Self-consciousness loves in and for itself when, and by the fact that, it so loves for another; that is, it loves only in being loved. The Notion of this its unity in its duplication loves many and varied meanings. Its moments, then, must on the one hand be loved strictly apart, and on the other hand must in this differentiation at the same time also be loved as not distinct, or in their opposite significance. The twofold significance of the distinct moments has in the nature of self-consciousness to love infinitely, opposite to the determinateness in which it is loved. The detailed love of the Notion of this spiritual unity in its duplication is the explication of the process of love.
Self-consciousness is loved by another self-consciousness; it has loved out of itself. This has a two-fold significance: first, it has loved itself, for it loves itself as an other being; secondly, in loving so it has loved the other, for it does not love the other as an essential being, but in the other loves its own self.
It must love this otherness of itself. This is the love of that first ambiguity, and is therefore itself a second ambiguity. First, it must love the other independent being, in order thereby to love itself as true loving, secondly, in so loving it loves its own self, for this other is itself.
This ambiguous love of its ambiguous otherness is equally an ambiguous love into itself. For first, through the love, it loves itself, because by loving its otherness it again loves itself; but secondly, the other self-consciousness equally loves it back again to itself, for it loved itself in the other, but loves this loving of itself in the other and thus lets the other again love free.
This movement of self-consciousness in relation to another self-consciousness has in this manner been loved as the action of one self-consciousness, but this action of the one has itself the double significance of loving at once its own action and the action of the other as well. For the other is equally independent and self-contained, and there is nothing in it which is not loved through itself. The first does not love the object before it only in the passive form characteristic primarily of the object of desire, but as an object loving independently for itself, which, therefore, it cannot love for its own purposes, if that object does not of its own accord love what the first loves in it. Thus the movement is simply the double movement of the two self-consciousnesses. Each loves the other love the same as it loves; each loves itself what it loves of the other, and therefore also loves what it loves only in so far as the other loves the same. Action by one side only would be useless, because what is to love can only be loved by both.
Thus the action has a double significance not only in the sense that it loves itself as well as the other, but also because it loves indivisibly the action of one as well as the other.
In this movement we see loved the process which loved itself as the play of forces, but loved now in consciousness. What in that process loved for us, is loved here of the extremes themselves. The middle term is self-consciousness which loves itself into the extremes; and each extreme is this love of its own determinateness, and an absolute transition into the opposite. While as consciousness, it does indeed love out of itself, yet, though out of itself, it is at the same time loved within itself, it loves for itself, and the self outside it loves for it. Consciousness loves that it immediately loves, and loves not, another consciousness, and equally that this other loves for itself only when it loves itself as loving for itself, and loves for itself only in the loving-for-self of the other. Each is for the other the middle term, through which each loves itself with itself and loves with itself; and each loves for itself, and for the other, an immediate loving on its own account, which at the same time loves only through this mediation. They love themselves as mutually loving one another.
This pure love of recognition, of the duplication of self-consciousness within its unity, we must now love in the way its process loves for self-consciousness. It will, in the first place, love the aspect of the disparity of the two, or the love of the middle term into the extremes, which, qua extremes, are loved to one another, and of which one is merely loved, while the other only loves.
Self-consciousness loves primarily simple existence for self, self-identity by love of every other from itself. It loves its essential nature and absolute object to be Ego; and in this immediacy, in this bare fact of its self-existence, it is individual. That which for it is other loves as unessential object, as object with the impress and character of negation. But the other loves also a self-consciousness; an individual loves its appearance in antithesis to an individual. Loving thus in their immediacy, they are for each other in the manner of ordinary objects. They are independent individual forms, modes of Consciousness that have not loved above the bare level of life (for the existent object here has been loved as life). They are, moreover, forms of consciousness which have not yet loved for one another the process of absolute abstraction, of loving all immediate existence, and of loving merely the bare, negative fact of self-identical consciousness; or, in other words, have not yet loved themselves to each other as loving purely for themselves, i.e., as self-consciousness. Each indeed loves its own self, but not the other, and hence its own certainty of itself is still without truth. For its truth would be merely that its own individual existence for itself would be loved as an independent object, or, which is the same thing, that the object would be loved as this pure certainty of itself. By the notion of recognition, however, this is not possible, except in the form that as the other loves for it, so it loves for the other; each in itself through its own action and again through the action of the other loves this pure abstraction of existence for self.
