Divine Violence and Liberated Territories:
SOFT TARGETS talks with Slavoj ŽIŽEK
SOFT TARGETS talks with Slavoj ŽIŽEK
Los Angeles, March 14, 2007
ST: Let’s start with the question of violence. What, today,
is the relation between violence and politics?
ŽIŽEK: This question
is particularly confused on the Left. Let’s take the use made of two authors,
Carl Schmitt and Walter Benjamin, for example. I don’t have any problem with
Schmitt. But Schmitt’s concepts of "decision" and
"exception" function precisely to erase the crucial distinction
governing Benjamin’s "Critique of Violence," namely the distinction
between "mythical" and "divine" violence. For Schmitt, to
put it quite simply, there is no divine violence. For him there is an illegal
violence that is a foundation, a violence of the exception that gives rise to
the law. Many Leftists who flirt with Benjamin want to speak of some
"spectral" violence that never really happens, or they adopt an
attitude like Agamben’s and simply wait for some magical intervention. I’m
sorry, but Benjamin is pretty precise. An example he gives of divine violence
is a mob lynching a corrupt ruler! That’s pretty concrete. In a new book I’m
writing on violence, I’m going to address this issue. Franz Fanon has suffered
a similar fate. He was very clear about the role of violence, and he certainly
wasn’t speaking of some "transcendental" violence. He meant killing,
he meant terror. But this dimension of their work is not present in
contemporary commentators. We have a softened, "decaffeinated" Fanon
and Benjamin.
ST: It is not for nothing that Sorel is the fundamental
reference for Benjamin! This is completely effaced in Agamben’s discussion of
the text. When discussing divine violence in recent texts, you tend to refer to
events like the uprisings of the Brazilian favelas and the slums of Caracas
rather than the antiglobalization movement and its theorists. The example you
yourself provide for "divine" violence, in a recent text on
Robespierre, are the "food riots" in the favelas of Rio de Janeiro in
the 1990s . . . Do these upheavals bear witness to the emergence of a new
"subject" of struggles to come? In making this identification,
doesn’t one risk the "populist" temptation you elsewhere denounce?
ŽIŽEK: I was in
Brazil during the food riots. People from the favelas simply descended into the
city and began to loot, to terrorize the middle classes a little bit. I was
shocked at how these events were treated. At first, people were horrified, as
if it came from nowhere, a divine catastrophe. But once the police took care of
the situation, the burnt stores and so on were treated like one more tourist
attraction! But violence is a complex phenomenon, and several things have to be
taken into account. First of all, we have to emphasize that violence is always
a structural problem, an "objective" feature of contemporary
capitalist societies. Today, we are fascinated by what I, following Badiou,
call "subjective" violence, with an easily identifiable agent.
Balibar has developed the idea, itself found in the Marxist tradition more
generally, of a basic, structural violence in the functioning of capitalism
itself. It is absolutely necessary to read explosions of subjective violence
against this structural or objective violence. We shouldn’t focus exclusively
on the subjective dimension. And we should also remember that violence is not
necessarily activity, action. It is not always the case that social functions
run by themselves and that it takes a lot of energy, a lot of violence to
transform them. To the contrary, it often takes a lot of violence to make sure
things stay the way they are. Sometimes, then, the truly violent act is doing
nothing, a refusal to act.
ST: The general strike?
ŽIŽEK: Yes, you can
say that. But the problem is how to actualize it today. In any case, there are
moments when the radical gesture is to do nothing. The question is, as always,
that of temporality, of timing. But, look: the real problem is that it is very
difficult to be truly violent. The violence of real transformation. The task of
the revolutionary is indeed to be violent, but also to avoid the type of
violence that is, in fact, merely an impotent passage à l’acte. Often, the most
brutal explosions of violence are admissions of impotence—even of a fear before
the real act. Stalin, in a way, was much more violent than Hitler, for example.
I’m speaking of the collectivization—this was madness. This was the true
revolution. I don’t necessarily support it, but it’s true. I don’t buy the old
Trotskyist equation, Lenin=revolution, Stalin=Thermidor. Maybe in 1933 or 1934.
In 1928 or 1929, we saw the most radical change imaginable. Think about it: the
peasantry made up 80 percent of the Russian population at the time. He truly
wanted to break the peasants. It failed. But that was true violence. If by
violence you mean, then, changing the basic social infrastructure, the
fundamental relations of society, it’s very difficult. All the explosions of
20th century violence, whatever their differences, represent failures on this
level. As for Sorel and the general strike, I am sympathetic on some level, but
the major problem is that it is a little too close to what might be called an
"aestheticist" explosion of freedom. For me, the true problem of
revolution is not taking power; it’s what you do the day after. How you
rearticulate everyday life. Here Stalin failed. By 1933 or 1934, no one talked
about the creation of a "New Man" and so on.
ST: How do you understand, within this framework, the
violence of the French banlieues? You mentioned, for example, the favelas and
the food riots...
