"I was born and came into the world to testify to the truth.
All who love the truth recognise that what I say is true."
"What is truth?" Pilate asked. [1]
Of all the many characters named in the New Testament, there is only one whom Nietzsche deems worthy of honour; Pontius Pilate, the man who governed Judea by the authority of Rome and held ultimate responsibility for determining that Jesus should be crucified.
It is, of course, a provocative choice; one that is guaranteed to delight some and offend others. But it's not simply designed to amuse or outrage his readers; Nietzsche has good reasons why Pilate captures his respect.
For one thing, Pilate displays noble indifference when confronted with the case of Jesus; he simply refuses to care about what is essentially a squabble amongst religious fanatics: "To regard a Jewish affair seriously - he cannot persuade himself to do that." [2]
In addition - and this is perhaps the key thing - Pilate is scornful of the concept of truth being advanced (or attested to) by Jesus.
For Nietzsche, the question: Quid est veritas? not only dismisses but destroys the entire basis of what will come to be known as Christianity as well as revealing Pilate to be a man who is unconcerned with the details of the matter brought before him (including the question of whether Jesus is guilty or not guilty of the charges made against him; whether he does or does not deserve to die).
Pilate may make a pretty poor governor, but he has an ironic and philosophical disposition and that's why Nietzsche admires him - he's disdainful of the very idea of Truth with a capital T (of truth as something one might not only live by but die for).
This is further revealed, of course, in his symbolic handwashing and the fact that, many years later, when asked about the case he has no memory of the Nazarene [3].
Mark Bauerlein provides the perfect paragraph with which to close:
"Nietzsche's Pilate, then, isn't a weak administrator trying to finesse a tricky adjudication. He is a cosmopolitan showing his superiority to parochial bickering. His question reduces Christianity from the truth of the world to a partisan contention. He doesn't attack Christianity; he transcends it.
[...] His entrance into the theater of the Passion is a virtuous and vigorous interruption of the Christian narrowing of life in all its energy and variety into a single, universal mode of being. Pilate's irony dissolves the historic reality before him into a show. While everyone else in the drama is committed to the outcome, Pilate stands apart, a disinterested observer, an anti-dogmatist wary of truth-seekers and religious types." [4]
Notes
[1] John 18: 37-38
[2] Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ, trans. R. J. Hollingdale, (Penguin Books, 1990), §46.
[3] I'm referring here to a fictional account given by Anatole France in his short story "Le Procurateur de Judée" (1892), which portrays an elderly Pilate who has been
banished to Sicily. When asked by a friend if he remembers the trial of Jesus, Pilate thinks for a moment and then replies that he cannot recall the case. An English translation of this tale by Michael Wooff is available as an ebook on Project Gutenberg: click here to read online.
[4] Mark Bauerlein, 'Nietzsche's Pilate', in First Things (August 2019): click here.
It is important to note that this most certainly isn't Bauerlein's own position. In fact, he no sooner says this than he slams on the brakes and fully reverses, dismissing modes of philosophical irony - be they pre-Nietzschean like Pilate's, or post-Nietzschean, like Richard Rorty's - as ultimately just sophisticated word games played by those who daren't make the leap into faith.
There's nothing ironic about Jesus, says Bauerlein, and his Passion makes Pilate's skepticism and cleverness simply appear glib. Those who pride themselves on their curbed enthusiasm and insincerity might mock, but, says Bauerlein, we need to rediscover "forces deeper than words" - forces such as devotion, conviction, and sacrifice ...
Readers interested in the first Easter post spent with the Anti-Christ, should click here.
For the 2019 version, click here.
And for the 2020 version, click here.
