No eternal return! Unamuno, Life 3.13

What happens when we attempt to reason with faith? To reconcile the heart and the head, in Unamuno's terms? Nietzsche famously attempts to answer this question, offering a well-developed outlook in his writings which Unamuno is going to contest. As a devout Catholic, he cannot agree with the skeptical Protestant. From Unamuno's perspective, Nietzsche uses the head to destroy the heart, deconstructing all hope by showing that there is no sufficient human reason for it. For Unamuno, hope is necessary, a given that we accept prior to reason, and independent of it.


Y vuelven los sensatos, los que no están a dejarse engañar, y nos machacan los oídos con el sonsonete de que no sirve entregarse a la locura y dar coces contra el aguijón, pues lo que no puede ser es imposible. Lo viril —dicen— es resignarse a la suerte, y pues no somos inmortales, no queramos serlo; sojuzguémonos a la razón sin acongojarnos por lo irremediable, entenebreciendo y entristeciendo la vida. Esa obsesión —añaden— es una enfermedad. Enfermedad, locura, razón... ¡el estribillo de siempre! Pues bien, ¡no! No me someto a la razón y me rebelo contra ella, y tiro a crear en fuerza de fe a mi Dios inmortalizador y a torcer con mi voluntad el curso de los astros, porque si tuviéremos fe como un grano de mostaza, diríamos a ese monte: pásate de ahí, y se pasaría, y nada nos sería imposible (Mat. XVII, 20).

Ahí tenéis a ese ladrón de energías, como él llamaba torpemente al Cristo, que quiso casar el nihilismo con la lucha por la existencia, y os habla de valor. Su corazón le pedía el todo eterno, mientras su cabeza le enseñaba la nada, y desesperado y loco para defenderse de sí mismo, maldijo de lo que más amaba. Al no poder ser Cristo, blasfemó del Cristo. Henchido de sí mismo, se quiso inacabable y soñó la vuelta eterna, mezquino remedo de inmortalidad, y lleno de lástima hacia sí, abominó de toda lástima. ¡Y hay quien dice que es la suya filosofía de hombres fuertes! No; no lo es. Mi salud y mi fortaleza me empujan a perpetuarme. ¡Esa es doctrina de endebles que aspiran a ser fuertes, pero no de fuertes que lo son! Sólo los débiles se resignan a la muerte final, y sustituyen con otro el anhelo de inmortalidad personal. En los fuertes, el ansia de perpetuidad sobrepuja a la duda de lograrla, y su rebose de vida se vierte al más allá de la muerte.


Here the sensible folk turn to us, determined to avoid being taken in, and attack our ears with the cant that it is pointless to yield to insanity and kick against the pricks, for that which cannot be is impossible. Man's duty, they say, is to resign himself to fortune, and as we are not immortals, we should not desire to be such. We must submit ourselves to reason without grieving for what cannot be helped, accepting a life darkened and saddened by mortality. Obsession with life, they add, is an illness. Illness, madness, reason: the endless refrain! To that I say No. I do not submit to reason; I rebel against her, instead—seeking by the power of faith to make my God one that confers immortality, striving to bend the course of the stars by my will, for if we had faith like unto the seed of the mustard-plant, we would say to that mountain, "Get out!," and it would remove from before us, and nothing would be impossible to us (Matthew 27.20).

At this juncture you meet that notorious thief of our powers (†), who would himself pass that title on to Christ, seeking thereby to unite nihilism with the struggle for existence—a cowardly move, and yet he speaks to you of bravery. His heart asked for all eternity, while his head taught him the void of nothingness, and in a fit of desperate madness he cursed what he most loved, trying to defend himself against his own attack. Unable to become Christ, he blasphemed him. Full of himself, he wished to be endless and dreamed of the eternal return, a poor imitation of immortality. Swollen with self-loathing, he cursed all loathing. And yet some say that his is the philosophy of strong men! No, it is not. My health and fortitude push me to perpetuate myself. His doctrine, in contrast, belongs to weaklings that aspire to become strong, not to those already confident in their strength. Only the weak resign themselves to total death, supplanting the desire for personal immortality with some other appetite. In the strong, on the other hand, the longing for perpetuity overcomes all doubt of obtaining it, and life's abundance pours itself out beyond the boundary of death.


---
(†) A veiled reference to Nietzsche, whose doctrines Unamuno summarizes and rejects in the paragraph that follows. Friedrich Wilhelm Nietzsche (1844-1900) was born the son of a Lutheran pastor, and excelled early at religious studies. He began his university career at Bonn pursuing philology and theology, aiming to become a minister like his father. In the end, however, his studies led him to reject Christianity, as hopelessly entangled in the morality of European churches whose pedantic hypocrisy did not please him. He spent a little time trying to be a professor of classical philology at the University of Basel, but ultimately retired to write philosophy, beset with chronic ill health that dogged him to his early death. When Unamuno identifies his philosophy as emanating from a position of weakness, he has this history in mind. The doctrine of the eternal return holds, in brief, that every moment in the present is destined to come back somehow in future, flouting any attempt we might make to evade or change it. Destiny and mortality thus become inescapable and inalterable, in terms of consequence, leaving humanity to choose not whether we suffer but how. Nietzsche advocates suffering with joy (the dance recommended by his famous philosophical sage, Zarathustra), but holds out no prospect of escape. Unamuno does not want such happiness, preferring to believe that he will escape, though it seems impossible that he should. He also refuses to reject Christianity or the church, for reasons that his book will explain later. There is a certain irony here, as careful readers may note: Nietzsche's take on moral strength and weakness is actually rather close to Unamuno's, though he frames it in explicitly anti-Christian terms.