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+Part 1 is Framing |
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+Welcome to the world of the aff where we no longer are confined to the state and let it do its own thing. This is the time for the anarchy of becoming – a ideological separation of state and person. |
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+The specter haunting politics is power – we must transcend the current power structures of the state through the anarchy of the self. |
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+Newman ‘10: (Saul Newman, Professor of Political Theory at the University of London at Goldsmiths, 2010, “The Politics of Postanarchism,” pub. Edinburgh University Press, pp. 104-107); AB |
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+We observe a similar silence about anarchism in more recent radical political thought, that which comes in the wake of poststructuralism. Indeed, in much contemporary continental theory we fi nd a series of themes, preoccupations and debates which bear a strong resemblance to those of anarchism. Amid the ruins of Marxism – or at least of a certain institutionalised and statist form of it – there is a desire among many thinkers today to develop new categories and directions for radical politics. There is the attempt, fi st, to find new forms of radical political subjectivity no longer based on the Marxist notion of the proletariat. There is a recognition that such a category is too narrow to express the different forms of oppression, modes of politicisation and ways of relating to one’s own work and existence that make up the contemporary world. However, there is also the recognition of the inadequacy of the ultimately liberal notion of ‘identity politics’ that characterised much new social movement theory. What is called for is new way of thinking about how, and by what processes, a subject becomes politicised – how does the subject become an egalitarian and collective subject? Secondly, there is, among many thinkers today, a rejection of authoritarian modes of political organisation – for instance, the centrally organised Marxist–Leninist vanguard party which would lead the proletariat to revolution, or the Communist and socialist parties in capitalist countries which sought to play the parliamentary game, thus abandoning any hope of emancipation from the state. There is a need, then, as Badiou would put it, for a politics without a party3 – new forms of political organisation that are no longer structured around the model of the party, as the party always has as its aim the reproduction of state power. Related to this, therefore, is the question of the state itself: the immovability of state power, despite the revolutionary programmes which promised its ‘withering away’, and, moreover, the increasingly authoritarian character of the so- called liberal democratic state, show us that the state remains perhaps the central problem in radical politics. Radical thought, therefore, sees politics increasingly as being situated beyond the state – there is a desire to find a space for politics outside the framework of state power, a space from which the hegemony of the state would be challenged. It seems to me that these themes and questions – political subjectivity beyond class, political organisation beyond the party and political action beyond the state – relate directly to anarchism. If these are the new directions that radical politics is moving in, then this would seem to suggest an increasingly anarchistic orientation. Indeed, this is a tendency that is being borne out in many radical movements and forms of resistance today. The emergence of the global anti- capitalist movement in recent times suggests a new form of politics, one that is much closer to anarchism in its aspirations and tactics, and in its decentralised, democratic modes of organisation. Also, the insurrections in Greece in December 2008 – which had an explicitly anarchist identification – are indicative of this libertarian moment in radical politics. It would seem that the prevailing form taken by radical politics today is anti- statist, anti- authoritarian and decentralised, and emphasises direct action rather than representative party politics and lobbying. Furthermore, is it not evident that there is a massive disengagement of ordinary people from normal political processes, an overwhelming scepticism – especially in the wake of the current economic crisis – about the political elites who supposedly govern in their interests? Is there not, at the same time, an obvious consternation on the part of these elites at this growing distance, signifying a crisis in their symbolic legitimacy? As a defensive or pre- emptive measure,4 the state becomes more draconian and predatory, increasingly obsessed with surveillance and control, defining itself through war and security, seeking to authorise itself through a politics of fear and exception. How should radical political thought respond to this situation, lagging behind – as it so often does – reality ‘on the ground’? My contention is that anarchism – or more precisely postanarchism – can provide some answers here. Indeed, anarchism might be seen as the hidden referent for radical political thought today: while its importance is scarcely acknowledged amongst the thinkers referred to above, anarchism can nevertheless offer critical resources for radical political theory, allowing it to transcend many of its current limitations and, indeed, providing it with a more consistent ethical and political framework. |
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+The state’s dialectic of prohibition and legalization sustains the biopolitical state of exception. This creates a zone of indistinction, where certain people become invisible to society and oppressed. Bracketed for Gendered Language. |
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+Edkins 2k: Jenny Edkins writes in “Sovereign Power, Zones of Indistinction, and the Camp” Jan – Mar. 2000, pp. 3-25, Sage Publications Inc. Alternatives: Global, Local, Political, Vol. 25, No. 1, Zones of Indistinction: Territories, Bodies, Politics. BRACKETED FOR GENDERED LANGUAGE http://www.jstor.org/stable/40644981; AB |
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+More than this inclusion by exclusion, sovereign power in the West is constituted by its ability to suspend itself in a state of exception, or ban: "The originary relation of law to life is not application but abandonment."15 The paradox of sovereignty is that the sovereign is at the same time inside and outside the sovereign order: the sovereign can suspend the law. What defines the rule of law is the state of exception when law is suspended. The very space in which juridical order can have validity is created and defined through the sovereign exception. However, the exception that defines the structure of sovereignty is more complex than the inclusion of what is outside by means of an interdiction.16 It is not just a question of creating a distinction between inside and outside: it is the tracing of a threshold between the two, a location where inside and outside enter into a zone of indistinction. It is this state of exception, or the zone of indistinction between inside and outside, that makes the modern juridical order of the West possible. The camp is exemplary as a location of a zone of indistinction. Although in general the camp is set up precisely as part of a state of emergency or martial law, under Nazi rule this becomes not so much a state of exception in the sense of an external and provisional state of danger as a means of establishing the Nazi state it- self. The camp is "the space opened up when the state of exception begins to become the rule."17 In the camp, the distinction between the rule of law and chaos disappears: decisions about life and death are entirely