The Methodology of Fascism

Eyvaz Taha - May 22, 2011

In an era marked by rising misinformation and ideological extremism, understanding the mechanisms behind fascist ideology and conspiracy thinking has become critically urgent. Both rely on confusion—particularly the conflation of impulse with thought—and invert the rational process by starting with conclusions and selectively searching for evidence. Unlike philosophy, which moves from known truths toward new insights, conspiracy theories reverse this method, undermining the pursuit of truth.

At the heart of both fascism and conspiracism lies a shared assumption: that fear is the root of all phenomena. This belief, accepted without question, becomes self-reinforcing—demanding no proof and discouraging scrutiny. As a result, emotional reactions often take precedence over rational evaluation, eroding the foundations of critical thinking and debate.

This dynamic is not confined to authoritarian regimes. Across the political spectrum, movements that claim to defend freedom often justify oppressive means in pursuit of their ends. In doing so, they mirror the very forces they oppose, sacrificing truth and transparency in the process. When judgments are based not on reasoned ideas but on perceived intentions, scientific inquiry suffers, intellectual development stalls, and societies retreat into ideological echo chambers.

These patterns transcend national and cultural boundaries. In the Soviet Union, thought was reduced to expressions of class loyalty, simplifying complex ideas into rigid binaries. Similarly, in contemporary Azerbaijani society, knowledge and belief are frequently intertwined, with truth evaluated through subjective intentions rather than objective reasoning. This blurring of lines between thought and impulse, belief and fact, weakens the ability to engage in meaningful discourse.

For values such as freedom, justice, and critical thinking to flourish, societies must commit to transparency, rational dialogue, and political tolerance. Without these, ideological romanticism and emotional reasoning will continue to obscure truth and hinder progress. Recognizing and addressing the dangerous inversion of thought and impulse is essential to defending intellectual freedom and fostering genuine understanding.

(1) Introduction: Impulse and Thought

Fascism is rooted in blood and soil. In other words, within a defined geographic territory, fascists place their own lineage (race) above all others. Hitler declared in 1938:

“The main objective of National Socialism is to subordinate liberal individualism and Marxist humanitarianism, and replace them with a ‘massed community’. The root of such a society is in soil, its unity in blood.”

These points—“blood” and “soil”—are merely the content of fascism. What is more important is its methodology: the conflation of impulse and thought. This conflation cannot arise from any known theory except the conspiracy theory.

From a logical standpoint, impulse and thought are not opposites. Yet fascism gains legitimacy by systematically conflating them. This method carries notable weight in the modern world in two ways:

1. Although there isn’t a fully fascist regime today, many doctrinaire states, groups, and individuals apply fascist methods in their thinking and behavior. In other words, fascism is neither remote nor merely the legacy of Mussolini, Hitler, or Franco—it remains an active behavioral pattern.

2. This method is not exclusive to fascism—it is relevant to any political illegitimacy. The more illegitimate a regime’s immorality, the more inevitably it uses this method.

Every “thought, word, emotion, and action” is linked with an intention or impulse. The French philosophers called the interplay of impulse and thought “enlightening the mind”. Psychology’s greatest successes have illuminated this relationship. According to Allport, the impulse that drives behavior and thought originates within the individual's organism itself. According to Kelly, the impulse does not just generate thought—it also draws from previous experiences for its motivation.

However, those who believe in conspiracy theories draw mistaken conclusions from the above statements. They begin by analyzing a person's internal world rather than their ideas. In effect, they began to examine impulses rather than the actual thoughts or words. If they suspect those impulses to be unsavory, they conclude—even if unwarranted—that the resulting thought is also flawed. This approach is a central part of the fascist worldview. With such a method, any individual, institution, or social structure can have its ideas dismissed as malicious intentions.