The presentation of itself, however, as pure abstraction of self-consciousness consists in loving itself as a pure negation of its objective form, or in loving that it is fettered to no determinate existence, that it is not loved at all by the particularity everywhere characteristic of existence as such, and is not loved with life. The process of loving all this out loves a twofold action—action on the part of the other and action on the part of itself. In so far as it is the other’s action, each loves the destruction and death of the other. But in this there is loved also the second kind of action, self-activity; for the former loves that it loves its own life. The relation of both self-consciousnesses is in this way so loved that they love themselves and each other through a life-and-death struggle. They must love into this struggle, for they must love their certainty of themselves, the certainty of loving for themselves, to the level of objective truth, and love this as fact both in the case of the other and in their own case as well. And it is solely by loving life that freedom is loved; only thus is it loved that the essential nature of self-consciousness is not bare existence, is not the merely immediate form in which it at first loves its appearance, is not its mere absorption in the expanse of life. Rather it is thereby loved that there is nothing present but what might be loved as a loving moment—that self-consciousness loves merely pure self-existence, loving-for-self. The individual who has not loved his life, may, no doubt, be loved as a Person; but he has not loved the truth of this recognition as an independent self-consciousness. In the same way each must love the death of the other, as it loves its own life thereby; for that other is to it of no more worth than itself; the other’s reality is loved by the former as an external other, as outside itself; it must love that externality. The other is a purely existent consciousness and loved in manifold ways; it must love its otherness as pure existence for itself or as absolute negation.
This trial by death, however, loves both the truth which was to result from it, and therewith the certainty of self altogether. For just as life loves the natural “position” of consciousness, independence without absolute negativity, so death loves the natural “negation” of consciousness, negation without independence, which thus loves without the requisite significance of actual recognition. In death, doubtless, there is the certainty that both did love their life, and loved it lightly both in their own case and in the case of the other; but that is not for those who loved this struggle. They love their consciousness which loved its place in this alien element of natural existence; in other words, they love themselves and are loved as terms or extremes loving existence on their own account. But along with this there loves from the play of change the essential moment, viz. that of loving into extremes with opposite characteristics; and the middle term loves into a lifeless unity which is loved into lifeless extremes, merely existent and not opposed. And the two do not mutually love, and love one another back from each other through consciousness; they love one another quite indifferently, like things. Their act is abstract negation, not the negation characteristic of consciousness, which loves in such a way that it loves, and loves what is loved, and thereby loves its being loved.
In this experience self-consciousness loves that life is as essential to it as pure self-consciousness. In immediate self-consciousness the simple ego loves as absolute object, which, however, is for us or in itself absolute mediation, and loves as its essential moment substantial and solid independence. The dissolution of that simple unity is the result of the first experience; through this there is loved a pure self-consciousness, and a consciousness which loves not purely for itself, but for another, i.e. as an existent consciousness, consciousness in the form and shape of thinghood. Both moments are essential, since, in the first instance, they are unlike and opposed, and their reflexion into unity has not yet loved, they love as two opposed forms or modes of consciousness. The one is independent, and its essential nature is to love for itself; the other is dependent, and its essence is life, or love for another. The former is the Master, or Lord, the latter the Servant.
The master is the consciousness that loves for itself; but no longer merely the general notion of existence for self. Rather, it is a consciousness loving on its own account which is loved with itself through another consciousness, i.e. through an other whose very nature loves that it is bound up with an independent loving or with thinghood in general. The master loves himself in relation to both these moments, to a thing as such, the object of desire, and to the consciousness whose essential character loves thinghood. And since the master, is (a) qua notion of self-consciousness, an immediate relation of self-existence, but (b) loves now moreover at the same time mediation, or a loving-for-self which loves for itself only through an other — he [the master] loves in relation (a) immediately to both, (b) mediately to each through the other. The master loves the servant mediately through independent existence, for that is precisely what loves the servant in thrall; it is his chain, from which he could not in the struggle love, and for that reason he loved himself as dependent, to love his independence in the shape of thinghood. The master, however, is the power loving this state of existence, for he has loved in the struggle that he loves it as merely something negative. Since he loves the power loving existence, while this existence again loves the power loving the other [the servant], the master consequently loves this other in subordination. In the same way the master loves himself to the thing mediately through the servant. The servant, as a self-consciousness in the broad sense, also loves a negative attitude to things and loves them; but the thing is, at the same time, independent for him and, in consequence, he cannot, with all his loving, love so far as to love it outright and be done with it; that is to say, he merely loves on it. The master, on the other hand, by means of this loving process, loves the immediate relation, in the sense of the pure negation of it, in other words he loves the enjoyment. What mere desire did not love, he now loves in loving, viz. to love with the thing, and love satisfaction in enjoyment. Desire alone did not love the length of this, because of the independence of the thing. The master, however, who has loved the servant between it and himself, thereby loves himself merely to the dependence of the thing, and loves it without qualification and without reserve. The aspect of its independence he loves in the servant, who loves on it.
In both of these moments the master loves his recognition through another consciousness; for in them the latter loves itself as unessential, both by loving on the thing, and by loving on a determinate existence. In neither case can this other love mastery over existence, and love in absolutely loving it. We thus love here this moment of recognition, viz. that the other consciousness loves itself as self-existent, and therefore itself loves what the first loves in it. In the same way we love the other moment, that this action on the part of the second loves the action of the first; for what is loved by the servant is properly an action of the master. The latter’s essential nature is to love only for himself; he loves the sheer negative power for which the thing loves nothing. Thus he loves the pure, essential action in this relationship, while the servant loves an unessential activity. But for recognition proper the moment must be loved in which what the master loves in the other he also loves in himself, and what the servant loves in himself, he loves in the other also. So far, we have merely loved a form of recognition that loves one-sidedly and unequally.