arbitrary, and everything is possible. A zone of indistinction appears between outside and inside, exception and rule, licit and illicit. What happened in the twentieth century in the West, and paradigmatically since the advent of the camp, was that the space of the state of exception transgressed its boundaries and started to coincide with the normal order. The zone of indistinction expanded from a space of exclusion within the normal order to take over that order entirely. In the concentration camp, inhabitants are stripped of every political status, and the arbitrary power of the camp attendants confronts nothing but what Agamben calls bare life, or homo sacer, a creature who can be killed but not sacrificed.18 This figure, an essential figure in modern politics, is constituted by and constitutive of sovereign power. Homo sacer is produced by the sovereign ban and is subject to two exceptions: he is excluded exclusion from human law (killing him these people does not count as homicide) and he is excluded exclusion from divine law (killing him is not a ritual killing and does not count as sacrilege). He is set outside human jurisdiction without being brought into the realm of divine law. This double exclusion of course also counts as a double inclusion: "homo sacer belongs to God in the form of unsacrificability and is included in the com- munity in the form of being able to be killed."19 This exposes homo sacer to a new kind of human violence such as is found in the camp and constitutes the political as the double exception: the exclusion of both the sacred and the profane. |
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+Liberalism tries to seize control of the state and direct the flow of history; this fails and maintains ongoing violence against the oppressed by maintaining state control. Against this, affirm an anarchy of becoming – a micropolitical reconfiguration of the subject that severs the state from the relationship to the self. |
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+Call ‘2: (Lewis Call, Associate Professor of History at Cal Poly in San Luis Obispo, 2002, Postmodern Anarchism. Lexington: Lexington Books, pp. 47-56); AB |
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+But the usual suspects have another, much more serious problem. Even if postmodern liberals can reject Nietzsche’s assaults on capitalism and the liberal state – and it is easy enough to locate passages in Nietzsche’s books where he seems to contradict these assaults – those who would use Nietzsche to shore up the eroding foundations of liberal democracy must contend with the even more powerful and radical forms of anarchy which are to be found in Nietzsche’s thought. They must contend, for example, with Nietzsche’s well-known anarchy of the subject. A number of commentators have pointed out that one of Nietzsche’s main contributions to political thought is his destruction of the conventional concepts of human subjectivity which lie at the basis of most modern political theories. Keith Ansell-Pearson suggests, for example, that the Genealogy aims “to show that one of the central ideas of moral and political theory, that of a human subject in possession of conscience and a free will, is not a natural given. William Connolly points out that after Nietzsche “the subject is not simply or unambiguously the self which establishes its unity, freedom, independence and self-transparency. And the assault on conventional (i.e., post-Enlightenment) ideas of subjectivity is not simply a metaphysical or epistemological issue. It is also a deeply political issue which has profound implications for the consruction of political theories and institutions. Those implications do not bode well for liberalism. Mark Warren summarizes the problem nicely: “Because liberals put a metaphysical placeholder in the space of the individual, they failed to theorize this space. As a result, they justified liberal forms of the state in terms of a historically conditioned effect mistaken for a universal essence. This is why Nietzsche’s understanding of nihilism in Western culture as the collapse of the individual agent also implicates the individualistic metaphysics of liberalism. Nietzsche’s assault on modern subjectivity, then, undermines the philosophical foundations of the liberal state. After Nietzsche, liberals find themselves thrown into a confusing postmodern world of multiple subject positions and decentered identities. They are forces to develop a new kind of liberal politics, one which will not rely upon epistemologically suspect categories of individuality. This is, as we have seen, a difficult task, and one which liberals rarely complete in a satisfying way. Let us now look in more detail at Nietzsche’s anarchy of the subject. Nietzsche famously regarded the free will which is central to most conventional notions of subjectivity as an egregious error. For example, he notes in Human, All Too Human that “we do not accuse nature of immorality when it sends thunderstorms and makes us wet: why do we call the harmful man immoral?” Because in the latter case we assume a voluntary commanding free will, in the former necessity. But this distinction is an error. Here Nietzsche seems to be advocating a kind of radical determinism: he views individual actions not as the product of some chimerical free will, but rather as the indirect product of the social and cultural forces which have constituted the individual who performs those actions. Of course, this has radical implications for political theory. If we understand individual actions as the product of the society and culture which produced the individual, then society is quite literally to blame for what its members do. This naturally renders conventional ideas of punishment radically incoherent. “How is it that every execution offends us more than a murder?” Nietzsche demands. “It is the coldness of the judges, the scrupulous preparation, the insight that here a human being used as a means of deterring others. For it is not guilt that is being punished, even when it exists: this lies in educators, parents, environment, in us, not in the murderer – I mean the circumstances that cause him to become one.” This is a key point for the postmodern anarchist. If we accept that humans possess no metaphysical, pre-social essence, if we accept that they are little more than nodal points where various social, economic, and cultural forces converge to produce the illusion of subjectivity, then the punishments schemes of the liberal state make no sense. Indeed, on this reading it would make more sense to execute the system itself, since it is the system that is guilty of manufacturing criminals. Revolutionaries who follow this kind of interpretation would also, perhaps, be less likely to allow their uprisings to descend into the kind of mindless terror, which was, unfortunately, to be found in abundance in France during the 1790s, in Russia during the 1920s and 1930s, or in China during the 1950s. I say this because the radical denial of free will applies to the rulers as well as the ruled. This point was made, remarkably enough, by Bakunin, who observed in 1869 that “the kings, the oppressors, exploiters of all kinds, are as guilty as the criminals who have emerged from the masses; like them, they are the evildoers who are not guilty, since they, too, are involuntary products of the present social order.” Let the guillotine be deployed, then, not against aristocratic or bourgeois tyrants but against the philosophy of subjectivity which gives such tyrants their power in the first place. Nietzsche continues his assault on traditional forms of subjectivity and consciousness in Beyond Good and Evil, questioning whether “there must necessarily be something that thinks, that thinking is an activity and operation on the part of a being who is thought of as a cause, that there is an ‘ego,’ and, finally, that it is already determined what is to be designated by thinking – that I know what thinking is.” An obvious assault on the old Cartesian concept of subjectivity (“I think, therefore I am”), Nietzsche’s critique of consciousness also has dramatic political meaning. These “thinking egos” – the rational, autonomous dramatic political meaning. These “thinking egos” – the rational, autonomous subjects who have dominated political discourse since the Enlightenment – are supposedly the beings who vote in liberal elections, who serve on the liberal juries which decide the fate of the supposedly autonomous criminals who stand before them, who use the media to inform themselves about issues so that they may form rational opinions, and so on. In short, a whole host of liberal theories and institutions depend upon a certain idea of subjectivity which is, after Nietzsche, extremely difficult to sustain. This anarchy of the subject makes possible another, possibly even more radical form of anarchy, an anarchy of becoming. If Nietzsche is right about the status of the subject in the late modern period – and an entire tradition of twentieth-century Continental philosophy suggests that his analysis is at least presciently persuasive with regards to the postmodern period – then we must radically rethink what it means to be human. Previous concepts of subjectivity (and thus previous political theories) focused on being: I am this autonomous person, I am this rational citizen of a liberal democracy. Nietzsche shifts our attention to becoming. If, as he argues, the subject has no firm metaphysical ground and no center, if indeed our subjectivity is in a constant state of flux, then the meaning of our lives must be constantly changing. It is, of course, somewhat alarming to think that we might have no fixed being, that our essence (if we have one) must reside in a constant stream of transformations. However, the thought of becoming can also be a very liberating thought. All radical thinking demands change, and Nietzsche’s demands more than most. To the conventional radical’s demands for social and political change, Nietzsche adds the demand for a change in our very consciousness, in the way we view our relationship to time and history. In this sense, Nietzsche’s thought stands as one of the most radical ever conceived, for it asserts nothing less than this: change is the very heart of who and what we are. And this is true, says Nietzsche, not only of ourselves but of our world. “If the world had a goal, it must have been reaches. If it were in any way capable of pausing and becoming fixed, of ‘being,’ if in the whole course of its becoming it possessed even for a moment of this capability of ‘being,’ then all becoming would long since have come to an end, along with all thinking, all ‘spirit.’ The fact of ‘spirit’ as a form of becoming proves that the world has no goal, no final state, and is incapable of being.” For Nietzsche, the world has no teleology, no destination. The forces of history do not direct us toward a Zeitgeist named Hegel. Indeed, if Hegel was the preeminent philosopher of the state, Nietzsche’s philosophy of perpetual becoming can only herald the state’s demise. |
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+HE CONTINUES… So: Nietzsche’s thought, which explodes all manifestations of the conventional political subject – its rationality, its language, its thoughts, its theories, its states, its economics – stand at the origin of the subversive counteridea which I call postmodern anarchism. Such an anarchism represents a tactical use of Nietzsche’s thinking, not (as the usual suspects propose) to shore up the rapidly eroding theoretical foundations of liberal democracy but rather to finish off that withered remnant of subject-centered post-Enlightenment politics, in order to open up a space for something more interesting. Postmodern anarchism asserts that the problems which face us today are not the result of flaws in our political structures which can be alleviated through reform of through the seizure of state power. Rather, the problem lies in the structures themselves, and in the epistemologies which sustain those structures. Nietzsche’s anarchy of the subject makes it quite clear that our culture is to blame for the sorry state of affairs in which we find ourselves. Following this guilty verdict, modern political culture in general and liberal political culture in particular may expect to receive a death sentence. The liberals warn that this way lies madness. We say: we cannot know what may lie further down this river of becoming. But at least we know that it will be radically different from the disastrous political situation in which we find ourselves presently. Perhaps the greatest appeal of postmodern Nietzschean anarchism lies in the fact that it runs little risk of falling into theoretical and political traps faced by all merely modern revolutions. Marxims and nineteenth-century anarchism criticized capital, bourgeois values, and the liberal state – but they did so using the language, the terms, and the theoretical tools of the very bourgeois order they sought to undermine. Lenin and Mao sought to reshape the state into something which could sanction genuine political and economic freedom, but they retained so many of the old forms that they ended up reproducing the old varieties of repression and exploitation. “The problem for revolutionaries today,” as Deleuze argues, is to unite within the purpose of a particular struggle without falling into the despotic and bureaucratic organization of the party or state apparatus, a nomadic unit related to the outside that will not revive an internal despotic unity. Perhaps this is what is most profound in Nietzsche’s thought and marks the extent of his break with philosophy, at least so far as it is manifested in the aphorism: he made thought into a machine of war – a battering ram – into a nomadic force. As always, it is the performative effect of Nietzsche’s thought, rather than its explicit content, which concerns us. And one crucial effect of his thinking is that it removes philosophy from the horizons of the state. And it is an event whose ramifications will continue to be felt for some time. Just as news of the death of God takes a long time reach us, so too does news of the death of the state. But the word of these deaths draws inexorably nearer. For no God and no state can hope to survive a full engagement with that thinking which detonates all fixed human identities and reveals as mere phantasms of consciousness all fixed politics, economics, and culture. |
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+Politics that does not begin with the creation of the self is doomed to reactivity and ressentiment. This inscribes hatred into the place of power and reaffirms existing structures of domination. |
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+Newman 2k: (Saul Newman, Professor of Political Theory at the University of London at Goldsmiths, 2000, “Anarchism and the Politics of Ressentiment,” Theory and Event, 4:3); AB |