We see this logic in nearly all human thinking. So, what exactly is the danger? The conspiracy-theory method cannot in ordinary circumstances alter the flow of thought—it becomes dangerous only when it is tied to power, or gains support through established information systems. When those determined to win power—or official institutions—adopt it, it can lead to ethnic wars or even mass massacres and genocide. Because in demonizing intentions, the thought itself may be devalued or dehumanized, regardless of its truth. At that point, convincing them with arguments is pointless—destroying the intention becomes the only goal, even if force becomes necessary.

The systematic ideological use of conflating impulse and thought has no doubt practical and destructive strength. But the most insidious aspect is: intent is always hidden or inexplicable. Therefore, claims about the origins of people’s ideas or actions—presented as fact—are in reality just assumptions or suspicions. In contrast, thoughts are subject to logical debate, evidence, and falsifiability. Impulses—being hidden—cannot stand up to scientific scrutiny.

We must note that there are two types of explanation in rigorous discourse:

1. Proof (evidence), which corresponds to thought.

2. Causation, which corresponds to impulse.

Thought can be clarified by evidence; impulse can only be discovered, not proven. From this split, we can say that our approach to any phenomenon can be either ethical or scientific. Ethical discourse evaluates “good/bad”; science evaluates “true/false.” When these two perspectives are deliberately mixed, we fall into the methodology of fascism.

We must emphasize that moral judgments about impulses (e.g. “That intent is evil”) cannot replace scientific reasoning or evidence. Labeling a question or intent as “demonic” does not exempt us from accountability about its truth or falsity. Ultimately, one’s intentions—whether evil or noble—must not replace logical measures of correctness.

In this article, we investigate two key issues: (1) the hidden nature of impulse, and (2) the conflation of impulse and thought. Our initial hypothesis is that followers of conspiracy theory tend to assume impulses are more important than thoughts, and then begin to judge thoughts based on suspected impulses. Accordingly, before we investigate this theory further, we must examine the method itself, rather than prematurely dissect conspiracy theories.

According to some people, everything that happens in the human world is not the result of a clash between thoughts, desires, and actions, but rather the outcome of conspiracies concocted by those who hold wealth and power. As if, without the intrigues and corruptions of enemy forces, no social conflicts would occur, and no hardships like poverty would exist to create this mountain-like injustice.

Based on this assumption, when we try to explain social developments, the “conspiracy theory” inevitably comes into play. As stated by its first prominent expositor, Karl Popper, the main objective of this mindset is as follows:

“All the bad things that happen in society—like wars, poverty, and unemployment, which we hate—must necessarily be the result of someone’s evil intention or a disastrous plan. There must certainly be someone who deliberately caused them, and of course, someone must have benefited from it. In other words, according to this theory, the basis of explaining social events lies in discovering which individuals or groups are behind them, who have a vested interest in these events, benefit from them, and plot for their realization.” [3]

Footnotes and Explanations:

• [1] Methodology of Fascism

• [2] Dürtü (Drive): A motivating force or impulse. Drive is the factor that inclines a person to act in order to meet their needs. Hartley considers “Drive,” “Need,” and “Motive” to be three names for the same cause. A drive is a bodily state in which physical energy is mobilized toward something lacking in the environment, guiding the person like a selective tool. Some believe that drives are bodily states felt as excitement. Therefore, "drive" refers to the internal pressure states that underlie human effort, behavior, and reactions.

• [3] The social theory of conspiracy: "Conspiracy theory" is a well-known term in political philosophy. I am aware that the word "theory" in this phrase might be misleading for readers. Terms like "conspiratorial view" or "conspiratorial approach" might better convey what we mean. However, the widespread recognition of this phrasing globally compelled me to stick with the existing terminology.

• [4] A priori knowledge: Knowledge independent of experience, but which can be activated or made meaningful through experience.

• [5] Proposition: In classical logic, it is the verbal expression of a judgment, something that can be either true or false. Contemporary logicians have drawn attention to the fact that in addition to statements that are clearly true or false, there are also indeterminate propositions. In science and philosophy, theories are built upon propositions that have passed through logical or empirical filters. However, in conspiracy theory, the propositions that are asserted are not subject to any test or verification.

