(in memoriam)
By: Zlatko Kramarić*
If one wishes to understand Jürgen Habermas’s relationship to the “European spirit,” it should be read as a kind of intellectual biography of Europe—one that begins with his youthful disillusionment with the ideas of the Enlightenment and culminates in their rehabilitation. Indeed, Habermas was convinced that the very meaning of the European Union is inconceivable without the participation of Enlightenment ideas.
In his writings, Habermas does not offer a nostalgic image of Europe as a cultural grandeur; rather, persistently—at times even stubbornly—he insists on Europe as a normative project which, despite all efforts, remains unfinished. His early philosophical beginnings within the Frankfurt School were marked by a certain intellectual unease. Under the influence of his teachers, Theodor W. Adorno and Max Horkheimer[1], he too embarked on his philosophical path with a radical critique of modernity, which, despite all good intentions[2], ended in barbarism. Through this act, the European spirit self-destructed: Auschwitz became not merely a historical event but also a key philosophical argument against any idea of progress—after Auschwitz, it is no longer possible to write poetry.[3]
This frustrating diagnosis profoundly shaped the young Habermas. Admittedly, he did not entirely reject this diagnosis of society; on the contrary, he took it very seriously. However, he refused to accept its negative consequences. Unlike Adorno, who remained “trapped” in negative dialectics, Habermas sought—by every means—to rescue what might be called the “rational core of Europe.” If reason failed at a certain moment, this does not necessarily mean that the problem lies solely in its reduction to instrumentality; rather, in his view, the problem is embedded in the very idea of reason itself.
He offered an answer to this dilemma in his key work The Theory of Communicative[4] Action. In this book, Habermas addresses the phenomenon of communicative rationality, which ultimately results in a radical redefinition of the European spirit. The European spirit is no longer a metaphysical destiny (as suggested in many writings of Martin Heidegger), nor does it represent any form of cultural superiority. Instead, in Habermas’s texts, it is reduced to something far more modest yet more demanding: the capacity of individuals to reach understanding and consensus through reasoned, free, and uncoerced communication. In this sense, Europe is not “what it is,” but what it does when it speaks to itself.
In short, Habermas replaced the cultural pessimism of his teachers, Horkheimer and Adorno, with communicative rationality. This does not mean that he abandoned the emancipatory impulses of the Frankfurt School; rather, he relocated them within communicative rationality.
This shift toward communicative rationality brings Habermas closer to the philosophy of Karl Jaspers. Jaspers’s idea of communication as the foundation of existence acquires, in Habermas, a political and institutional form. Yet it is precisely here that his divergence begins from those philosophical traditions that conceived Europe in terms of destiny, being, or identity. Habermas replaces all these elements with procedure, which finds its political form in the concept of constitutional patriotism (Verfassungspatriotismus).[5]
After the catastrophe of the Second World War and the moral collapse that culminated in the Holocaust, it is no longer possible—at least not without discomfort—to speak of the nation as the natural bearer of identity[6]. Habermas therefore proposes something both minimalist and radical: an identity no longer grounded in blood, language, or history, but in respect for constitutional principles and democratic procedures.[7]
Naturally, such views on identity called into question some of the fundamental postulates of Carl Schmitt’s political philosophy. Unlike Schmitt, who defined politics through the friend–enemy distinction, Habermas insisted on the possibility of resolving political conflicts through dialogue. In other words, where Schmitt saw inevitable antagonism, Habermas insisted on the untapped potential of communication. This is not merely a matter of theoretical nuance, but of two entirely different visions of Europe.[8] It was for these reasons that, in 1968, he also distanced himself from the radical positions of student leaders Rudi Dutschke and Hans-Jürgen Krahl.[9]
Furthermore, Habermas’s relationship to the European spirit is not only rationalistic but also deeply moral. This becomes particularly evident in his intervention in the Historikerstreit of the 1980s, where he opposed the German historian Ernst Nolte.[10] Nolte’s tendency to relativize Nazi crimes by placing them within the broader context of the twentieth century was, for Habermas, an unacceptable approach to this traumatic phenomenon of recent German history. In his essay Eine Art Schadensabwicklung (1987), he argued that both German and European identity must be grounded in an unbroken awareness of their own guilt.[11] Habermas was relentless and highly personal in his criticism of those who claimed that Germany should finally allow the legacy of the Holocaust to be “normalized” as a “past that has passed.”