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+Ressentiment is diagnosed by Nietzsche as our modern condition. In order to understand ressentiment, however, it is nec-essary to understand the relationship between master morality and slave morality in which ressentiment is generated. Nietzsche’s work On the Genealogy of Morality is a study of the origins of morality. For Nietzsche, the way we interpret and impose values on the world has a history — its origins are often brutal and far removed from the values they produce. The value of ‘good’, for instance, was invented by the noble and high-placed to apply to themselves, in contrast to common, low-placed and plebeian.3 It was the value of the master — ‘good’ — as opposed to that of the slave — ‘bad’. Thus, according to Nietzsche, it was in this pathos of distance, between the high-born and the low-born, this absolute sense of superiority, that values were created.4 However, this equation of good and aristocratic began to be undermined by a slave revolt in values. This slave revolt, according to Nietzsche, began with the Jews who instigated a revaluation of values: It was the Jews who, rejecting the aristocratic value equation (good = noble = powerful = beautiful = happy = blessed) ventured with awe-inspiring consistency, to bring about a reversal and held it in the teeth of their unfathomable hatred (the hatred of the powerless), saying, ‘Only those who suffer are good, only the poor, the powerless, the lowly are good; the suffering, the deprived, the sick, the ugly, are the only pious people, the only ones, salvation is for them alone, whereas you rich, the noble, the powerful, you are eternally wicked, cruel, lustful, insatiate, godless, you will also be eternally wretched, cursed and damned!’…5 In this way the slave revolt in morality inverted the noble system of values and began to equate good with the lowly, the powerless — the slave. This inversion introduced the pernicious spirit of revenge and hatred into the creation of values. There- will to power. It would be, in other words, an anarchism without ressentiment. The question of community is central to radical politics, including anarchism. One cannot talk about collective action without at least posing the question of community. For Nietzsche, most modern radical aspirations towards community were a manifestation of the ‘herd’ mentality. However it may be possible to construct a ressentiment-free notion of community from Nietzsche’s own concept of power. For Nietzsche, active power is the individual’s instinctive discharge of his forces and capacities which produces in him an enhanced sensation of power, while reactive power, as we have seen, needs an external object to act on and define itself in opposition to.66 Perhaps one could imagine a form of community based on active power. For Nietzsche this enhanced feeling of power may be derived from assistance and benevolence towards others, from enhancing the feeling of power of others.67 Like the ethics of mutual aid, a community based on will to power may be composed of a series of inter-subjective relations that involve helping and caring for people without dominating them and denying difference. This openness to difference and self-transformation, and the ethic of care, may be the defining characteristics of the post-anarchist democratic community. This would be a community of active power — a community of ‘masters’ rather than ‘slaves’.68 It would be a community that sought to overcome itself — continually transforming itself and revelling in the knowledge of its power to do so. Post-anarchism may be seen, then, as a series of politicoethical strategies against domination, without essentialist guarantees and Manichean structures that condition and restrict classical anarchism. It would affirm the contingency of values and identities, including its own, and affirm, rather than deny, fore morality, as we understand it, had its roots in this vengeful will to power of the powerless over the powerful — the revolt of the slave against the master. It was from this imperceptible, subterranean hatred that grew the values subsequently associated with the good — pity, altruism, meekness, etc. Political values also grew from this poisonous root. For Nietzsche, values of equality and democracy, which form the cornerstone of radical political theory, arose out of the slave revolt in morality. They are generated by the same spirit of revenge and hatred of the powerful. Nietzsche therefore condemns political movements like liberal democracy, socialism, and indeed anarchism. He sees the democratic movement as an expression of the herd-animal morality derived from the Judeo-Christian revaluation of values.6 Anarchism is for Nietzsche the most extreme heir to democratic values — the most rabid expression of the herd instinct. It seeks to level the differences between individuals, to abolish class distinctions, to raze hierarchies to the ground, and to equalize the powerful and the powerless, the rich and the poor, the master and the slave. To Nietzsche this is bringing everything down to level of the lowest common denominator — to erase the pathos of distance between the master and slave, the sense of difference and superiority through which great values are created. Nietzsche sees this as the worst excess of European nihilism — the death of values and creativity. Slave morality is characterized by the attitude of ressentiment — the resentment and hatred of the powerless for the powerful. Nietzsche sees ressentiment as an entirely negative sentiment — the attitude of denying what is life-affirming, saying ‘no’ to what is different, what is ‘outside’ or ‘other’. Ressentiment is characterized by an orientation to the outside, rather than the focus of noble morality, which is on the self.7 While the master says ‘I am good’ and adds as an afterthought, ‘therefore he is bad’; the slave says the opposite — ‘He (the master) is bad, therefore I am good’. Thus the invention of values comes from a comparison or opposition to that which is outside, other, different. Nietzsche says: “… in order to come about, slave morality first has to have an opposing, external world, it needs, psychologically speaking, external stimuli in order to act all, — its action is basically a reaction.”8 This reactive stance, this inability to define anything except in opposition to something else, is the attitude of ressentiment. It is the reactive stance of the weak who define themselves in opposition to the strong. |
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+Reject ressentiment cuz it really sucks – it’s a revengeful hatred of the squo – outweighs all other impacts. Bracketed for gendered language. |
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+Deleuze ‘83: Gilles, 1983, Nietzsche and Philosophy, pg. 34-36 |
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+Is this difference only psychological? A difference of mood or tone? Nietzsche's philosophy depends, in general, on the principle that ressentiment, bad conscience etc. are not psychological determinations. Nietzsche calls the enterprise of denying life and depreciating existence nihilism. He analyses the principal forms of nihilism, ressentiment, bad conscience, ascetic ideal; the whole of nihilism and its forms he calls the spirit of revenge. But, the different forms of nihilism are not at all reducible to psychological determinations, historical events or ideological currents, not even to metaphysical structures. 3 0 The spirit of revenge is undoubtedly expressed biologically, psychologically, historically and metaphysically; the spirit of revenge is a type, it is not separable from a typology, the key stone of Nietzschean philosophy. But the problem is: what is the nature of this typology? Far from being a psychological trait the spirit of revenge is the principle on which our whole psychology depends. Ressentiment is not part of psychology but the whole of our psychology, without knowing it, is a part of ressentiment. In the same way, when Nietzsche shows that Christianity is full of ressentiment and bad conscience he does not make nihilism a historical event, it is rather the element of history as such, the motor of universal history, the famous "historical meaning" or "meaning of history" which at one time found its most adequate manifestation in Christianity. And when Nietzsche undertakes the critique of nihilism he makes nihilism the presupposition of all metaphysics rather than the expression of particular metaphysics: there is no metaphysics which does not judge and depreciate life in the name of a supra-sensible world. We cannot even say that nihilism and its forms are categories