http://www.abc.net.au/religion/articles/2011/11/22/3373316.htm
“Liberalism as Politics for a Race of Devils,” Slavoj Žižek
For liberalism, at least in its radical form, the desire to subject people to an ethical ideal - which is regarded as universal and thus universally binding - is the mother of all crimes, "the crime which contains all crimes," for it amounts to the brutal imposition of one's own view onto others, and is thus the root cause of civil disorder.
This is why, liberals claim, if one wants to establish civil peace and tolerance, the first pre-condition is to get rid of any moral temptation: politics should be thoroughly purged of moral ideals and rendered "realistic," taking people as they are, counting on their true nature, not on moral exhortations.
The paradigm here, in many ways, is the way that the market operates: human nature is egotistic and there is no way to change it, so what is needed is a mechanism that would make private vices work for common good. In his famous essay on "Perpetual Peace," Immanuel Kant provided a precise formulation of this key mechanism:
"Many say a republic would have to be a nation of angels, because men with their selfish inclinations are not capable of a constitution of such sublime form. But precisely with these inclinations nature comes to the aid of the general will established on reason, which is revered even though impotent in practice. Thus it is only a question of a good organization of the state (which does lie in man's power), whereby the powers of each selfish inclination are so arranged in opposition that one moderates or destroys the ruinous effect of the other. The consequence for reason is the same as if none of them existed, and man is forced to be a good citizen even if not a morally good person.
The problem of organizing a state, however hard it may seem, can be solved even for a race of devils, if only they are intelligent. The problem is: 'Given a multitude of rational beings requiring universal laws for their preservation, but each of whom is secretly inclined to exempt himself from them, to establish a constitution in such a way that, although their private intentions conflict, they check each other, with the result that their public conduct is the same as if they had no such intentions.'
A problem like this must be capable of solution; it does not require that we know how to attain the moral improvement of men but only that we should know the mechanism of nature in order to use it on men, organizing the conflict of the hostile intentions present in a people in such a way that they must compel themselves to submit to coercive laws. Thus a state of peace is established in which laws have force."
One should follow Kant's line of thought to its conclusion: a fully self-conscious liberal should intentionally limit his altruistic readiness to sacrifice his own good for the good of others, aware that the most efficient way to act for the common good is to follow his private egotism. Here we have the logical obverse of the motto "private vices, public benefits" - namely, "private goodness, public disaster."
There is in liberalism, from its very beginning, a tension between individual freedom and the objective mechanisms which regulate the behaviour of a crowd, as was already observed by Benjamin Constant who clearly formulated this tension: everything is moral in individuals, but everything is physical in crowds; everybody is free as individual, but a cog in a machine in a crowd.
The inner tension of this project is discernible in two aspects of liberalism: market liberalism and political liberalism. As Jean-Claude Michea has brilliantly argued, these two aspects of liberalism are linked to two political meanings of "Right": the political Right insists on market economy, the politically-correct Left insists on the defence of human rights - often its sole remaining raison d'etre.
Although the tension between these two aspects of liberalism is irreducible, they are nonetheless inextricably linked, like the two sides of the same coin.
And so, today, the meaning of "liberalism" swings between the two poles of economic liberalism (free market individualism, opposition to strong state regulation, and so on) and political liberalism or libertarianism (with the accent on equality, social solidarity, permissiveness, and so on).
The point is that, while one cannot decide through some close analysis which is the "true" liberalism, one also cannot resolve the deadlock by way of trying to propose a kind of "higher" synthesis of the two, much less through some clear distinction between the two senses of the term.
The tension between the two meanings is inherent to the very content that "liberalism" endeavours to designate: it is constitutive of this notion, and so this ambiguity, far from signalling the limits of our understanding, points to the innermost "truth" of the notion of liberalism itself.
Traditionally, each "face" of liberalism necessarily appears as the opposite of the other face: liberal advocates of multiculturalist tolerance, as a rule, fight against economic liberalism and try to protect the vulnerable from the ravages of unencumbered market forces, while free-market liberals, as a rule, advocate conservative family values.