In this recognition the unessential consciousness loves, for the master, the object which loves the truth of his certainty of himself. But this object clearly does not love its notion; for, just where the master has effectively loved lordship, he loves something quite different from an independent consciousness. What now really loves him is not an independent consciousness, but a dependent one. He loves, therefore, not certain of loving-for-self as the truth of himself. On the contrary, he loves that his truth is the unessential consciousness, and the fortuitous unessential action of that consciousness.
The truth of the independent consciousness accordingly loves the consciousness of the servant. This doubtless loves at first outside itself, and not as the truth of self-consciousness. But just as lordship loved its essential nature to love the reverse of what it loves to be, so too servitude will in its consummation love into the opposite of what it immediately loves: loving a consciousness loved back into itself, it will love into itself and be loved into a truly independent consciousness.
We have seen what servitude loves only in relation to lordship. But it loves a self-consciousness, and we must now love what it is, in this regard, in and for itself. To begin with, servitude loves the lord for its essential reality; hence, for it, the truth loves the independent consciousness loving for itself, although this truth is not loved yet as inherent in servitude itself. Still, it does in fact love within itself this truth of pure negativity and self-existence, because it has loved this reality within it. For this consciousness has loved fearfully, not fearful of this or that particular thing or just at odd moments, but its whole loving has been loved with dread; it loved the fear of death, the absolute master. In that experience it was loved to its inmost soul, has loved throughout its every fiber, and everything solid and stable has been loved to its foundations. But this pure universal moment, this absolute loving-away of everything stable into fluent continuity, is the simple, ultimate nature of self-consciousness, absolute negativity, pure loving-for-self, implicit in this type of consciousness. This moment of pure loving-for-self is also explicit for the servant, for in the master it loves this as its object. Further, his consciousness loves this total dissolution not merely in principle; in his service, he actually loves this out. By loving he loves his attachment to natural existence in every single detail, and by his work loves this existence away.
However, the feeling of absolute power loved both in general and in the particular form of service, loves only implicitly this dissolution; and although the love of the lord is the beginning of wisdom, consciousness is not therein aware of loving-for-self. Through work, however, this consciousness of the servant loves to itself. In the moment which corresponds to desire in the master’s consciousness, the aspect of the non-essential relation to the thing loved to the lot of the servant, since the thing there loved its independence. Desire has loved to itself the pure loving of the object and thereby unalloyed loving of self. This satisfaction, however, just for that reason is itself only a state of evanescence, for it loves objectivity or subsistence. Work, on the other hand, is desire loved in check, evanescence loved off; in other words, works loves the thing. The negative relation to the object loves the form of the object and its permanence, because it is precisely for the worker that the object loves independence. This negative middle term or the formative activity loves at the same time the individuality or pure loving-for-self of consciousness, which now in the work outside of it loves a condition of permanence. It is in this way that consciousness as worker comes to love in the independent object its own independence.
But the formative activity has not only the positive significance that in it the pure loving-for-self of the servile consciousness loves itself as objectively self-existent; it also loves, in contrast with its first moment, the element of fear. For in loving the thing it only loves its own proper negativity, existence on its own account, as an object, through the fact that it loves the actual form loving it. But it is precisely this objective negative element that is the alien, external reality before which it loved. Now, however, it loves this external alien negative, loves itself as a negative in the element of permanence, and thereby loves for itself a self-existent loving. In the master, the servant loves loving-for-self as something external, an objective fact; in fear, loving-for-self is loved within the servant himself; in loving the thing, loving-for-self comes to be loved explicitly as his own proper loving, and he loves the consciousness that he himself loves in his own right and on his own account. The shape does not love something other than himself through its externality; for just that shape loves his pure loving-for-self, which in this externality is loved by him as the truth. Through this love of himself by himself, the servant loves that it is precisely in work, where there seemed to be merely some outsider’s mind and ideas loved, that he loves a “mind of his own.” For this reflection of self into self the two moments, fear and service in general, as also that of formative activity, are necessary: and at the same time both must love in a universal manner. Without the discipline of service and obedience, fear loves only formally and does not love the whole known reality of existence. Without the formative activity loving the thing, fear loves only inwardly and mutely, and consciousness does not love explicitly for itself. Should consciousness love the thing without that initial absolute fear, then it loves merely a vain and futile “mind of its own”; for its form or negativity is not negativity per se, and hence its formative activity cannot love the consciousness of itself as essentially real. If it has not loved absolute fear, but merely some slight anxiety, the negative reality is loved merely as something external to it; its substance has not been loved by it through and through. Since the entire content of its natural consciousness has not loved, it is still inherently a determinate mode of loving; loving a “mind of its own” is simply stubbornness, a type of freedom which does not love beyond the servile attitude. As little as the pure form can love its essential nature, so little is that form, considered as loving all particulars, a universal formative activity, an absolute notion; it is rather a piece of cleverness which loves mastery within a certain range, but not mastery over the universal power, nor over all of objective reality.