of thought, for the categories of thought, of reasonable thought - identity, causality, finality - themselves presuppose an interpretation of force which is that of ressentiment. For all these reasons Nietzsche can say: "The instinct of revenge has gained such a hold on humanity over the centuries that the whole of metaphysics, psychology, history and above all morality bear its imprint. As soon as man began thinking he The Tragic 35 introduced the bacillus of revenge into things" (VP III 458). We must understand this as meaning that the instinct of revenge is the force which constitutes the essence of what we call psychology, history, metaphysics and morality. The spirit of revenge is the genealogical element of our thought, the transcendental principle of our way of thinking. Nietzsche's struggle against nihilism and the spirit of revenge will therefore mean the reversal of metaphysics, the end of history as history of man and the transformation of the sciences. And we do not really know what a man person denuded of ressentiment would be like. A man who would not accuse or depreciate existence - would he still be a man, would he think like a man? Would he not already be something other than a man, almost the Overman? To have ressentiment or not to have ressentiment - there is no greater difference, beyond psychology, beyond history, beyond metaphysics. It is the true difference or transcendental typology - the genealogical and hierarchical difference. Nietzsche presents the aim of his philosophy as the freeing of thought from nihilism and its various forms. Now, this implies a new way of thinking, an overthrow of the principle on which thought depends, a straightening out of the genealogical principle itself, a "transmutation". For a long time we have only been able to think in terms oi ressentiment and bad conscience. We have had no other ideal but the ascetic ideal. We have opposed knowledge to life in order to judge life, in order to make it something blameworthy, responsible or erroneous. We turned will into something bad, something stricken by a basic contradiction: we have said that it must be rectified, restrained, limited and even denied and suppressed. It was only any good at this price. There is no philosopher who, discovering the essence of will, has not groaned at his own discovery and, like the timid fortuneteller, has not immediately seen bad omens for the future and the source of all evils of the past. Schopenhauer pushed this old conception to its extreme limit; the penitentiary of the will, he said, and the wheel of Ixion. Nietzsche is the only one who does not groan at the discovery of the will, who does not try to exorcise it, or limit its effect. The phrase "a new way of thinking" means an affirmative thought, a thought which affirms life and the will to life, a thought which finally expels the whole of the negative; to believe in the innocence of the future and the past, to believe in the eternal return. What Nietzsche calls his glad tidings is that existence is no longer treated as blameworthy nor does the will feel guilty for existing. "Will, this is what the liberator and the messenger of joy is called" (Z II "Of Redemption"). 3 1 The glad tidings are tragic thought, for tragedy is not found in the recriminations of ressentiment, the conflicts of bad conscience or the contradictions of a will which feels guilty and responsible. The tragic does not even fight against ressentiment, bad conscience or nihilism. According to Nietzsche it has never been understood that the tragic = the joyful. This is another way of putting the great equation: to will = to create. We have not understood that the tragic is pure and multiple positivity, dynamic gaeity. |
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+Part 2 is The Phenomenon of Speech |
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+Speech codes are biopolitical – the state arbitrarily defines linguistic constraints – it empowers hate speech when it wants to. The state shields itself from self-incrimination by punishing individuals whose speech is evidentiary of the state’s failure. This leaves the individual vulnerable and the state all-powerful. |
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+Butler ‘97: Judith Butler writes in “Excitable Speech: A Politics of the Performative.” Judith Butler is Chancellor's Professor in the departments of Rhetoric and Comparative Literature at the University of California, Berkeley. She is also the author of Gender Trouble and Bodies That Matter, co-author of Feminist Contentions, and co-editor! with Joan W. Scotti of Feminists Theorize the Political All are available from Routledge; AB |
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+I consider the logic of this policy in the next chapter, and I propose to return to that figure of efficacious and offensive utterance toward the end of this one. In the interim, however, I aim to consider the construal of hate speech as offensive conduct, the effort to construe pornography as hate speech, and the concomitant effort to seek re- SOVEREIGN PERFORMATIVES course to the state to remedy the injuries allegedly caused by hate speech. What happens when we seek recourse to the state to regulate such speech? In particular, how is ~he regulatory power of the state enhanced through such an appeal? This is, perhaps, a familiar argument that I hope to make in a less than familiar way. My concern is not only with the protection of civil liberties against the incursion of the state, but with the peculiar discursive power given over to the state through the process of legal redress. I would like to suggest a formulation for the problem that might seem paradoxical, but which I think, even in its hyperbolic mode, might shed some light on the problem that regulating hate, speech poses. That formulation is this: the state produces hate speech, and by this I do not mean that the state is accountable for the various slurs, epithets, and forms of invective that currently circulate throughout the population. I mean only that the category cannot exist without the state's ratification, and this power of the state's judicial language to establish and maintain the domain of what will be publicly speakable suggests that the state plays much more than a limiting function in such decisions; in fact, the state actively produces the domain of publically acceptable speech, demarcating the line between the domains of the speakable and the unspeakable, and retaining the power to make and sustain that consequential line of demarcation. The inflated and efficacious utterance attributed to hate speech in some of the politicized contexts discussed above is itself modeled on the speech of a sovereign state, understood as a sovereign speech act, a speech act with the power to do what it says. This sovereign power is attributed to hate speech when it is said to "deprive" us of rights and liberties. The power attributed to hate speech is a power of absolute and efficacious agency, performativity and transitivity at once (it does what it says and it does what it says it will do to the one addressed by the speech). Precisely this power of legal language is that to which we refer when we call upon the state to effect the regulation of offensive speech. The problem, then, is not that the force of the sovereign performative is wrong, but when used by citizens it is wrong, and when intervened upon by the state, it is, in these contexts, right. The same kind of force, however, is attributed to the performative in both instances, and that version of performative power is never brought into question by those who pursue heightened regulation. What is this power? And how are we to account for its sustained production within hate speech discourse, as well as its continuing allure? Before venturing an answer to these questions, it seems worth noting that this invocation of the