to Job, far from being Jung’s liberating redemption from any Jewish issues (as Kirsch claimed) read like a rant against his Jewish accusers and a philosophical undermining of what Jung called their “chosen people complex” (Jung qtd. in Samuels 319). Jung seems to relate to Job, God’s scapegoat (Answer 28), and since, according to Jung, Jewish psychology “corresponds exactly to the Jewish idea of God” (qtd. in Samuels 319), the Jews are his sadistic, confused punishers, unable to individualize or to truly become God’s chosen, without the final piece to the puzzle: the completing power of Christ!
It is clear that Jung’s relationship with Freud and his encounters with Jewish psychology (the school) and Jewish psychology (the culturally specific psychic process) left him befuddled about Jews and possibly even offended or annoyed by some of their beliefs, attitudes, and practices. This however, does not make him anti-anything. It simply makes him befuddled, offended, and/or annoyed. If one insists on applying an “-ism” to Jung’s beliefs and behavior, “anti-a-Semite-named-Freuditism” might be more fitting.
Finally, we arrive at the fifth and final charge salvo fired at Jung: his writings about differences in Jewish/German psychology during the Nazi reign provided justification for the Nazi’s anti-Jewish campaign. Jung has admitted that his timing was bad, that he had been “incautious, so incautious as to the very thing most open to misunderstanding at the present moment...the Jewish question” (qtd. In Bair 452). Yet Jung’s “timing” is not the real issue here. The real, enduring issue, an issue that is just as controversial today, is Jung’s concept of differential psychology:
Jung is interested in the differentiation of structural and functional manifestations of the psyche and their causation. [...] However, his differential viewpoint does not stop at character and personality differentiation but does go on to typological expressions as they appear in a social, cultural, and finally, anthropological, psychological aspect. Jung is striving to find clear and understandable descriptions of the difference of national groups, of religious groups and of cultural groups. (Harms 32)
In other words, a Jew may be psychologically different than a German, a Christian may be psychologically different than a Muslim, an African-American may be psychologically different than a Caucasian-American, and a Red Stater may be psychologically different than a Blue Stater. “That people are also all alike is by this time a familiar fact, but it leads to no end of misunderstandings. These come from the differences, which should therefore be a worthy subject of investigation” (Jung qtd. in Samuels 329). Nevertheless, as Jung discovered, the broaching of the topic puts one in the hot seat. “The mere fact that I speak of a difference between Jewish and Christian psychology suffices to allow anyone to voice the prejudice that I am an anti-Semite” (Harms 48). And voice it they did. But that doesn’t make it so.
As Guggenb¸hl-Craig stated, the real issue is our own. There are, without question, projection issues involved on both sides of the Jung debate (more often than not, you “is” what you “-ism”). But the bigger issue is differentiation. This latent part of the debate forces us to examine our own “Otherness” and to explore the universal and enduring question: are we the One or are we the Other? The answer that we may be “both” seems so simple. Yet the Jung debate and the debates dominating our current headlines suggest that “both” is not a concept so simply grasped or so easily reconciled.
Consider the perplexing, schizophrenic disconnect in our present culture where we claim to “celebrate diversity” while at the same time acting quickly to vilify anyone who dares to suggests that races or genders or ethnic groups may have inherent and innate differences. The recent controversy surrounding comments made by Harvard University president Lawrence H. Summers is a perfect example. In discussing the lack of women represented in tenured positions in science and engineering, Dr. Summers, sounding a lot like Jung, commented:
...the role of women in science is [not] the only example of a group that is significantly underrepresented in an important activity... the data will, I am confident, reveal that Catholics are substantially underrepresented in investment banking...that white men are very substantially underrepresented in the National Basketball Association; and that Jews are very substantially underrepresented in farming and in agriculture. These are all phenomena in which one observes underrepresentation, and I think it’s important to try to think systematically and clinically about the reasons for underrepresentation.
His comment is not that far removed from Jung’s statement that “Jews have this peculiarity in common with women: Being physically weaker they have to aim at the chinks in their opponent’s armor [...]” (qtd. in Harms 37). Summers in no way implied women or Jews or Catholics or white men were inferior or superior. He merely made an observation about potential psychological differences and encouraged further study. Yet people and pundits were immediately labeling him “sexist” and demanding his resignation. The similarity to the Jung case reveals how little we have progressed in our understanding and acknowledgement of Jung’s differential psychology during the past seventy years. Andrew Samuels who, unlike other Jungians, found “something in the fundamental structure of Jung’s thinking about the Jews [...] that made anti-semitism inevitable” (290) still believes that Jung’s “intuition of the importance of exploring differences, preserving them, even celebrating them, remain intact” (329).