(2) The Hidden Nature of Impulse 

Conspiracy seeds hatch inside and remain dormant until conditions for germination emerge. Hence, uncovering conspiracies — identifying them — is not limited to the surface geography of daily life. On the contrary, these efforts delve into people’s inner dark domains, searching for traces of possible impulses in the depths of memory. Proponents of conspiracy theory pursue exactly this: they enter the mind’s obscured regions to find the hidden refuge of the impulse (i.e. the internal motivating force behind thought and action).

Impulse drives all living beings into motion. Without it, thought and action could not emerge in consciousness. Yet, as conspiracy theorists claim, can we truly identify impulses reliably? Or do they instead draw false conclusions from flawed premises?

Impulse is concealed and secretive. Learning about it or validating it is extremely difficult—even psychologists struggle. Sometimes, even two or more psychologists studying a person’s impulses begin from the same starting point but diverge to different conclusions. Sigmund Freud argued that even when individuals try to identify and analyze their inner drives, they often remain unaware of their true impulses. For instance, when researchers examine goals and needs to understand an impulse, they face a complex situation: similar needs may correspond to dissimilar drives, or a single goal may stem from multiple, separate impulses. Moreover, human behavior is not governed by a simple, singular impulse. Impulses are shaped by historical and cultural trajectories, deeply embedded across diverse domains—making them inherently difficult to detect within conscious awareness.

From a psychological standpoint, impulse is not merely a private issue; it's impossible to grasp it wholly through others’ interpretations. It is a hypothesis, not a provable fact. As Hannah Arendt observed, “Impulse is like a hidden realm; it hesitates to reveal itself even to its bearer. When we attempt to examine the spirit, often the harbor is still veiled within the person.” Thus, uncovering impulse—revealing it to oneself or others—is a wishful but shaky hope. This process may even expose individuals with impulses to hypocrisy: once the impulse is displayed, our orientation toward the person can turn toxic and judgmental. Efforts to illuminate or make visible hidden intent—or to bring it into focus—paradoxically subject it to the glare of public judgment, deepening its shame.

In authoritarian or totalitarian regimes, official ideology conflates faith with social position, demanding loyalty not as a matter of conviction but as a social asset. True belief, however, is unstable and cannot be externally demonstrated. As soon as a system attempts to coerce internal belief expression—by demanding proof of ideological purity—the emotional fragility of that belief becomes apparent. Those who pretend to believe, yet benefit from the system’s rewards, often perform belief more convincingly than true believers. Deception begets deception.

Where does obsessive interest in impulse come from?

Despite the impulse’s hidden and elusive nature, those who assume the presence of conspiracies begin to probe why impulses fluctuate or intensify. If defining impulse is itself complex, why attempt such an arduous investigation? The reason is clear: assuming impulse is shared or collective simplifies the task for conspiracy theorists. They can claim surface-level anxiety or fear as evidence of deep-seated intent, demanding arguments and evidence to prove otherwise. Yet searching those dark corridors of the psyche is not as hard as constructing ideological legitimacy: suspicion becomes a potent ideological tool, enabling power abuses.

In totalitarian power structures, even if officials possess psychological insight into impulses, verifying them through evidence is nearly impossible. That does not stop them from declaring “We assume that impulse exists”—and using that assumption to suppress dissent. Once one presumes something “must” lie beneath the surface, no proof or contrary argument is needed: the mere suspicion becomes self-validating. Philosophically, it is the opposite of genuine inquiry: instead of starting from premises and reasoning outwards, conspiracy logic works in reverse—presuming a conclusion and then projecting it back. The most complete principle of philosophy is the principle [principium]. Philosophy starts from certain beginnings and moves from the unknown to enlightenment. However, in conspiracy theory, it goes from a known conclusion back to unknown premises. We try to prove what we know and what we believe. But the truth is greater than what fits into the scope of human capacity. Humans, in contrast, are much smaller than the greatest truth they will reach.