Here emerges what might be called the ethical foundation of the European spirit, which should no longer be experienced as pride, but as responsibility.[12] Habermas maintains that the past should not be uncritically celebrated, but continuously problematized. In this sense, he radicalized Jaspers’s idea of “guilt” by transforming it into a permanent political imperative.[13]
In his later works, especially Zur Verfassung Europas (2011), this project expands to the level of the European Union. In these texts, Habermas appears almost as the “last European federalist” of the old school—one who, in the meantime, has lost all illusions about those “good old days.”
He clearly recognized the EU’s democratic deficit, the dominance of technocracy, and the weak involvement of citizens in everyday political life. Nevertheless, this does not mean that the idea should be abandoned that Europe might, in the foreseeable future, become a post-national democracy in which political will is formed irrespective of national borders[14].
Interestingly, at this stage, his project once again encounters its own limitations. Critics argue that his faith in rational discourse is overly optimistic, especially in an era of pervasive populism, the vulgar “spectacularization” of politics, and a fragmented public sphere. Yet it is precisely here that his position acquires a certain kind of (German) ethical stubbornness: Habermas seems to suggest that abandoning communicative reason is not a realistic alternative, but rather a return to conflictual logics that are by no means unfamiliar to Europe.
Ultimately, Habermas’s “European spirit” is neither romantic nor heroic. In short, it is somewhat “boring”: it consists of long and exhausting procedures, fruitless debates, often unnecessary rules, and constant self-criticism and self-reflection. Yet it is precisely in this “boring” character that its radicality lies. For what Habermas defends is the idea that Europe cannot endure merely by virtue of the greatness of its (glorious) past, but above all through the quality of its debates about that past—which has not always been as glorious as many of us once believed.
And perhaps this is his most important—and today likely most challenging—thesis: that the future of Europe depends less on the identity we will discover, and more on the way we will communicate with one another.
Bibliography
[1] T. W. Adorno & M. Horkheimer, Dialectic of Enlightenment (1947). J. Habermas attempts to salvage the Enlightenment project, which in T. W. Adorno’s work had nearly collapsed. Habermas began his career as an assistant to T. W. Adorno, at a time when an alternative German culture was taking shape within the Frankfurt School.
[2] In 1784, Immanuel Kant published his famous essay Beantwortung der Frage: Was ist Aufklärung? (“Answer to the Question: What is Enlightenment?”), in which he offers one of the most influential definitions of Enlightenment: “Enlightenment is man’s emergence from his self-incurred immaturity.” For Kant, immaturity (Unmündigkeit) is not a lack of intelligence, but a lack of courage to use one’s own reason independently. People often remain “minors” because it is easier to let others think for them—the Church, the state, authorities—hence the philosopher’s gentle exhortation: Sapere aude!—“Dare to think!”
[3] The thesis that “after Auschwitz, poetry is no longer possible” is associated with Theodor W. Adorno. In his 1949 essay, he formulated the well-known claim that writing poetry after Auschwitz is “barbaric.” It should be noted that Adorno later partially revised this harsh statement; in his later writings, he was less skeptical toward art and instead problematized the very possibility of aesthetic expression after radical evil: poetry is possible, but it must be conscious of the historical rupture and can no longer be “innocent.” Thus, the confrontation with the Holocaust becomes one of the fundamental elements of contemporary European identity.
[4] The basic hypothesis of this book is more than trivial: social life is made possible by the human capacity for communication. Setting aside the extraordinary complexity of the book and greatly simplifying, it represents an attempt to develop a kind of two-dimensional social theory: an analysis of communicative rationality grounded in everyday speech is combined with a theory of modern society and modernization. Habermas argues that there are universal normative presuppositions to which we must all appeal in order to understand our speech, argumentative practices, and the modalities of moral, ethical, legal, and political deliberation.
[5] In his book Faktizität und Geltung (1992), Habermas shifted his focus toward politics and law. This text significantly complements the discourse-theoretical approach developed earlier. Reiterating the question of how social order is possible, Habermas begins with another seemingly simple insight: social order is not possible without the mediation of law. This insight is crucial for modernity, marked by a pluralism of values and interests, the absence of universally binding truths, and an ever-growing functional differentiation. One of the key communicative questions of modernity is: under what conditions can political power and law be considered legitimate, especially given their coercive character? This is an unavoidable question of any political philosophy. The concept of constitutional patriotism (Verfassungspatriotismus) was adopted by Habermas from Dolf Sternberger, who saw in its practice a solution to many post-war German problems—where constitutional patriotism would serve as an alternative to (any) ethnic nationalism.
