Correspondence

I am writing this letter in response to Andrew Samuels's article on ‘National psychology, National Socialism, and analytical psychology’, published in The Journal of Analytical Psychology in January 1992, and to Polly Young-Eisendrath's letter published in its support in October 1992.

I assume there is no need to defend Jung's work; the fact that both the above call themselves Jungian must be proof enough of its value. No, it is Jung the man who is in the dock, and he is dealt with in these papers as if the man and his work were separate entities. As Christopher Brooker once commented in a similiar context, it is like talking about Mozart without mentioning his music!

Unlike Samuels or Young-Eisendrath, who write that they came to Jungian psychology almost by default,* I came to the work because of the impact Jung the man made on me, when I read his autobiography, Memories, Dreams, Reflections. It was an experience akin to being confronted by a great work of art, and truly knowing I shared something of the spirit of its maker.

Brought up in an orthodox Jewish family, I went through all the hoops of a secular education in a Christian environment, and ended up, as a monk on Mount Athos once described me, as being, ‘truly faithless’. On going into analysis at 35 I soon realized he had been talking about a profound meaninglessness which I was finding increasingly unendurable.

Later, on starting my training in Zurich, I soon broached the subject of Jung's anti-Semitism with my analyst. It proved to be a crucial line of inquiry in my personal analysis. What emerged was the shocking reality of the depths of my anti-Christian shadow, based on centuries of fear and homelessness. It became clear to me how my whole reaction to the world was blighted by it. I could truly say that what I hated and feared most in the world was religious prejudice, and Christians!

It also became clear that Jung, given his particular background, had an equally strong inherited and con