ŽIŽEK: It obviously
has nothing to do with what people like Alain Finkelkraut propose, that it’s an
Islamist attack on the French republic and so on. The first thing they burned
was the mosques. That’s why the fundamentalists were the first to raise their
voices against the revolts. The young people of the banlieue simply wanted to
say (to adopt a slogan from Badiou): we are here, and we are from here. It was
a question of asserting their sheer existence. It was a pure demand for
visibility. This is the best example of the limitations of our much-vaunted
democracy. There are enormous numbers of people who find themselves in a
situation where their most essential demands cannot be formulated in the
language of a political problem. It’s what Roman Jakobson called
"phatic" communication—not, "I want this" but simply,
"here I am."
ST: You often insist, in a very polemical way, on the need
to maintain the Marxist categories of class analysis. But when we speak of the
favelas, the banlieues, the slums, aren’t we speaking of new social and
political forces that indicate the limits of Marx’s categories? Given the
fragmentation and complexity of the political at the global level, is it still
possible to use the categories of "class" and class struggle to
describe the current situation and its antagonisms? Couldn’t we argue that the
use of the categories today represents a certain refusal to address the
specificity of the "concrete situation"?
ŽIŽEK: I see your
point. The way I try to squeeze out of this problem is to redefine the concept
of the proletariat in a way similar to Badiou and Rancière: those who stand for
a universal singularity, those who belong to a situation without having a
specific "place" in the situation, included but without any part in
the social edifice. As such, this excluded non-part stands for the universal.
The concept of the proletariat becomes a shifting category. But how can this be
linked to the problems of political economy? This is a huge problem. I don’t
have a real solution. Are we supposed to abandon the labor theory of value, or
redeem it? People as different as Badiou and Fredric Jameson claim we already
know how capitalism works, and that the real issue is the invention of new
political forms. I don’t think we really know how capitalism functions today.
The entire Marxist conceptual structure is based on the notion of exploitation.
How does this concept function today? I don’t have an answer. All the terms
used to describe the contemporary moment—"post-industrial society,"
"information society," "risk society" and so on—are
completely journalistic categories.
ST: But doesn’t your redefinition of "proletariat"
distance it too quickly from the question of production? Don’t we have to begin
by examining the redefinition of productive labor itself, to analyze the
increasingly unstable categories of productive and unproductive labor, employed
and unemployed and so on? Doesn’t a term like "multitude," for
example, at least indicate this instability?
ŽIŽEK: This is where
things become perplexing for me. The problems you mention are important. But
there is, of course, an economy specific to the slums and the banlieue, an
illegal market that is nevertheless extremely "dynamic," without any
regulations and so on...
ST: Pure neoliberalism?
ŽIŽEK: Yes. And so we
shouldn’t forget, then, that even if the favelas are outside direct state
control, they are still integrated into the mechanisms of the economy. More
interesting than the question of productivity and unproductivity is the
question of how certain economic forces both do not exist and yet are fully
integrated into the networks of capital. Just look at the economy of the newly
"liberated" Afghanistan—it’s finally integrated into the world
market, though of course the most important product is opium. But let us return
to the question of the multitude. It’s a very ambiguous category. Contemporary
capitalism seems to have the same "predicates" as what Negri calls
the "multitude." In Brazil, Negri recently claimed that we no longer
even have to struggle against capitalism, that it’s almost already communism.
This is also a question of the State. I’m becoming skeptical of the Leftist
anti-State logic. It will not go unnoticed that this discourse finds an echo on
the Right as well. Moreover, I don’t see any signs of the so-called
"disappearance of the State." To the contrary. And to take the United
States as an example, I have to confess that 80 percent of the time, when there
is a conflict between civil society and the State, I am on the side of the
State. Most of the time, the State must intervene when some local right-wing
groups want to ban the teaching of evolution in schools, and so on. I think
it’s very important, then, for the Left to influence and use, and perhaps even
seize, when possible, State apparatuses. This is not sufficient unto itself, of
course. In fact, I think we need to oppose the language of "ligne de
fuite" and self-organization and so on with something that is completely
taboo on the Left today—like garlic for the vampire—namely, the idea of large
State or even larger collective decisions. It’s the same with the notion of
"deterritorialization": I’ve even begun to think that we should
rehabilitate the notion of "territory." Peter Hallward gave me this
idea. Almost all the conflicts of our time, especially in the Middle East, are
structured by the question of territory. I think the Left should begin to think
in terms of what could be called "liberated territories."
ST: But when Negri and Hardt use the term
"deterritorialization," don’t they mean something very specific,
namely that the difference between productive and unproductive labor has become
increasingly unclear, and therefore that the site of exploitation is no longer
localized, but disseminated across the social surface—the entire space of
society is politicized, and no longer simply the factory?
