RESUMEN: Frankl abre una puerta a la esperanza con la dimensión suprahumana, define la religión como la búsqueda del sentido último y apuesta por una fe incondicional que otorga sentido al sufrimiento de las víctimas. Unamuno, angustiado y sufriente, se bate con su fe (una fe dubitativa –la duda, aunque se transforme en agonía, es crucial para Unamuno). Unamuno cree porque anhela creer (por necesidad); Frankl cree existencialmente (por de- cisión). En este artículo expongo los diferentes acercamientos de Frankl y (...) Unamuno a la fe (exponiendo también las tesis de otros filósofos, teólogos y supervivientes de la Shoah) y muestro cómo estas aproximaciones abren una puerta a la esperanza (y al sentido del sufrimiento de las víctimas de la Shoah). / Palabras clave: dimensión suprahumana, escatología, esperanza, fe dubitativa, fe in- condicional, Holocausto, inmortalidad, Shoah, sufrimiento de las víctimas, Unamuno, Viktor Frankl. /// ABSTRACT: Frankl opens a door to hope with the suprahuman dimension, defines religion as the search for an ultimate meaning and has an uncoditional faith that gives meaning to the victims' suffering. Unamuno, anguished and suffering, struggles with his faith (a faith which is a doubting faith –doubt, even if it turns into agony, is crucial for Unamuno). Unamuno believes because he longs to believe (out of necessity); Frankl believes existen- tially (out of decision). In this paper, I discuss Frankl's and Unamuno's different ap- proaches to faith (presenting theses of other philosophers, theologians and Shoah survivors as well), showing how these approaches open a door to hope (and to the meaning of the suffering of the victims of the Shoah). / Keywords: doubting faith, eschatology, Holocaust, hope, immortality, Shoah, supra- human dimension, Unamuno, unconditional faith, victims' suffering, Viktor Frankl. (shrink)

The political philosopher Leo Strauss is famous for contending that any synthesis of reason and revelation is impossible, since they are irreconcilable antagonists. Yet he is also famous for praising the secular regime of liberal democracy as the best regime for all human beings, even though he is well aware that modern philosophers such as Spinoza thought this regime must make use of biblical morality to promote good citizenship. Is democracy, then, both religious and secular? Strauss thought that Spinoza was (...) contradictory in teaching that reason and revelation should be separated from each other while also insisting that a secular democratic politics still requires the biblical morality of charity. The paradox that liberal democracy is both religious and secular, which is central to Spinoza, was dismissed by Strauss as a Machiavellian subterfuge or the cynical attempt to use religion for political purposes. In order to adhere to his dualistic separation of reason and revelation, Strauss turned to ancient Greek political philosophy, particularly the ideas of Plato and Aristotle, as the true ground of liberal democracy since this classical tradition was never exposed to biblical revelation. Yet, the illiberal and hierarchical implications of Greek political thought, which clash with Strauss’s modern views on human individuality and dignity, ultimately take him back to the biblically based philosophies of Spinoza and Kierkegaard, who teach the paradox that the Bible is the true foundation of human freedom. (shrink)

El acontecimiento radical simbolizado por Auschwitz sigue demandando una articulación discursiva, un pensamiento “después de”, setenta y cinco años después de la liberación de los campos. ¿Tiene Auschwitz esa relevancia y significación universal? ¿Son las implicaciones de este acontecimiento tan vinculantes que le hacen trascender los límites de su propia y radical particularidad? Determinar el significado de un acontecimiento como el que simboliza el lager de Auschwitz ha sido y sigue siendo un reto para el pensamiento,con profundas implicaciones estéticas, metafísicas (...) y ético-políticas. (shrink)

by no means unusual that a thinker develops a theory, the full purport and significance of which is still hidden to himself.” Cassirer was echoing no less a personage than Kant himself. Kant had written long before: “… it is by no means unusual, upon comparing the thoughts which an author has expressed in regard to his subject, whether in ordinary conversation or in writing, to find that we understand him better than he has understood himself. As he has not (...) sufficiently determined his concept, he has sometimes spoken, or even thought, in opposition to his own intention.”2 May we take our lead from Kant here? May we understand Dooyeweerd better than he understood himself, even to the point of attributing to him a view or views that would appear to be “in opposition to his own intention”? It may sound a little strange, but something of this sort seems to have been underway among Dooyeweerd interpreters for quite some time. Many have started from the assumption that Dooyeweerd and Vollenhoven held to essentially the same position. Now, since there were some widely acknowledged differences, something would have to yield, and what often yielded was Dooyeweerd. It was thought that in essence Dooyeweerd was saying what Vollenhoven had also been saying. One could therefore allow for an error in Dooyeweerd here or there — perhaps even a “contradiction” — while continuing to hold him in high esteem. (shrink)