“My exploration of the nobility of the spirit . . . began with the realisation that, following 9/11, many intellectuals were desperate to justify what had happened, failing to distinguish between being highly critical of their own Western society and legitimising a crime, no matter the reasons. I asked myself, ‘What use are so many intellectuals who know all the books and music, from Mozart to John Cage, by heart, if they cannot distinguish between right and wrong?'” Rob Riemen, writer, philosopher, and director of the Nexus Cultural Institute in the Netherlands
The above quote is by Rob Riemen, writer, philosopher and director of the Nexus Cultural Institute in the Netherlands. His book, The Nobility of the Spirit, stems from the anguish born of the rift between the human ideal and the degrading reality in which humanity is increasingly trapped. Through reading the book, readers experience the pain arising from the realisation of this reality whilst exploring the remedy in the ideal of nobility of spirit.
In the sense attributed to it by Riemen, the phrase might seem old-fashioned; yet, the patient reader discovers an attitude that elevates the human being above the vulgarity of everyday life. The nobility of spirit that Riemen writes about does not point towards an ideal of knowledge, but rather towards one that concerns the practical aspects of life. It is not the person with knowledge who is noble, but the person who acts on their knowledge. Remaining loyal to humanity rather than the individual, Riemen highlights the consequences of a lack of spiritual nobility on society. The tyrannies and atrocities of the Middle Ages, as well as totalitarian systems, are realities born precisely out of such conditions.
Substitutes for the need for eternity
Civilisation, in the sense of a society “that needs no violence to introduce political change” (p. 46), disappears when this ideal is abandoned. With it go freedom, truth, justice, and human dignity. People can only attain knowledge of objective and absolute truth through reason and discernment within the context of freedom of conscience—an essential condition of human dignity. Totalitarianism replaces values with violence and terror. “You throw away the truth because you already have your own ideology. You push goodness aside because political dogma has its own morality. What remains then is ‘pure beauty’ and ‘sublime action,’ which the amoral aesthete extravagantly admires” (p. 52).
Riemen views totalitarian systems as an attempt to fulfil humanity’s desire for eternity by creating a substitute society. The history of creating a paradise through one’s own efforts and ideas is repeated in the 21st century through Islamic fundamentalism. Focusing on the events of 11 September 2001, the author protests against religions that are legitimised by a lack of humanity and terror. In his view, the admiration shown by some journalists for the terrorists’ reckless sacrifice at the World Trade Center is barbaric and demonstrates a lack of discernment.
The betrayal of the world and of humankind
“Intellectuals are those privileged to derive their eminent position (‘distingue’) from the primary task: to distinguish (‘distinction’). For the sake of the survival of civilization, intellectuals have the duty to safeguard and pass on their knowledge of what is best and most valuable” (p. 60). Failure to fulfil this role constitutes a betrayal of humanity, society, values and, ultimately, the Absolute. Those who forget the vital distinction between good and evil become complicit in this betrayal.
Every individual is free to choose the criteria and values that govern their own development. However, Riemen believes that the only way to correct a society dominated by non-values is through nobility of spirit. This entails taking responsibility for who you are and who you will become in the name of the longing for eternity and respect for love—that is, for God. In light of consumer society’s values, nobility of spirit may seem outdated, but when viewed in relation to the transcendent, it becomes a jewel.