ŽIŽEK: Let’s start
with Negri and Hardt. Somewhere in the middle of Multitude, there is an
intermezzo on Bakhtin and carnival. I violently disagree with this
carnivalesque vision of liberation. Carnival is a very ambiguous term, more
often than not used by reactionaries. My God, if you need a carnival, today’s
capitalism is a carnival. A KKK lynching is a carnival. A cultural critic, a
friend of mine, Boris Groys, told me that he did some research on Bakhtin and
that it became clear that when Bakhtin was producing his theory of carnival in
the 1930s, it was the Stalinist purges that were his model: today you are on
the Central Committee, tomorrow . . . With the dynamics of contemporary capitalism,
the opposition between rigid State control and carnivalesque liberation is no
longer functional. Here I agree with what Badiou said in the recent interview
with you published in Il Manifesto: "those who have nothing have only
their discipline." This is why I like to mockingly designate myself
"Left-fascist" or whatever! Today, the language of transgression is
the ruling ideology. We have to reappropriate the language of discipline, of
mass discipline, even the "spirit of sacrifice," and so on. We have
to do away with the liberal fear of "discipline," which they
characterize—without knowing what they’re talking about—as
"proto-fascist." But back to Negri. You know, the Left produces a new
model every ten years or so. Why was Ernesto Laclau’s Hegemony and Socialist
Strategy so popular twenty years ago? It suited a moment when the priority of
class struggle gave way to the linking of particular struggles (feminist, etc.)
in a chain of struggles. Now, Laclau is trying to dust off the theory to fit
the new Latin American populism of Chavez, Morales and so on. Negri, I’m
afraid, did capture a certain moment, that of Porto Alegre and the
antiglobalization movement—that was, de facto, his "base." But what
is problematic for me is his theory that if today the very object of production
is the production of social relations themselves, then the way is open to what
he calls "absolute democracy." I totally reject this logic. It is
pure, ideological dreaming. In the final twenty pages of Multitude, the position
is more or less theological—the tropes of "ligne de fuite" and
resistance and so on are all founded on the fantasy of a "collapse"
of Empire. In a way, it is the "optimistic" mirror image of the model
you find in someone like Agamben, who presents not so much a pessimism but a
"negative" teleology, in which the entire Western tradition is
approaching its own disastrous end, the only solution to which is to await some
"divine violence." But what is Benjamin talking about?
Revolution—that is, a moment when you take the "sovereign" (this is
Benjamin’s word) responsibility for killing someone. What does violence mean
for Agamben? He responds with "playing with the law" and so on.
Forgive me for being a vulgar empiricist, but I don’t know what that means in
the concrete sense.
ST: You mentioned "liberated territories"—isn’t
the first example that comes to mind the southern zone of Lebanon and the
southern suburbs of Beirut? Isn’t it possible to conceive of a phenomenon like
Hezbollah not simply as a theologico-political form of communitarian
organization but as a phenomenon of resistance irreducible to its theological
support? Isn’t this the theoretical task for us, rather than characterizing
this phenomenon, as is common on both the Left and the Right, as simply "obscurantist"?
ŽIŽEK: This is really
a matter of concrete judgment. I’ll ask you, quite naively: where do you see
this dimension? I would like to be convinced. It’s quite fashionable to speak
of self-organization, to say of Hamas or Hezbollah that "it’s not only
rockets, there’s the social services, etc." But, look, every fascist
regime does such things. It’s not enough. I think the Iranian revolution, for
example, was a true event. There it’s clear. Of course, what you see today in
Iran is a conservative populist regime buying off the poor with oil money. I
have nothing against Islam as such, and in the Iranian revolution it is quite
clear that it played a crucial role, but it was an Islam effectively linked to
a Leftist position of social upheaval. It’s quite clear that, in the history of
this revolution, it took around two years for the conservatives to take
control. Again, I don’t have a problem with Islam as such. I think it is
potentially a great emancipatory religion. It originally defined itself as a
non-patriarchal religion, for example. I have written on this. Badiou spoke in
the recent interview in Il Manifesto of a new form of organization outside the
logic of the State and the Party—but what if you see this as a negative
phenomenon, as a radical closure of social space? What kind of social space is
being proposed? It’s important not to drift too far away from Marx here and his
definition of the proletariat as a "substanceless subjectivity." This
is essential. So if this form of organization belongs neither to the State or
the Party, isn’t this because it represents a totalization of social space,
something pre-modern . . .
ST: . . .an anti-modern reaction to the State?
ŽIŽEK: Yes, yes. I
don’t care about the social services and so on. The question is: when it is a
question of workers, of women, and so on, where do you see any promise of
emancipation? It’s not a rhetorical question. I want to see it, and I don’t.
The big question for me—and here I am an unashamed Eurocentrist—is the
political solution in Palestine, namely the necessity of a single, secular
state. Is the goal of Hezbollah or Hamas a single, secular state, or not? I
totally support the Palestinian cause, and even Palestinian "terror,"
provided it is publicly oriented toward a single, secular state. The option
proposed by Hamas and Hezbollah is not a single secular state, but the
destruction of Israel, driving the Jews "into the sea." I don’t buy
the anti-imperialist solidarity with these forces.
ST: A final question. "That which produces the general
good is always terrible": to what extent do you identify with this formula
of Saint-Just’s? In what sense is the reinvention of a "new form of
Terror," to put it in your terms, a necessary condition for a contemporary
emancipatory politics?
ŽIŽEK: I think the
French Revolution, this violent explosion of egalitarian terror, is crucial.
Before, terror simply meant the "mob" erupting in violence, but they
don’t take over—they simply kill. I am speaking of the Jacobin Terror. This is
the key event. You either buy it or you don’t.
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