Sprintzen’s account elucidates that even years before their falling out, Sartre and Camus held fundamentally different values regarding social revolt; the former emphasized material gain and practicality, while the latter prized the preservation morality and restraint.
Moreover, the developing Cold War between the United States and the Soviet Union furthered the existing divisions among France’s intellectual left, which the dialogue between Camus and Sartre would soon exhibit. Since its infrastructure and economy were in shambles following the war, France was dependent upon outside sources for its reconstruction effort. In accepting the much needed financial assistance provided by the United States’ Marshall Plan for Europe, France could proceed with reconstruction, but only at the cost of dissolving its international alliance with the USSR and subjecting itself to American and capitalist influence. European participation in the US-led military alliance known as the North Atlantic Treaty Organization (NATO) and the start of the Korean War “finalized the subordination of Europe in general, and France in particular, to U.S. military domination, and the alienation of much of France’s intelligentsia from the policies of its government” (49). Sartre and Camus were no exception to this alienation, but each developed different beliefs regarding how to best combat the injustices of the status-quo.
Initially, however, both Sartre and Camus rejected the perceived need to choose between either capitalism or communism. In 1948 Sartre sought a break between the Capitalist elements in France and the PCF by helping to establish the Revolutionary Democratic Movement political party (Rassemblement démocratique révolutionnaire or RDR). For his part, Camus took a less systemic approach through supporting autonomous trade unions and defending the politically oppressed. For Sartre, however, his participation in the RDR was short lived and the failure to craft a viable “third way” ultimately forced him, in his view, to align himself with communism. Maintaining his preoccupation with the interests of workers and a fierce anti-bourgeoisie disposition, Sartre increasingly came to believe that “the Communist Party at home and the Soviets internationally [were] the only forces committed to and capable of opposing the oppressive forces of Western capitalist imperialism” (51). Conversely, Camus, while not at all endorsing Capitalism, could not accept Communism – as it had been ruthlessly established and practiced in the Soviet Union – as a means to bring about proletariat justice. Camus held a principled anti-totalitarian stance that “led him to become a spokesman for all those who believe that the defense of human rights takes precedence over political expediency” (51). The differences in each philosopher’s fundamental values resulted in a vicious exchange between the two in the autumn of 1951: Camus accused Sartre of “fetishizing” the working class, while Sartre deemed Camus’ continued attempts at developing a third way and limited revolt as “unrealistic…[and] purely nonsensical” (57). The latter comments concerned Camus’ desire to “clarify the nature of a non-Marxist and non-Party left-wing political theory and practice” and would result in his writing The Rebel; a book which would finally cement the long developing rift between Sartre and Camus (57).
Culminating Conflict
Camus’ publication of The Rebel in 1951 evidenced his public reproach of the pro-communist intellectual establishment of France and provoked a response by Sartre and his followers that would eventually dissolve their once cherished friendship. Camus’ task, in general, was to analyze the metaphysical and historical aspects of rebellion and revolution. Philosophically, however, it was also an undeniable rebuke to Sartre’s conscious neglect of Soviet oppression, which subordinated political freedom to the promise of a transformed society. As a result, Camus condemned the practice of “mass murder in the name of some future and uncertain goal” and sought to “expose the revolutionary ideology that justified [such logic]” (61). Following this reasoning, Camus asserted further that the nature of modern revolutions tend to reinforce state power and, in the pursuit of utopia, often justify anything, even gross atrocities. Reflecting on the violence of the 20th century, Camus saw this process as self-defeating and believed that “any form of revolution that places abstract ends over the concrete demands of life is itself infected with the very nihilism is proposes to overcome” (62). In essence, for Camus it seemed that the Communists and their supporters were complicit with the absurd in their pursuit of social revolution; their tactics devalued the individual and promised more than they could ultimately deliver.
The initial response to Camus came from Sartre follower Francis Jeanson through a pieced titled “Albert Camus, or the Soul in Revolt” (Albert Camus ou l'âme révoltée) in the May 1952 edition of Sartre’s journal Les temps modernes. The main thrust of Jeanson’s critique revolved around the apparently transcendental attitude Camus took in characterizing the conditions of human agency. The distinction that Camus makes between true metaphysical rebellion against the conditions of life instituted by the absurd and revolutions which are a perversion of true rebellion appear all too absolutist to Jeanson:
At this elevated level of thought, theological quarrels can undoubtedly appear decisive, but this is certainly not the case for the simple existence of men who, for example, may be hungry and who…might take to struggle against those responsible for their hunger. (Jeanson qtd. in Sprintzen 87).
Camus addressed his response letter not to Jeanson, but “to the editor of Les temps modernes” (Sartre) and – using very deliberate language – referred to Jeanson as his “collaborator” asserting that Jeanson “[made] a travesty of the book he [set] out to criticize;” Camus’ reaction, exhibited his belief that “the collaborator” was more interested in defending communism than in sincerely considering the his ideas (Camus qtd. in Sprintzen 107). For example, while in the above quote Jeanson readily attacked Camus’ provision of morality over the existential needs of man, Camus criticized his reviewer for failing to address the widespread human suffering that was caused as result of dictatorial socialism and revolutionary violence.