[6] This is also one of our recurring themes, which we have addressed extensively in the book Nostalgia – A Short History of Forgetting (Meandar, Zagreb, 2016), especially in Chapter VII, or in the discussion of Yugoslavism as the “hidden camera” of our subconscious (pp. 154–199).
[7] In some of our texts, we have proposed precisely this formula as an optimal solution for integrating the devastated Serbian community into Croatian society. In this case, patriotism would not be based (solely) on nation, language, or ethnicity, but would primarily manifest itself in the unconditional acceptance of the democratic constitution and universal values (human rights, the rule of law, respect for differences). Indeed, it is high time that the Serbian community in Croatia confront the “darker” parts of its past; through the practice of constitutional patriotism—constructed precisely on the awareness of those less glorious aspects—its members could become fully equal citizens within Croatian society.
[8] In broad terms, C. Schmitt advocates an order based on the right of the stronger and fills it with more or less irrational tendencies. In his view, politics is not primarily a moral or economic sphere, but a matter of conflict and identity. The sovereign is he who decides on the state of exception: in crisis situations, the legal order is suspended by the sovereign’s decision. Schmitt’s positions represent a radical critique of liberal strategies, as liberalism depoliticizes reality by avoiding clear conflicts and tending toward endless discussion instead of making (quick and effective) decisions. In short, Schmitt offers a “realistic,” yet dangerously reductionist image of politics, often criticized for its openness to authoritarian interpretations. By contrast, J. Habermas, as an embodiment of Enlightenment rationalism, posits universal human rights as the foundation of every community, including the global one.
[9] Habermas saw in the political platform of student leaders merely “aimless activism,” a “voluntaristic ideology” which in 1848 was called utopian socialism, and which in contemporary circumstances, he argued, should be called “left-wing fascism.” There is no doubt that, during the student protests, Habermas abandoned Marx’s concept of class struggle, while retaining his idea of unobtrusive rational sociality.
[10] Admittedly, we—like E. Nolte—do not see any dramatic difference between Auschwitz and Kolyma, Jasenovac and Bleiburg.
[11] On this premise, the Croatian writer M. Jergović wrote the novel Father. (See our critique of such views in A. Banović-Markovska & Z. Kramarić, Politics. Culture. Identity / Intercultural Dialogue, Školska knjiga, Zagreb, 2013.) We are not certain to what extent this writer is familiar with the works of K. Jaspers and J. Habermas, but, like Habermas, he believes that the German/Croatian wartime past must not be pacified as a museum exhibit, as a “past that has passed.” The German (Croatian) political community—and each of its members—must understand that history is a permanent source of obligation for every individual who happens to belong to the German (Croatian) nation.
[12] It is precisely in the practice of this principle that serious societies differ from unserious ones (L. von Mises).
[13] Europe, emerging from the war in 1945, was a continent not only physically devastated but also morally shaken. For this reason, as convincingly shown by Tony Judt, postwar Europe was compelled to build a new political and moral order largely grounded in the memory of the catastrophe from which it arose. Yet this process of coming to terms with the past has never been simple or linear. On the contrary, European history after 1945 demonstrates that many debates about the Second World War have never been fully concluded. In much of Central and Eastern Europe, the war—at least in symbolic and political terms—still continues. Interpretations of the past continue to shape political identities, ideological conflicts, and cultural debates. The Croatian case is a paradigmatic example of these unfinished interpretations.
[14] For this very reason, historical revisionism has become one of the key issues in contemporary European historiography. In its original meaning, revisionism is an integral part of scholarly work: history is constantly reinterpreted in light of new sources, methods, and theoretical perspectives. However, in political discourse, revisionism often takes on a different meaning—it becomes a tool of ideological reinterpretation of the past or an attempt to relativize historical crimes.
*Zlatko Kramarić is a Croatian publicist, author, and diplomat, currently serving as Ambassador to Albania. Formerly a university professor and politician, he is known for his work in literature, cultural studies, and regional history.
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