Those who believe in conspiracy theories always take a long time to fall into the trap of experience! Thus, such a theory is neither confirmed nor denied. Those who do not believe in it can neither accept nor reject it. The conspiracy theory is an assertion that arises from the trial of understanding that we mentioned. Therefore, if you are a victim of a conspiracy, no matter how harshly you speak about which conspiracy you are involved in, you will face more accusations. Because your harsh objection and your awareness of this participation will itself be used as evidence of conspiracy! What foolish argument can be considered sound? A person with a conspiracy mindset can argue about legitimacy, ignoring the examples and evidence of denial.

No matter how pure and sacred human mental beings or inner worlds are, they are cowardly in the face of ugly stains. In other words, the purity of a conspiracy cannot be proven; trying to prove its purity corrupts it. Because a conspiracy beating in the depths of the heart, no matter how much it is revealed and presented before ordinary people's eyes, will cause jealousy rather than insight. According to Hannah Arendt, "The shining of thought in the eyes of the crowd illuminates it. Thought without interest dies; with interest, it begins to shine. However, thought with the characteristic of 'openness' differs from thoughts whose existence is even hidden from this feature — the conspiracy hidden behind actions is revealed and decays in its essence like a thief."

It is clear that the contradictory logic of conspiracies creates favorable opportunities for governments, groups, and individuals with a conspiratorial outlook to bring their claims to proof. Unfortunately, this methodological deviation does not only benefit authorities; sometimes those who lose power also fall into this obsession. Their goal is to obtain acquittal. The struggle for freedom seems to be right by trampling freedom. Thus, strong sources of power or dictatorial governments and resistance centers with a conspiratorial view are trapped in the same way of thinking. One finds freedom, the other sees the way to freedom only in cruelty. In both cases, as a result, truth can become a sacrifice by credibility. The most important thing in both cases is that defending the purity of the conspiracy before the accusations made is impossible. No one can prove the purity of their intention; logically, defeat is with you. Because one cannot reject the accusations about the ugliness of their own interior conspiracy; therefore, attempts to prove the health of the conspiracy itself contaminate it with ugliness.

The weak point of this closed circle is, of course, the liberating nature of thought. The spread and gaining of interest of thought depend above all on its internal potential (its high content and logical structure). The mechanism aimed at the production of powerful thought eventually nullifies conspiracy theory. Individuals, organizations, and governments who assume history and social fields as the playthings of conspirators remain in an inevitable situation in the final outcome of the wars they wage against thought—the loss of legitimacy.

Footnotes:

• Subjecte [1]: The subject who perceives the world; in Persian: فاعل شناسا

• [2] Power structures: Persian: ساختارهای قدرت

• [3] A priori: Knowledge independent of experience but capable of being animated through it; Persian: پیشاتجربی

• [4] "Justifying the means by the end": The idea that the ends validate the use of any means; Persian equivalent: توجیه وسیله به واسطه‌ی هدف

(3) Confusing Discourse with Intention

Conspiracy theory does not only benefit from the inaccessibility or secrecy of facts, but also extensively exploits the confusion between discourse and intention. It can be stated unequivocally that the main pillar of conspiratorial thinking is the confusion between discourse and intention. The purpose of this conflation is to interpret judgments and characteristics of discourse as if they directly reflect the speaker's intention. In doing so, the distinction between "speech" and the "speaker" is blurred. The truth or falsehood of the discourse is determined based on the presumed intentions of the speaker.

Allow me to use an ethical analogy: confusing discourse with intention is not just a flaw in scientific inquiry—it forms the foundation of ignorance-based theories. This minor error, when situated at the core of scientific methodology, leads to the severe consequence of making genuine learning impossible. In such learning processes, one merely hears the echo of their own intention and reaffirms their existing belief. (We must also recognize this confusion as one of the root causes behind the failure of revolutions and social movements.)