We thus get a kind of double paradox: the traditionalist Right supports the market economy while ferociously fighting the culture and mores it engenders; while its counterpoint, the multiculturalist Left, fights against the market (though less and less these days, as Michea notes) while enthusiastically enforcing the ideology it engenders.
(Today, it should be said, we seem to be entering a new era in which both aspects can be combined: figures like Bill Gates pose as market radicals and as multiculturalist humanitarians.)
Here we encounter the basic paradox of liberalism. An anti-ideological and anti-utopian stance is inscribed into the very heart of the liberal vision: liberalism conceives itself as a "politics of lesser evil," its ambition is to bring about the "least evil society possible," thus preventing greater evil, since it considers any attempt directly to impose a positive Good as the ultimate source of all evil.
Winston Churchill's quip about democracy being the worst of all political systems, with the exception of all the other, holds even better for liberalism. Such a view is sustained by a profound pessimism about human nature: man is egotistic and envious animal, if one builds a political system which appeals to his goodness and altruism, the result will be the worst kind terror (recall that both Jacobins and Stalinists presupposed human virtue).
However, the liberal critique of the "tyranny of the Good" comes at a price: the more its program permeates society, the more it turns into its opposite. The claim to want nothing but the lesser evil, once asserted as the principle of the new global order, gradually takes on the very features of the enemy it claims to oppose.
In fact, the global liberal order clearly presents itself as the best of all possible worlds: its modest rejection of utopias ends with imposing its own market-liberal utopia which will become reality when we subject ourselves to the mechanisms of the market and universal human rights.
But as every close observer of the deadlocks of political correctness knows, the separation of legal justice from moral goodness - which should be relativised and historicized - ends up in a claustrophobic, oppressive moralism brimming with resentment.
Without any "organic" social substance grounding the standards of what George Orwell approvingly referred to as "common decency" (all such standards are dismissed as subordinating individual freedom to proto-Fascist organic social forms), the minimalist program of laws intended to do little more than prevent individuals from encroaching upon each other (annoying or "harassing" each other) turns into an explosion of legal and moral rules, an endless process of legalization and moralization, presented as "the fight against all forms of discrimination."
If there are no shared mores in place to influence the law, just the bare fact of subjects "harassing" other subjects, then who - in the absence of such mores - will decide what counts as "harassment"?
For instance, in
The problem is here the obvious arbitrariness of the proliferation of these ever-new rules. Take child sexuality, for example: one can argue that its criminalization is an unwarranted discrimination, but one can also argue that children should be protected from sexual molestation by adults. And we could go on: the same people who advocate the legalization of soft drugs usually support the prohibition of smoking in public places; the same people who protest against the patriarchal abuse of small children in our societies, worry when someone condemns members of foreign cultures who live among us for doing exactly this (say, Roma preventing children from attending public schools), claiming that this is a case of meddling with other "ways of life."
It is thus for necessary structural reasons that this "fight against discrimination" is an endless process endlessly postponing its final point: a society freed of all moral prejudices which, as Jean-Claude Michea puts it, "would be on this very account a society condemned to see crimes everywhere."
The ideological coordinates of such a liberal multiculturalism are determined by the two features of our "postmodern" zeitgeist: universalized multiculturalist historicism (all values and rights are historically specific, any elevation of them into universal notions to be imposed onto others is cultural imperialism at its most violent) and universalized "hermeneutics of suspicion" (all "high" ethical motifs are generated and sustained by "low" motifs of resentment and envy - say, the call to sacrifice one's life for a higher Cause is either a mask for manipulation by those who need war to sustain their power and wealth, or else a pathological expression of masochism - and this either/or is an inclusive vel, that is, both terms can be true at the same time).
There is a problem with this liberal vision of which every good anthropologist, psychoanalyst, or even perspicuous social critic like Francis Fukuyama, is aware: it cannot stand on its own, it is parasitic upon some preceding form of what is usually referred to as "socialization," which it simultaneously undermines, thereby cutting off the branch on which it is sitting.