Sartre’s response to Camus, however, would prove more vicious and direct than the one issued by Jeanson. In the same August 1952 issue of Les temps modernes that printed Camus’ response to Jeanson, Sartre issued his response to Camus in a pieced titled “Reply to Albert Camus” (Réponse à Albert Camus). Conceding the potential final end to their friendship Sartre begins his reply by stating “[o]ur friendship was not easy, but I will miss it” (131). Sartre then weighs in with a personal characterization of Camus, saying he will speak bluntly because, “the mixture of dreary complacency and vulnerability that typifies [Camus] always discouraged people from telling [him] unvarnished truths” (132). The truth evidently was that, in addition to the transcendental attitude Jeanson accused him of, and without any effective suggestion for a third-way, Camus’ questioning of Soviet bloodshed made him complicit in accepting the systemic oppression of capitalism. Sartre also felt that Camus misunderstood the nature of human freedom and history. Sartre believed that human freedom existed as “a project that lights our way and gives its meaning” to our historically situated existence; he thought Camus’ absolute moralism operated outside of this structure and represented and estrangement to the realities of existential life (65). Both Sartre and Jeanson believed that Camus’ metaphysical rebellion was simply not enough; that it yielded no clear results for its practitioner other than a perpetually “pointless confrontation with [the absurd]” (95).
Evaluation
In light of the historic political events surrounding Camus and Sartre, as well their exchanges in Les temps modernes, it is evident that what eventually divided the two was a difference concerning the value of means and ends. There is, however, substantially more to explore concerning the strength and worth of the positions Camus and Sartre held. For instance, through their written exchanges in Sartre’s journal one sees both a critique of Camus’ idealism by Sartre and a critique of Sartre’s realism by Camus. The distinctions, however, between the realism and idealism attributed to each philosopher’s thinking are certainly ambiguous. While Camus is condemned as an idealist because he stressed restraint on political action and refused to choose between capitalism and communism, he did so because he viewed the choices before him as inauthentic and playing into the hands of the absurd. In other words, approving of the violence inherent in each ideology – both systemic and overt – would only perpetuate the misery of the individuals it affected. Therefore, unless one wanted to increase the world’s absurdity and perpetuate the dynamics of historical struggle, the only effective and practical choice for Camus was not to choose. Similarly, Sartre’s emphasis on the necessity for proletariat progress, even if it be through violent means, is it self an idealist notion. Although Sartre cites the revolutionary nature of history in justifying progress by any means necessary, his logic plays into Camus’ critique that the former had made a religion out of history, where the pursuit of a revolutionary utopia for the world’s laborers – given the inherently flawed nature of humanity – could not realistically be seen as anything more than an ideal.
Given the apparent uselessness of ascribing idealist or realist labels to either thinker, rendering an effective judgment on the Camus-Sartre split may be helped by considering their distinct ontological views of the world. Sartre professed the existence of a radical freedom in the project of one’s life; this freedom allows a subjectivity to engage the world with meanings he ascribes to it. Following this logic it seems easy to justify class struggle, even when violent, if humanity can independently and effectively choose a particular set of values and history to pursue. The problem, however, is that if the world is no more than a collection of independent subjectivities, then one group’s claims to self-determination are no more or less valid than any other. Thus, in the pointless morass which results from the elimination of an absolute meaning from Sartre’s ontology, the charges leveled against Camus in Les temps modernes as being absolutist seem to lose their potency. It is not, however, the case that Camus maintains an absolute morality. Camus characterizes existence as absurd; a conflict between an uncaring universe and basic human desires where upon the only escape is a rebellion that affirms life. Rebellion is a personal matter until it begins to collaborate with the absurd and increase human misery; when this happens the rebellion is illegitimate may lead to the tyrannical and misguided revolutionary ventures that Camus outlines in The Rebel. Thus, the arbiter of human action has to be humanity itself, with an aim to reducing its collective despair, without violence, unless in defense of itself. In other words, one has freedom under Camus, like Sartre, with the exception that it may require restraint. In fact, it may be argued that in restraining oneself from certain action one is actually more free than he his under a Sartrean ontology because he prevents himself from being subject to the larger systemic forces of history. Although Sartre may object to this point – stating that while inaction keeps the individual morally pure, it comes at the cost of collective suffering – he would be ignoring the fact that not all action has be violent. It then seems that for the moralist, Camus offers something Sartre ultimately cannot: a course of action that maintains ethical imperatives.
On the whole, it is clear that despite the years since their split and eventual deaths, no conclusive evaluation regarding the intellectual separation between Camus and Sartre has yet to be made. While Sartre may have accused Camus of trying to transcend history, the centerpiece of their rift – a dispute over the value of means and ends – is a debate that existed long before their presence in history, and is sure to continue long after it as well. Although it is fair to criticize Camus’ outlook as demanding, perhaps even untenable for the oppressed he and Sartre concerned themselves with, it is unfair to state that he was complicit with the crimes of capitalism. As Camus would later say about politics, “I am not made for [it] because I am incapable of wanting or accepting the death of the adversary” (70). Camus was a moralist and more importantly a thinker; his actions were not reflective of a coward or collaborator, but of an individual determined not to contribute further to the absurdity of existence.
Works Cited
Sprintzen, David A., et al. Sartre and Camus: A Historic Confrontation. New York: Humanity Books, 2004.
