The Committed Observer: On Tzvetan Todorov

Abstract

The Committed Observer:On Tzvetan Todorov1 Henk de Berg (bio) What kind of thinker Was Tzvetan Todorov? First and foremost, he was a European intellectual. Indeed, I would go so far as to say that he was the European intellectual par excellence. He spoke several languages fluently, was remarkably erudite and cultured, and displayed a striking curiosity and openness towards the world around him. The German magazine Der Spiegel expressed it well in the opening sentence of its obituary: "if one wanted to explain to a Martian what a European intellectual is, one would have to tell him about Tzvetan Todorov."2 Yet this obituary demonstrated something else too; to wit, that our literary critic, cultural theorist, and historian never quite achieved the status of an iconic philosopher: the eulogy was limited to a single 100-word column. Tzvetan Todorov was a thinker of the highest calibre, but he was much less read by, and much less known to, the general public than the "stars" of the intelligentsia whose publications find their way into bookshops at train stations and airports. I believe that this was the case precisely because he defended the ideals of tolerance, moderation, and freedom—the very values that are constitutive of liberal democracy. Behind this, there lies a paradoxical and somewhat disconcerting development. Modern self-consciousness emerged with the French Revolution;3 in other words, as a radical critique of contemporary society. But once the genie of suspicion had been let out of the bottle, it could not be put back in again. As a result, every action and every institution became suspect, to such an extent that even the most defensible and admirable social achievements proved insufficient and hence in need of replacement by perfect alternatives.4 And so the foundations of freedom morphed into social shackles and the institutions of the liberal state came to be seen as instruments of repression, while the self-proclaimed representatives of the critical gaze ensured—and continue to ensure—that nothing can escape this reign of suspicion. Now, Tzvetan Todorov never signed up to the program of these chiens de garde (on the right or the left), who are constantly on our television screens, disciplining and punishing those who stray out of bounds. Neither did he join the ranks of the intellectual alarmists, equally loved by the media, who at regular intervals announce the defeat of the mind, the [End Page 38] French suicide, the decline of the West, or the end of the world. And he decidedly was not one of the would-be saviors of humanity who know just how to avoid such catastrophes—if only one were to follow their guidance. When Karine Zbinden and I interviewed Todorov in March 2015, it was the first time we had the opportunity to talk for an extended period of time. I was struck by three things. The first of these was the complete absence of vanity. "You know," he said to us, "I don't really see myself as a philosopher. I think of myself as more of a historian, a historian of ideas certainly, with opinions, defending certain positions, but not conversing as an equal with the great philosophers of the past."5 The second thing that impressed me was his lucidity, his presence of mind. I remember asking him a set of three detailed questions about Sudhir Hazareesingh's latest book, How the French Think.6 Todorov gave a long, complex answer to the first question, followed by an equally extensive answer to the second one, after which he addressed the third question, which by that time I myself had already forgotten! The final thing that struck me was his intellectual fair-mindedness and rhetorical moderation. He hated all forms of pathos and always endeavored to consider all sides of the argument. No matter what we asked him about—the hateful nationalism of the extreme right, the omnipresence of the media today, or the possible future "robotization" of humanity—his answers were invariably well informed, open-minded, and judicious. This is what left the most lasting impression on me—his determination not to give in to panic or exaltation, but to maintain at...