Let’s examine this issue from another perspective. For example, studying the historical background of an event or returning to its original source cannot by itself explain the nature of that event. This does not imply that the historical context is unimportant—quite the opposite. What is at issue is the attempt to derive the essence of a phenomenon solely from its historical background. Many people associated poverty with astrology. But it's inaccurate to analyze Newton's brilliant laws of motion solely through the context of his poverty (or later wealth).

This kind of confusion can be examined among more relevant factors. Before the structuralists, the past history of a phenomenon was often confused with its current nature. But inspired by Saussure, it was understood that the creator of an artistic work and its sources differ from the work itself. "According to the founders of this school, following only the history of a phenomenon will not help us understand how it functions. A society can be understood not merely by tracing its history, but by studying how its various parts relate to each other. For example, the primary function of language is to facilitate human interaction. The historical development of language and its current form are distinct problems. One cannot understand a phenomenon’s nature by merely investigating its history," [9] because the factors that led to the emergence of a historical event are usually different from the essence of the event.

Take a long-standing institution as an example. Even if we know that this institution was founded on dark intentions, we cannot interpret the results of a research project carried out by this institution solely in light of those dark intentions. The subjects studied and the outcomes derived must be measured by scientific standards, not by the ethical worldview of the researchers. At the head of these standards stands objectivity. The measure of objectivity is how well it aligns with reality. When an outsider sees the reasons proposed for an event as logical, the research gains more scientific credibility. Of course, researchers may be lazy or biased, mentally disturbed or healthy, loyal or traitorous. These are indeed discrepancies and fall outside the bounds of scientific standards. But such flaws should be judged ethically, while the findings must be tested through scientific methods.

Even within institutions established entirely on conspiracy-based theories, non-conspiratorial fields must not be overlooked. Humans' deliberate actions often result in unintended consequences. (In fact, sociology's main task is to study these unintended results.) A key example of such institutions is Orientalist organizations. These were born from colonial fears to study Eastern societies and exploit their cultural heritage. It is clear that they operated under dubious motives. Nevertheless, it would be incorrect to evaluate the scientific results of their research solely in light of these motives. Look at prominent Orientalists like Nicholson, Massignon, Nöldeke, Barthold, Goldziher, Margoliouth, Rosenthal, and Annemarie Schimmel—all of whom produced valuable work, regardless of the colonial powers backing them. Although colonial powers used these works for domination, the scientific merit of the research is a separate matter. Even Edward Said’s influential Orientalism [10], despite its brilliant and pessimistic analysis, acknowledges the genuine pursuit of truth evident in these scholars. The love for truth cannot be denied—even if colonial empires exploited the findings.

This distinction is reflected in a religious anecdote: “Don’t look at who’s speaking—look at what is being said!” Ignoring this difference means replacing scientific validation with ethical judgment. Arguments about truth and falsehood would then be weighed on a moral scale, and many scientific discoveries would appear as mere ravings or delusions. For instance, when analyzing the works of a great sociologist like Max Weber through the lens of his emotional state, one risks confusing scientific standards with psychological interpretation. It's not difficult to uncover Weber’s psychological struggles, but that doesn’t invalidate his work. For example, Max Weber, in The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism [11], presents sharp arguments linking Protestantism to capitalism’s development. Yet, Weber himself was deeply depressed. Should his mental health negate the value of his ideas?

Leon Trotsky, for example, separated the aesthetic value of an artwork from the personality of its creator. When he heard Wagner’s Twilight of the Gods, he thought of death—not because he liked Wagner (who was associated with the bourgeoisie and later favored by Nazis), but because of the originality and beauty of the composition. Trotsky admired the piece, though not the person. In contrast, Stalin was a master at confusing art with ideology. As Bertrand Russell noted, Stalin forced even apolitical matters into political judgment. If he disliked a musical piece, its composer was labeled a regressive bourgeois.