So why, after all these years, are we culturally so afraid to talk about, acknowledge, or investigate potential psychological differences between races, genders, and nationalities? And why are we so intent on labeling anyone with whom we disagree as an “-ist” or an “-ism”? The answer lies in our fear of being the “Other” and our fear of marginality. If someone dares to suggest that we may on occasion be an “Other” or living at the margins of our society, than we must immediately marginalize them right back, turning them into an “-ist” and banishing them to the appropriate ist-island. The paradox in our culture is that we only seem willing to celebrate diversity as long as we’re not the ones who are being called diverse. This seems to be the true heart of the “Jung and anti-Semitism” debate and explains its enduring appeal. We are in a constant struggle to hold the tension between being “One” and the “Other” that is also expressed in the “paradox of collective and heroic in myth” (Ellwood 28). “Both” is still somewhere far off on the horizon.
Jung’s behavior in the 1930’s and will continue to be debate and analyzed, but hopefully it will evolve beyond trying to prove or disprove the “-ism” and into a debate on the merits of his differential psychology. Perhaps it is time to stop celebrating diversity and to start celebrating and embracing our own unique marginalities. If we can become comfortable with being someone else’s “Other” then, ironically, we all become the “One,” unified by our “Otherness.”
Until that time, I’ll live by the words of existentialist comedian Emo Phillips: “All the nations of the earth must learn to live together in peace. Why be prejudiced against anyone because of their race or nationality or creed when there are so many real reasons to hate others.”
Works Cited
Adams, Michael Vannoy and Jay Sherry, comp. “Appendix A: Significant Words and Events.” Lingering Shadows: Jungians, Freudians, and Anti-Semitism. Ed. Aryeh Maidenbaum and Stephen A. Martin. Boston: Shambhala, 1991. 357-396.
Bair, Deirdre. Jung: A Biography. Boston: Little, 2003.
Ellwood, Robert. The Politics of Myth: A Study of C.G. Jung, Mircea Eliade, and Joseph Campbell. Albany: SUNY, 1999.
Guggenbuhl-Craig, Adolf. “Reflections on Jung and Anti-Semitism.” Lingering Shadows: Jungians, Freudians, and Anti-Semitism. Ed. Aryeh Maidenbaum and Stephen A. Martin. Boston: Shambhala, 1991. 341-347.
Harms, Ernest. “Carl Gustav Jung: Defender of Freud and the Jews.” Lingering Shadows: Jungians, Freudians, and Anti-Semitism. Ed. Aryeh Maidenbaum and Stephen A. Martin. Boston: Shambhala, 1991. 17-49.
Jung, C.G. Answer to Job: Fiftieth Anniversary Edition. Trans. R.F.C. Hull. New Jersey: Princeton-Bolligen, 2002.
Kirsch, James. “Carl Gustav Jung and the Jews: The Real Story.” Lingering Shadows: Jungians, Freudians, and Anti-Semitism. Ed. Aryeh Maidenbaum and Stephen A. Martin. Boston: Shambhala, 1991. 51-87.
Phillips, Emo. Live from the Hasty Pudding Theatre. Epic, 1987.
Samuels, Andrew. The Political Psyche. London: Routledge, 1993.
Sherry, Jay. “The Case of Jung’s Alleged Anti-Semitism.” Lingering Shadows: Jungians, Freudians, and Anti-Semitism. Ed. Aryeh Maidenbaum and Stephen A. Martin. Boston: Shambhala, 1991. 117-132.
Stein, Richard. “Jung’s ‘Mana Personality’ and the Nazi Era.” Lingering Shadows: Jungians, Freudians, and Anti-Semitism. Ed. Aryeh Maidenbaum and Stephen A. Martin. Boston: Shambhala, 1991. 89-116.
Summers, Lawrence H. Remarks at NBER Conference on Diversifying the Science & Engineering Workforce. Harvard University, Cambridge, Mass. 14 Jan. 2005.
Posted by john at June 7, 2005 05:32 PM