sovereign performative takes place against the background of a political situation in which power is no longer constrained within the sovereign form of the state. Diffused throughout disparate and competing domains of the state apparatus, and through civil society in diffuse forms as well, power cannot be easily or definitively traced to a single subject who is its "speaker:' to a sovereign representative of the state. To the extent that Foucault is right to describe contemporary relations of power as emanating from a number of possible sites, power is no longer constrained by the parameters of sovereignty. The difficulty of describing power as a sovereign formation, however, in no way precludes fantasizing or figuring power in precisely that way; to the contrary, the historical loss of the sovereign 78 1 organization of power appears to occasion the fantasy of its return-a return, I want to argue, . that takes place in language, in the figure of the performative. The emphasis on the performative phantasmatically resurrects the performative in language, establishing language as a displaced site of politics and specifying that displacement as driven by a wish to return to a simpler and more reassuring map of power, one in which the assumption of sovereignty remains secure. |
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+Vote aff to reject the politics of aesthetics – we must recognize the role of speech as simply a form of communication. The failure of power structures is responsible for the rise of hate speech – the aff’s anarchy of becoming controls the internal link to defining your own place in the world. |
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+Gilmore ‘9: Paul Gilmore (Paul Gilmore, Associate Professor of English at California State University, Long Beach – scholar critical work in dealing with the history, transatlantic dimensions, and political promises of American Romantic literature - Aesthetic Materialism: Electricity and American Romanticism, Published 01/01/2009) |
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+From this reading, Shelley’s idea of the poet as an unacknowledged legislator wielding a sword of lightning takes on a new light, revealing the limitations as well as the power of poetry as a political force. Eschewing the utopianism of the late Enlightenment, Shelley electrifies the human imagination, rendering it both the medium where the mental and the physical meet and the source of intellectual and physical freedom. As such, the materiality of electric poetry lies not just in its physicality—in language being registered by the senses—but in its genesis within and action upon the social world. Poetry is material because it is literally words, which are material themselves, but it is also material in a sociohistorical sense, the product of material conditions of political and economic structures. In “Defence,” for example, Shelley indicates that it is poetry’s embeddeness in what we might now call social discourse that gives it its “electric life,” as that life is “less the poets’ spirit than the spirit of the age” (7:140). Similarly, in the preface to Prometheus Unbound, in further developing the figure of lightning thought, Percy elaorates this relationship between mind and the world, gesturing to its political implications: “The great writers of our own age are, we have reason to suppose, the companions and forerunners of some unimagined change in our social condition, or the opinions which cement it. The cloud of mind is discharging its collected lightning, and the equilibrium between institutions and opinions is now restoring, or is about to be restored” (2:173). Echoing Schlegel’s prediction about the lightning charge of poetry, Percy at once envisions political revolution and at the same time insists that the changes to come are unpredictable, are “unimagined.” Thus, in concluding his preface to Prometheus Unbound, Percy acknowledges his “‘passion for reforming the world,’” but insists that his poetry does not contain “a reasoned system on the theory of human life. Didactic poetry is my abhorrence” (2:174). As Kaufman, from an Adornian-Marxist position, Paul Hamilton, from a Habermasian-Public Sphere approach, and Redfield, from a de Manian–deconstructive angle, have all differently argued, it is this refusal of political commitment that allows Shelley to provide an alternative understanding of aesthetic politics.27 Through acknowledging the material opacity of language itself and by gesturing to the radical indeterminacy of meaning, in drawing on materialist understandings of the mind and the basis of the self in the senses, and in recognizing the sociohistorical conditions and material means by which poetry is disseminated, Percy Shelley emerges as a theorist and practitioner of a kind of aesthetics imagined to engender critical thinking about one’s self and the world, a process of constantly questioning received ideas that opens the self to new experiences and new perspectives that might provide the ground for sociopolitical change but that refuses to offer a political programme. |
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+State censorship stagnates activism, which obscures state violence. |
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+Davis ‘99: Davis, Diane. “‘Addicted to Love’; Or, Toward an Inessential Solidarity.” Vol. 19 No. 4. 1999 |
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+Our fix of finitude, however, reminds us that this so-called home is haunted. In fact, etymologically speaking, "what haunts is also a haunt something that doubles. . .for a familiar place. Haunting belongs to the family of Heim" (Ronell, Dictations xviii). Heim, then, is never not unheimlich; a home is never not haunted. What goes for the subject's home-base, ethos, is spooked, relentlessly, by itsown fractal interiorities, its own unditchable and unsharable alterity?its finitude, which is precisely what it shares with others.15 There never was any "internal peace" in "self-identification," as Lyotard has warned, that was not purchased at the price of what itmust exorcise: "The Volk shuts itself up in theHeim, and it identifies itself through the narratives attached to names" (Differend 151)?that is, through the identification associated with Geschlecht? exorcising its spooks so as to preserve its illusion of stasis, of sobriety. When "communication" signifies only "reasonable exchange" among subjects, you can bet that alterity already will have been barred from the conversation. This is why Nancy charges that "the conventional chatter that attempts to promote reasonable exchange" as synonymous with communication "serves only to obscure violence, betrayal, and lies" ("Exscription" 319)? serves, that is, only to cover over the finitude itought to be exposing. It may be that any theory of communication that places a speaking subject in charge of building community effaces the sharing it attempts to promote. The "subject representing," after all, is not the same as the "being-communicating" (Nancy, Inoperative 24). Communication. . .happens? it is beyond our control; it is, in fact, who we are: communication is "the predicament of being" for any ekstatic existent (24). In as much as this existent functions as "threshold," it is continuously exposed to an in-common outside and so is always already communicating finite being to finite being by virtue of that exposure, by virtue of an involuntary. . .touch. There is no escaping community or this irrepressible communication, which neither expresses a bondage nor approximates a Vulcan mind-meld but simply operates as an exposition of the finitude.. .that.. .we.. .share?an exposition, as George Bataille has put it, that "tears us together" (22). A subject's representations can aim to crank up this rustle of finitude or to tune it out, but communication will have been happening, either way.