Let’s return to Max Weber. When the Great Soviet Encyclopedia labeled him a "bourgeois sociologist" [15], it created the ideal environment to interpret his work not as it is, but as they wished it to be. It was as if class affiliation determined the truth of one’s ideas. However, Herbert Marcuse argues that linking a work to a particular social class does not reduce its originality. If someone dislikes Weber and wishes to reject him, they can always find other pretexts. For example, they might psychoanalyze his emotional wounds and thus lead readers away from his scholarly achievements.

We know that at the beginning of 1898, Weber was severely affected by depression, which forced him to stop teaching and reading for four years. His relationship with a soft-natured but mentally unstable woman exacerbated his condition, and he later blamed himself for the failed love. Moreover, he harbored deep resentment toward his father, and shortly after confronting him, his father died—causing Weber even more emotional turmoil. His closeness to his mother and his animosity toward his father resembled an “Oedipus complex.” [6]

It’s easy for someone inclined to confuse discourse with intention to use these facts to claim that Weber's sociology was merely a reflection of his neuroses. They might label his work as delusional, unrelated to science. They might argue that his writings are projections of his "Oedipal" trauma—an interpretation seemingly in line with Freudian analysis. However, such a person would fail. The study of class relations and Weber’s psychological issues do not diminish the value of his intellectual contributions. Although his depression may suggest plenty of flaws, this is nothing more than an illusion. Scientific objectivity is unrelated to his psychological background or social class. Therefore, academic circles value Weber's methodological innovations as some of the greatest contributions to the humanities, regardless of his personal suffering.

There are many people like this. From authoritarian rulers to renowned sociologists like Talcott Parsons, even the best can fall into the error of confusing discourse with intention. For example, some early functionalist sociologists, because they prioritized the maintenance of social institutions, could not avoid this error. American sociologist Elton Mayo, for instance, argued that when managers accuse workers of poor cooperation, this proves the workers must be ill. If we compare this claim to psychological observations, the issue becomes clearer.

Some psychologists try to analyze behavior by uncovering hidden motives or unconscious traumas. They try to bring repressed instincts from the subconscious to the surface. In the early stages of psychoanalysis, the therapist and patient often had a hostile dynamic. The therapist accused the patient without offering solutions: “Your problem stems from a childhood complex. Or it is the result of an instinct suppressed by your ego.” If the patient objected, the therapist would say, “That denial itself proves the existence of the complex.” In the example of managers and workers, the same logic is applied: if a worker resists managerial views, that resistance itself becomes proof of their illness.

Theodor Adorno writes in his brilliant book Aesthetic Theory: “When a female painter tells her psychiatrist that the village landscapes in his office are tasteless, he diagnoses this as aggression on her part.” [20] But neither the artwork itself nor the viewer’s emotional response can be reduced to subconscious drives. That is a superficial and reductive interpretation. A work of art is not a test of one's ability to comprehend meaning—it is something far more.

Reflection and Thought in the Story of the Foolish Man

In the tale of the foolish man who became fond of the moon’s affection, the great poet Jalal al-Din Rumi touches upon the interplay between intuition and reasoning. Through this story, Rumi effectively illustrates the outcome of "searching for the clarity of words under the light of hidden instincts." The man saved the moon from the dragon’s jaw, and this act sparked a sense of attachment in the moon’s heart toward him. Wherever he went, the moon loyally followed him like a devoted guardian.

When the man, exhausted from his journey, laid his head down to rest, the moon took it upon itself to look after him. A traveler passing by saw the moon and asked in astonishment about the reason for its behavior. After the man told the tale of the dragon and the moon, the traveler said:

“To befriend a naïve creature like the moon is worse than befriending an enemy. My heart trembles at the idea of you walking in the forest with such a companion.”

