Since time immemorial, the most varied divinatory practices have flourished in India. Their prognostications were supplied by the interpretation of quite diverse omina and portenta: Thus “meteors” (lightning, rain or comets) earthquakes, the flight and cries of crows and other birds, the degree of clarity of a subject's image reflected in melted butter (gharta), lines and marks on a body, the direction taken by smoke rising from the altar once the rite had condensed a certain magic power from it (prabhāva), dreams, all were thought to furnish the diviner with presages. As the abundant lists of the Garga samhitā and the Brhat Sarnmitā testify, for a conscience attentive to the intersigns there is no reality, even the most insignificant, that does not lend itself directly or by contiguity to systematic interpretation.

What is truth? This famous question does not express merely the anguish—or the detachment—of the person who, at the moment of choosing, hesitates between deciding for one or the other of the contradictory theses being presented. At a second level, the question no longer concerns merely the content but the very conditions for the decision: in what name, by virtue of what criterion do we say that a given assertion is true while its contrary is false? We could limit ourselves to recognizing in this second phase a particular species of philosophical questioning, which proceeds reflexively from the constituted to the constituent, from the given of the experience to the conditions for the possibility of the experience in general. But in the question about truth, a prejudicial difficulty inevitably arises which is proper to this question and makes it incomparable to any other. How can I be assured of the truth of my assertions about truth without presupposing at the same time a theory for that truth which I am in tact in the process of seeking? In other words, any question about truth moves in a circle since, by demanding a true answer, just like every question it implies that the questioner already knows what is truth at the very moment when he is asking what it is.

For several decades, molecular genetics have given rise to a new order of phenomena, profoundly disturbing the classic ideas that men have of their identity and their place in the universe. What becomes of the classic figure of man when hybridizations permit the systematic crossing of the frontiers between species? What do the possibilities opened by cloning and especially the grafting of foreign genes in mammals mean to us? What happens to the classic structures of relationship when the introduction of foreign genes into the cells of embryos allows us to obtain individuals that are heirs of the genetic patrimony of eight or twelve different parents? The list of all these strange phenomena would be long, and the disquieting nature of the results thus obtained gives spectacular effects that, for the scientific mind, are not satisfactory. It is thus in a different perspective that we must reflect on the rapid irruption of this new order of phenomenality brought about through the genetic approach.

The purpose of this paper is to present a commentary on the current state of contemporary African philosophy and to offer some criticisms and recommendations. The question concerning African philosophy has been debated for some years now and one has witnessed a number of interesting works on this topic.

Traditionally genetics is said to be the science of heredity. At least this was how William Bateson defined it in 1906. Today this is no longer the case. Since about ten years ago. when biologists learned to extract genes from cells, to transfer them from cell to cell, to dissect them, to analyze them biochemically, in short to manipulate them, the term genetics has tended rather to designate the science of the action of genes in cells. (This is what was formerly called physiological genetics). In any case this is the form of genetics which today is in the forefront of biological research. (This is also called molecular genetics). This kind of genetics is also in the forefront in the media, because of its present or potential applications, in the realms of biotechnology, genetic therapy and so on.

What should we understand by African philosophical thought if not a philosophy expressed by African thinkers, based on their own experience with the means and within the limits of that experience? A closer inspection will show, however, that this truism calls for rethinking. If we abide by the writings of our contemporary philosophers, African and non-African, who have endeavored to put the essence of African thought into one of the Occidental languages or a Westernized indigenous language, we soon see the perplexity in which we find ourselves when it is a matter of transcribing the systems of thought that are properly African, that resemble no other system of thought and that Africans alone are able to expound and understand. This was for a long time the questionable affirmation of the advocates of Negritude and is still questionable today, because we cannot judge the value of the written formulation of such a system of thought unless we put ourselves into the circumstances in which it was born and in which it lived. Though the existence of a dialectic relationship between a collective consciousness and its formulation as a philosophical system is conceivable, obviously the philosophical thought captured, so to speak, at the source and the oral or written forms in which this thought is preserved and transmitted are two totally different things. To opt for one or the other or for both can involve tasks which many hands share in varying degrees. It is not necessary that a philosopher formulate and express his philosophy in writing or that someone else gather his statements and give them form for his philosophy to be valid and durable. Moreover, although he transmits it orally he never does so with the same words, even if they are always recognizable anmemorable among all others. Platonic, Hegelian and Scholastic philosophies remain themselves whether we write about them or read the works of their founders. Consider Pyrrho, Socrates, Jesus: oral tradition has sufficed to bring their message down through the centuries to us even though they wrote nothing. Why should it not be the same for the oral philosophical traditions of Africa?

The historical literature of the past two centuries testifies to disputes about what historical knowledge is and the relationship of the historian to it. The disputes have been fierce enough for each side to declare that any position other than its own is untenable. It would be futile to try to convince those who so staunchly defend their own ground that the other side might have a legitimate contribution to make. Yet, it might be worthwhile to classify the positions so as to focus the arguments on legitimate issues, and, in some measure, to begin to resolve them.

It seems at least daring to speak of truth on the subject of art, when Plato, in the Sophiste, 234c, likens art to sophistry, in other words, to falsity and deformation. To be sure, this comparison is based on an exaggeration, because elsewhere Plato insists on the necessity of artistic reality: in the same Sophiste, 299e, he states that “life would be unlivable without art.” The importance thus given to art becomes obvious when we think that this same expression is already used in the Apologie, 38a, with regard to philosophy, the activity that for a man conscious of his own existence is one of scrupulously examining his own life. This similarity in expression testifies to the conceptual and axiological similarity of two (but distinct) activities of the mind effected by Plato who, on a different level, as we have just seen, unhesitatingly condemns one of them, at least apparently; apparently, because basically Plato does not inveigh against art in general but against the art of his contemporaries, whom he openly accuses of accepting the postulate of verisimilitude by using artifice and acrobatics, with the sole end of pleasing the crowds by flattery. In other words, they substitute for the scarch for authenticity that of dexterity in creations conceived only for that effect, which means identifying this type of substitution of values with a prostitution of the artist himself with regard to his public.

To pose the question of myth and truth is to pose three complementary questions: that of myth, that of truth and that of their relationship. It is also to pose a still more fundamental question: that of knowing if the question of myth and truth is not badly put. a pseudo-problem. In other words, is there not a “myth” of the “myth” and, perhaps, of truth? More precisely, is there a philosophical problem of the myth that is not at the same time a problem of language, of its usage and its claim to truth? The myth-philosophy-science hierarchization is not perhaps itself a “supermyth”? Is not myth always a certain philosophy? And science, is it not always an undertaking of testing concepts suffused in a non-scientific context, i.e., philosophical, religious or mythical?