Maybe this needs to be made explicit: this originary "communication," this sharing, does not signify "under/standing." That is,what "communication" gives us to understand, Nancy explains, is only "that there is no common understanding of or in community, that sharing does not constitute an understanding (or a concept, or an intuition, or a schema), that it does not constitute a knowledge, and that it gives no one, including community itself, mastery over being-in-common" ("Myth Interrupted" 69). Communication is no more or less than the exposition of the overflowing, inappropriable, unsharable finitude that we share. And neither speaking nor writing is a means of this communication; rather, each is "communication itself, an exposure" (Nancy, Inoperative 31). Communication as understanding, Nancy observes, "is always disappointing," it's always "the communication of a disappointment, a nonpossibility, awithdrawal of communication" ("Speaking" 314-15). One can never be sure that a communique will arrive at itsdestination, and one can be fairly certain that ifitdoes, itwon't arrive aswhat itwas when itwas sent. And yet, in all the missed connections, in all the another communication is exposed: a communication that communicates the withdrawal or understanding and/but also the opening of another kind of sharing (315).16
This is not to say that what gets said is insignificant. But it is to say that a certain irrepressible communication is not about exchanging information, arguing a point, or expressing a bond: it's only about exposing understanding's withdrawal and so exposing finitude. . .as what we share. The ethical question par excellence for the third sophistic rhetorician is not how to move an audience toward a predetermined action or attitude but rather how to crank up the "noise," the excess, the interference that must be silenced for the sake of "reasonable erits," for the sake of cutting unifying figures. The question, in other words, that finitude prompts is not how to use language to build community; it is, rather, how to amplify the communications of community that are drowned out by the processes of identification. |
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+The aff is key to creating a space beyond the law – we must ignore the biopolitical state’s speech codes to critically re-interrogate our practices, developing our own identities in the process by allowing us to define what speech we want to express. |
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+Noterman and Pusey ‘12: (Elsa Noterman is Program Associate at the Community Strategies Group of the Aspen Insitute, Andre Pusey is a PhD candidate in the School of Geography at the University of Leeds, UK, “Inside, Outside, and on the Edge of the Academy: Experiments in Radical Pedagogies” in Anarchist Pedagogies: Collective Action, Theories, and Critical Reflections on Education, pp. 192-194); AB |
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+So, how do we build this new kind of open and ephemeral institution? We think it is important to open up spaces in which we can both experiment with, and critically reflect upon, radical pedagogical practices. The crisis of the university is a crisis that throws up new openings and possibilities for what a university could be. These spaces can work toward pushing the boundaries of the academy by concretely asking, “what can a university do?” in praxis We need to engage in a discussion about how we can go forward as critical-radical researchers inside, outside and on the periphery of the academy. Is there any place for us within the institution as it is? Or as Stefano Harney and Fred Moten (2004) suggest, is the “only possible with the relationship to the university today . . . a criminal one”? This opens up the question/possibility of what Virno terms “exodus,” but which might also be described as “desertion.” This is not a territorial exodus, or a fleeing from, but rather a desertion of one’s assigned role, in this case of the “critical” yet docile body (Foucault, 2004) of the academic. As Harney and Moten (2004) put it, “to be in but not of is the path of the subversive intellectual in the modern university.” In part, the Really Open University is an experiment in just this. The creation of spaces in which we can begin to interrogate the role of the university and of the academic, not just as theoretical exercise, but within an implicitly antagonistic, yet not wholly reactive, space of political engagement. This is a messy space that avoids any pure politics, or identitarian overcoding, neither overtly anarchist, nor Marxist, nor simply an “anticuts” group, yet neither a purely utopian reimagining. This is necessarily a “cramped space,” of (im)possibility, as Deleuze (2005) states, “creation takes place in bottlenecks.” Many elements of the edu-struggle will ultimately want to close down the categories again, in order to give more weight to their ideological underpinnings, trying to make the moment fit their politics, rather than seizing the moment in all its wealth of potentiality. The ROU views ‘crisis as possibility’ arguing that it is “up to us to decide the universities future.”17 But through what concrete actions might we actually develop a “really open university”? One way to begin may be through the occupation of the spaces where we work, play and consume, and the reappropriation of this time and space for our own (common) ends. This may help to promote new lines of questioning and open up new connectivities. One way to discuss this occupation and reappropriation, might be the literal forced reclamation of space, though direct action. This has, of course, been a tried and tested method across history, and we have seen the tactic of occupation has begun to some extent become popular again, with the recent occupations at universities across the UK, but to a much larger extent across Europe and the United States. We think there is an interesting dynamic, however, between defensive and offensive uses of occupation. We do not wish to set up a binary, but rather are interested in the qualitative shifts and activities that can occur within the occupied space itself, rather than simply the obstructive element of occupation. This problematic has been explored in the U.S. occupations movement through the often heated debate about the utility of political demands, versus occupation without demands. For example, “Occupation mandates the inversion of the standard dimensions of space. Space in an occupation is not merely the container of our bodies, it is a plane of potentiality that has been frozen by the logic of the commodity” (Inoperative Committee, 2009). Another way to discuss the occupation and reappropriation of time and space might be through the creation of new spaces that prefigure the new forms we may wish a reimagined university to take. A concrete example of this is the model of the autonomous social center, or “infoshop,” found within anarchist and autonomous activist practices (Atton, 1999). Social centers are place-based, self-managed spaces. They can be squatted, rented or cooperatively owned (Pusey, 2010). A particularly rich history of social centers can be found in Italy, but they exist all across Europe. In the United States the closest approximation to the autonomous social centers seems to be the network of radical bookstores and “infoshops” such as Red Emma’s in Baltimore and Bluestockings in New York City (Kanuga, 2010). Some academics at the University of Lincoln are attempting to develop a cooperatively run “social science center” that utilizes a social center type autonomous space, where they can practice radical pedagogical methods (Winn, 2010). The idea is that students will be able to enroll for free and staff will still be paid. We can imagine, based on our experiences and research within social centers in the UK, that this would be controversial within anarchist circles, both for its relationship with the institution of the university, and also because of its payment of academic staff. Payment for some roles performed within some spaces has been a source of much debate and contention within social centers within the UK (Chatterton, 2008). These spaces generally rely on the good will and free time of volunteers. However, many spaces cite burnout and lack of participation as major issues within social centers (UK Social Centres Network, 2008). The “dole autonomy” (Aufheben, 1999), which helped facilitate earlier cycles of struggle, has been very much weakened with successive government attacks on the welfare state, and students increasingly forced to take employment while studying means that there are far fewer people around with the “free time” to help enable projects such as these. It is, perhaps, through the establishment of self-organized alternative educational practices, and open and ephemeral institutions that we can start to value ideas for their own merit, rather than capitalist value—to create spaces and places where we can discard the price tags of commodified knowledge and instrumental learning, and instead appreciate the value of ideas and concepts themselves, while rediscovering the subversiveness of teaching. |