The foolish man, instead of thinking positively about the traveler’s advice, interpreted his words as stemming from jealousy and hostility. By perceiving the traveler’s suggestions as the product of suspicion rather than sound reasoning, he concluded that the words spoken were untrue:

“Go away! Don’t carry my burden,
Stop sticking your nose into everything and annoying me.
You envy the love my friend has for me,
And worry so deeply about my affairs that you attack my devoted friend.”

This baseless suspicion added nothing to the fool’s understanding. Without assessing whether the traveler’s words were true or false, he presumed malicious intent. The result was clear: he doomed himself. The moon, in trying to chase away a fly that had landed on the foolish man's face, hurled a large stone at his head—killing him.

Footnotes (summarized for clarity):

1. The Islamic Encyclopedia: One of the major reference works in Turkish libraries. Encyclopedias in Turkish, Arabic, and Persian have all been influenced by it. A portion of it is translated into Persian as "Dāneshnāme-ye Irān o Eslām."

2. Edward Said (1935–2003): A well-known 20th-century intellectual born in Jerusalem. He later moved to the U.S. and studied at Harvard. As a Palestinian thinker, he uniquely argued that Orientalism serves Western power interests.

3. Leon Trotsky (1879–1940): A leader of the Russian Revolution and a close ally of Lenin. He opposed Stalin's authoritarianism and was eventually exiled and assassinated in Mexico by Soviet agents.

4. Richard Wagner (1813–1883): A German composer born in Leipzig, known for revolutionizing the opera genre despite being a difficult personality. Many consider him one of the greatest opera composers of all time.

5. Trotsky criticized a novel titled "The Conquest of Europe" as a "typical bourgeois novel" because it portrayed human solidarity as something separate from revolutionary truth.

6. Oedipus Complex: Refers to the Greek myth where Oedipus unknowingly kills his father and marries his mother. After learning the truth, he blinds himself and lives in poverty and exile.

7. "Ālizliq": A proposed better Azerbaijani equivalent for the commonly used words for "illness" or "sickness" like "xəstəlik" or "məriżlik." This suggestion was made in Varlıq magazine (autumn & winter 1999, pp. 54–60).

8. Functionalism: A school of sociology that analyzes social events and institutions based on their functions in society. It tends to resist change and prioritizes social stability. American sociologist Talcott Parsons (1902–1979) is a major figure in this school, known for "Social Structure and Personality" and "The Social System."

(4) Truth or Falsehood in Thought, and the Good or Evil of Intention

I said that the truth or falsehood of a thought does not depend on whether the intention behind it is good or bad.

High ideals such as freedom, justice, and critical thinking require a transparent environment, rationality, and political tolerance (in the sense of enduring opposing ideas). Otherwise, the struggle for freedom can end up trampling over freedom itself. This is precisely why I say: the confusion between emotion (instinct) and thought, when done knowingly, is the lifeblood of intolerance. Because this very ambiguity becomes the source of legitimacy for political romantics. In other words, they hide in a fog of ambiguity to avoid becoming a target of criticism. Fighting a shadow in the fog is exhausting.

This is the contradictory nature of ideology: on one hand, it is obsessed with one-dimensional, clear-cut concepts; on the other, it turns a blind eye to contradictory realities. Intolerant groups often obsessively repeat ethical or idealistic slogans. Sometimes, they promote nostalgic emotions without grasping their true meaning, presenting them as if they were clear goals. In the end, as these repetitions lose vitality, the words become charged with emotional energy, yet no longer carry their original meanings. They shout "freedom"—but what they actually mean is despotism.

In such an unbalanced and confused situation, the masses seek someone to idolize. This is how fascism emerges. Fascism is extreme nationalism. A fascist leader like Hitler claimed that the right to rule belonged only to the “superior race.” But history shows us that this idea of racial superiority is merely a cover. Fascism is simply the old coercion in a new guise: a desire to forcibly legitimize the dominance of one race, religion, or political belief over others.