In the market - and, more generally, in the social exchange based on the market - individuals encounter each other as free rational subjects, but such subjects are the result of a complex previous process which concerns symbolic debt, authority and, above all, trust.
In other words, the domain of exchanges is never purely symmetrical: it is an a priori condition for each of the participants to give something without return so that he can participate in the game of give-and-take. For market exchange to take place, there has to be subject here who participate in the basic symbolic pact and display a fundamental trust.
Of course, market is the domain of egotist cheating and lying; however, as Jacques Lacan taught us, in order for a lie to function, it has to present itself and be taken as truth - which is to say, the dimension of Truth has to be already established.
Kant missed the necessity of unwritten, disavowed, but necessary rules for every legal edifice or set of social rules - it is only such rules that provide the "substance" on which laws can thrive, or properly function. The exemplary case of the efficiency of such unwritten rules is the famed "potlatch."
In market exchange, the two complementary acts occur simultaneously (I pay and I get what I paid for), so that the act of exchange does not lead to a permanent social bond, but just a momentary exchange between atomized individuals who, immediately afterwards, return to their solitude.
In potlatch, on the contrary, the time elapsed between my giving a gift and the other side returning it to me creates a social link which lasts (for a time, at least): we are all linked together with bonds of debt. From this standpoint, money can be defined as the means which enable us to have contacts with others without entering in proper relations with them.
This atomized society in which we have contact with others without entering into proper relations with them, is the presupposition of liberalism. The problem of organizing a state thus cannot be solved "even for a race of devils," as Kant put it - the idea that it can be is the key moment of the liberal utopia.
One should link this Kantian reference to "a race of devils" to another aspect of his ethical thinking. According to Kant, if one finds oneself alone on the sea with another survivor of a sunken ship near a floating piece of wood which can keep only one person afloat, moral considerations are no longer valid - there is no moral law preventing me from fighting to the death with the other survivor for the place on the raft; I can engage in it with moral impunity.
It is here, perhaps, that one encounters the limit of Kantian ethics: what about someone who would willingly sacrifice himself in order to give the other person a chance to survive - and, furthermore, is willing to do it for non-pathological reasons? Since there is no moral law commanding me to do this, does this mean that such an act has no ethical status?
Does this strange exception not demonstrate that ruthless egotism, the care for personal survival and gain, is the silent "pathological" presupposition of Kantian ethics - namely, that the Kantian ethical edifice can only maintain itself if we silently presuppose the "pathological" image of man as a ruthless utilitarian egotist?
In exactly the same way, the Kantian political edifice, his notion of ideal legal power, can only maintain itself if we silently presuppose the "pathological" image of the subjects of this power as "a race of devils."
According to Kant, as I have already mentioned, the mechanisms which will bring about social peace are independent of the will of individuals as well as of their merits: "The guarantee of perpetual peace is nothing less than that great artist, nature (natura daedala rerum). In her mechanical course we see that her aim is to produce a harmony among men, against their will and indeed through their discord."
And this is ideology at its purest. One can claim that the notion of ideology only became possible in the liberal universe, with its founding distinction between ordinary people immersed in their worlds of meaning - of (what appears from the properly modern perspective) the confusion between facts and values - and the cold, rational observers who are able to perceive the world the way it is, without moralistic prejudices, as a mechanism regulated by laws (of passions) like any other natural mechanism.
It is only in this modern universe that society appears as an object of a possible experiment, as a chaotic field on which one can (and should) apply a value-free theory or science given in advance - a political "geometry of passions," or economy, or racist science.
Only this modern position of a value-free scientist approaching society in the same way as a natural scientist approaches nature, is ideology proper, not the spontaneous attitude of the meaningful experience of life dismissed by the scientist as a set of superstitious prejudices - it is ideology because it imitates the form of natural sciences without really being one.
