Responding to my criticisms of Nietzsche
I've heard this all before. Such defenses of Nietzsche, while erudite on the surface, is in fact a familiar apologetic maneuver—one that attempts to sanitize the philosopher’s contradictions by recasting them as provocations or misunderstood ironies. But such a reading fails to reckon honestly with the full weight of Nietzsche’s writings, their historical influence, and the metaphysical assumptions that undergird his entire project. Let me, therefore, eviscerate this perspective thoroughly.
To dismiss the critique as a “mystical projection” or “a priori judgment” is both lazy and evasive. It assumes that any challenge to Nietzsche that does not emerge from within *his* system is invalid, which is intellectually dishonest -- and a fallacy. Philosophical critique is not required to be internalist; indeed, some of the most potent critiques of any philosophical tradition come from without—especially when the tradition in question installs itself as an anti-tradition. Nietzsche’s work is not immune to external critique, especially from metaphysical or theological positions that he himself seeks to annihilate. One does not need to be a nihilist to criticize nihilism, nor a misogynist to critique misogyny.
Moreover, the term “mystical projection” is telling—it presumes that mysticism is by default irrational, escapist, or uncritical. Yet history teaches us that the mystical traditions (from Plotinus to Ibn ʿArabī to Simone Weil) offer some of the most rigorous ontological and ethical inquiries. In fact, Nietzsche’s own writing—rife with myth, symbolism, and ecstatic proclamation—is far closer to mystical expression than analytic clarity. The pot, in this case, accuses the cauldron of opacity.
The invocation of Nietzsche’s sister, Elisabeth, as the scapegoat for Nazi appropriation is the oldest trick in the Nietzschean apologetics playbook. Yes, Elisabeth doctored some materials. Yes, she was an Antisemite and a Nazi sympathizer. But this still does not exonerate Nietzsche himself. The disturbing strands of proto-fascist and anti-egalitarian thinking run explicitly through Nietzsche's own texts—from his vitriolic contempt for democracy and socialism to his obsession with hierarchy, domination, and breeding (see *On the Genealogy of Morals* and *The Will to Power*). One does not need *The Will to Power* to diagnose Nietzsche’s troubling politics; it is all plainly visible in *Beyond Good and Evil* and *The Antichrist*. That Hitler and the Nazis found Nietzsche useful—even in his “authentic” works—is not an accident. While Nietzsche was no nationalist and likely would have disdained Hitler personally, his vision of the Übermensch, the "transvaluation of values," and the celebration of cruelty and strength over compassion lent itself all too readily to fascist readings. It is disingenuous to blame this entirely on Elisabeth.
Yes, Heidegger called Nietzsche “the last metaphysician”—but not as a compliment. Heidegger’s judgment is that Nietzsche’s metaphysics, by reducing Being to will to power, represents the terminal phase of Western metaphysics, not its triumph. Nietzsche didn’t transcend metaphysics; he collapsed it into a raw, voluntarist monism. The will to power is not liberation from metaphysical systems, but their reconstitution in the most brutal, reductive form: power for its own sake. To take Heidegger’s statement as proof of Nietzsche’s philosophical “seriousness” is to misunderstand Heidegger’s project. For Heidegger, Nietzsche does not destroy metaphysics so much as expose its final degeneration—*the reduction of Being to force*. And this, from a metaphysical and theophanic perspective, is precisely the horror of Nietzschean thought: it enshrines the demonic as destiny.
The claim that Nietzsche “remained within the earthquake” rather than escaping it is a poetic excuse for philosophical collapse. Nietzsche did not remain within the crisis of modernity so much as surrender to it. The “wounded insight” celebrated here is, in truth, a disenchanted ressentiment—lashing out at the gods while secretly longing for them. Nietzsche is not Prometheus but a failed priest turned accuser. His ‘transvaluation of values’ does not build anything; it merely smashes. His psychology of modern man is indeed acute—but so what? A great diagnostician does not necessarily make a great healer. Diagnosis without cure is voyeurism, and Nietzsche gives us no medicine—only more poison.
Let me now address the apologia for Nietzsche’s misogyny. The attempt to defend the “whip” comment by attributing it to a fictional character (an old woman, no less) is a classic deflection. Nietzsche wrote the line. He included it. He gave it pride of place. That he put it in a character’s mouth only distances him formally, not philosophically. Nowhere does Zarathustra or Nietzsche himself repudiate the line. On the contrary, it fits seamlessly into Nietzsche’s other pronouncements about women—as deceptive, childlike, instinctual, dangerous, and incapable of logic. The three “positive” quotes provided here do not outweigh the dozens of denigrating statements he made elsewhere.
And what of this: “Woman wants to be possessed, wants to be conquered. That is her nature.” (Beyond Good and Evil, section 144). Or this: “Everything in woman is a riddle, and everything in woman has one solution: it is called pregnancy.” (*Thus Spoke Zarathustra*, “On the Friend”). These are not ironic jabs. They are assertions, repeated and unrepented. Thus, Nietzsche’s misogyny is not incidental; it is structural. It stems from his glorification of hierarchy, force, and the “masculine” virtues of domination. Woman, in his view, represents nature—but only as a force to be overcome. This is not a compliment; it is a **philosophical pathology**. Feminine being is denied subjectivity and reduced to aesthetic or reproductive function. To spiritualize this is to whitewash violence.
Finally, the claim that “true understanding” requires not condemnation but conversation is often used as a shield to protect deeply problematic thinkers from critique. Conversation does not mean acquiescence. One can confront Nietzsche seriously and still reject him categorically. The unwillingness to do so—especially in light of his explicit contempt for compassion, equality, and the weak—reveals less about Nietzsche than about his apologists.
In fact, the contemporary rehabilitation of Nietzsche often resembles a cult of genius, wherein his rhetorical flair and stylistic brilliance are mistaken for depth. But the role of philosophy is not to be dazzled by fireworks. It is to test the foundations—and Nietzsche’s foundation is nihilism masquerading as heroism. Nietzsche was a brilliant stylist, a sharp diagnostician of modern malaise, and a master of philosophical theatre. But he was also a metaphysical reductionist, a misogynist, and a proto-fascist thinker whose legacy continues to intoxicate generations with the glamour of abyssal power. To defend Nietzsche by appealing to misunderstood irony, selective quotations, and the crimes of his sister is to evade the gravity of his thought. The proper response to Nietzsche is not reverence but reckoning. And the only way forward is through critique that does not flinch before the veils of style, nor excuse the failure to love what is truly human.