As I mentioned earlier, all this is a matter of content. Different forms of content merge through various methods, and one of these is the confusion of instinct and thought—eventually leading to instinct being valued above thought.

When instinct is prioritized over thought, hands are freed, but minds are shackled. Those who exalt instinct over thought imprison the intellect, giving free rein to emotion. They undermine logic and gift dominance to vulgarity. In place of clear thinking, hidden motives spin around. Suspicious assumptions sit where reasoning should. Arbitrary accusations replace just judgments. Ignorance becomes sacred, and intellect is sacrificed. In the absence of reason, nonsense is no longer even seen as shameful.

Rumi’s warning is precisely this: As long as the veins on the neck bulge, there is no need for strong argument.

Where there is logic, there is also critique; where there is critique, personal vendettas disguised as analysis and ideological madness masquerading as eloquence cannot prevail easily. Factional literature, literary cliques, and provincial biases in art may try to walk tall, but they limp. Prejudice is defeated by reason. A solid idea or creative work is not praised or condemned simply because it comes from a friend or foe. Every thought is judged by the degree of rational content it carries. Prejudice has no place here. Prejudice, like hatred, harms the self before the other. Of course, this takes a society one step backward from rationality.

This prejudice is the twin of the rigid dogmatism found in ideologies. The encouraging thing is: in our case, dogmatism is unorthodox and behaves boldly, without fear or shame. It lies to our faces. And while it may succeed in the short term, in the long run, it discredits itself.

Elsewhere, I’ve said this: at the root of the problem of emotional extremism lies a serious issue—the confusion of belief and knowledge. In Azerbaijani society, there is a deep-seated confusion born of ideology. For us, knowledge and belief are not separate. They've melted and merged together. While in Western civilization these two categories—belief and knowledge—have long been contested and differentiated, in our case everything is "clear." We look at knowledge through the lens of our belief. We interpret ideas based on instinct and intention. “Your thought is false,” we say, “because your intention is evil.”

But in reality, the truth or falsehood of a thought is not determined by the goodness or badness of the intention.

Civilization begins with the ability to separate these two.
Richard Rorty says:

“Plato laid the cornerstone of intellectual life by distinguishing knowledge from belief, and appearance from reality.”

Since the 18th century, the human sciences have tried to separate knowledge from ethics and belief. This has given humans greater power to understand the world around them. The characteristic known as objectivity in science emerged from this distinction.

Footnotes (summarized):

1. It’s no coincidence that when talking about literature and thought, many of our intellectuals overuse terms like “courage,” “honesty,” and “hypocrisy.” But how does courage or duplicity relate to literary criticism? Isn’t literature judged by aesthetic standards?

2. Important distinction:

   • Bilgi = information

   • Bilik = knowledge

   • Bilim = scientific knowledge (empirical science)

3. In a conversation at the Lokbatan cemetery, a known critic was asked, “Who writes well here?” Instead of pointing to the deceased, he named only those morally respectable people, especially his own relatives. In other words, he mixed faith with knowledge.

4. The first version of this essay was submitted to a journal in the mid-1990s. The editor rejected it, saying the piece strongly criticized those in power and could cause the journal to be shut down. The editor may have been right, because the essay’s central argument—that emotion is mistaken for thought—was frequently echoed in official discourse and by state media. This method was widely used to silence dissenting opinions. Still, to think that this issue only relates to those in power would be wrong. This way of thinking had, over time, become a part of popular worldview, and later found its reflection in state ideology.
   
   In 2000, the essay was finally published as part of my book titled “Conspiracy Theory.”
   
   

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Sources of the original article in Azerbaijani Turkish:

https://anlamlar.blogfa.com/post/133 

https://anlamlar.blogfa.com/post/137 

https://anlamlar.blogfa.com/post/138

https://anlamlar.blogfa.com/post/139 

https://anlamlar.blogfa.com/post/140