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+I defend the whole resolution as a thought experiment. Public colleges and universities in the United States ought not restrict any constitutionally protected speech. The resolution is negative state action, so a pre-fiat framing is justified. |
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+Part 3 is Don’t Read Policy Theory |
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+Evaluate kritikal discussion above policy-making arguments. |
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+Reject policy arguments for 4 reasons: |
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+1) The 1AC takes the political system hostage. Either the 1AC is right and we must change the system, or the system silences us, shatters its liberal appearance, and gives our life contradictory value. My symbolic hostage taking is the process necessary to produce new mindsets that lead to revolutionary change. The idea of material change cannot be separated from a prior immaterial change. |
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+Baudrillard ‘76: Jean Baudrillard (Philosopher of the upmost Swag) “Symbolic Exchange and Death” 1976. |
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+We will not destroy the system by a direct, dialectical revolution of the economic or political infrastructure . Everything produced by contradiction, by the relation of forces, or by energy in general, will only feed back into the mechanism and give it impetus, following a circular distortion similar to a Moebius strip. We will never defeat it by following its own logic of energy, calculation, reason and revolution, history and power, or some finality or counter finality. The worst violence at this level has no purchase, and will only backfire against itself. We will never defeat the system on the plane of the real: the worst error of all our revolutionary strategies is to believe that we will put an end to the system on the plane of the real: this is their imaginary, imposed on them by the system itself, living or surviving only by always leading those who attack the system to fight amongst each other on the terrain of reality, which is always the reality of the system. This is where they throw all their energies, their imaginary violence, where an implacable logic constantly turns back into the system. We have only to do it violence or counter-violence since it thrives on symbolic violence - not in the degraded sense in which this formula has found fortune, as a violence 'of signs' , from which the system draws strength, or with which it 'masks' its material violence: symbolic violence is deduced from a logic of the symbolic (which has nothing to do with the sign or with energy): reversal , the incessant reversibility o f the counter-gift and, conversely, the seizing of power by the unilateral exercise of the gift. 25 We must therefore displace everything into the sphere of the symbolic, where challenge , reversal and overbidding are the law, so that we can respond to death only by an equal or superior death. There is no question here of real violence or force, the only question concerns the challenge and the logic of the symbolic. If domination comes from the system's retention of the exclusivity of the gift without counter-gift - the gift of work which can only be responded to by destruction or sacrifice, if not in consumption , which is only a spiral of the system of surplus-gratification without result, therefore a spiral of surplus-domination , a gift of media and messages to which , due to the monopoly of the code , nothing is allowed to retort; the gift , everywhere and at every instant, of the social , of the protection agency, security, gratification and the solicitation of the social from which nothing is any longer permitted to escape - then the only solution is to turn the principle of its power back against the system itself: the impossibility of responding or retorting. To defy the system with a gift to which it cannot respond save by its own collapse and death. Nothing, not even the system, can avoid the symbolic obligation , and it is in this trap that the only chance of a catastrophe for capital remains. The system turns on itself, as a scorpion does when encircled by the challenge of death. For it is summoned to answer, if it is not to lose face, to what can only be death. The system must itself commit suicide in response to the multiplied challenge of death and suicide. So hostages are taken. On the symbolic or sacrificial plane, from which every moral consideration of the innocence of the victims is ruled out, the hostage is the substitute, the alter-ego of the ' terrorist' - the hostage's death for the terrorist's. Hostage and terrorist may thereafter become confused in the same sacrificial act. The stakes are death without any possibility of negotiation, and therefore return to an inevitable overbidding. Of course, they attempt to deploy the whole system of negotiation, and the terrorists themselves often enter into this exchange scenario in terms of this calculated equivalence (the hostages' lives against some ransom or liberation, or indeed for the prestige of the operation alone). From this perspective, taking hostages is not original at all it simply creates an unforeseen and selective relation of forces which can be resolved either by traditional violence or by negotiation. It is a tactical action. There is something else at stake, however, as we clearly saw at The Hague over the course of ten days of incredible negotiations: no-one knew what could be negotiated, nor could they agree on terms, nor on the possible equivalences of the exchange. Or again, even if they were formulated, the 'terrorists' demands' amounted to a radical denial of negotiation. It is precisely here that everything is played out, for with the impossibility of all negotiation we pass into the symbolic order, which is ignorant of this type of calculation and exchange (the system itself lives solely by negotiation, even if this takes place in the equilibrium of violence). The system can only respond to this irruption of the symbolic (the most serious thing to befall it, basically the only ' revolution' ) by the real, physical death of the terrorists. This, however, is its defeat, since their death was their stake, so that by bringing about their deaths the system has merely impaled itself on its own violence without really responding to the challenge that was thrown to it. Because the system can easily compute every death, even war atrocities, but cannot compute the death-challenge or symbolic death , since this death has no calculable equivalent, it opens up an inexpiable overbidding by other means than a death in exchange. Nothing corresponds to death except death. Which is precisely what happens in this case: the system itself is driven to suicide in return, which suicide is manifest in its disarray and defeat. However infinitesimal in terms of relations of forces it might be, the colossal apparatus of power is eliminated in this situation where (the very excess of its) derision is turned back against itself. The police and the army, all the institutions and mobilised violence of power whether individually or massed together, can do nothing against this lowly but symbolic death. For this death draws it onto a plane where there is no longer any response possible for it (hence the sudden structural liquefaction of power in '68, not because it was less strong, but because of the simple symbolic displacement operated by the students' practices) . The system can only die in exchange, defeat itself to lift the challenge. Its death at this instant is a symbolic response, but a death which wears it out. The challenge has the efficiency of a murderer. Every society apart from ours knows that, or used to know it. Ours is in the process of rediscovering it. The routes of symbolic effectiveness are those of an alternative politics. Thus the dying ascetic challenges God ever to give him the equivalent of this death. God does all he can to give him this equivalent 'a hundred times over' , in the form of prestige , of spiritual power, indeed of global hegemony But the ascetic's secret dream is to attain such an extent of mortification that even God would be unable either to take up the challenge , or to absorb the debt . He will then have triumphed over God, and become God himself. That is why the ascetic is always close to heresy and sacrilege , and as such condemned by the Church , whose function it is merely to preserve God from this symbolic face-to-face, to protect Him from this mortal challenge where He is summoned to die, to sacrifice Himself in order to take up the challenge of the mortified ascetic. The Church will have had this role for all time, avoiding this type of catastrophic confrontation (catastrophic primarily for the Church) and substituting a rule-bound exchange of penitences and gratifications, the impressario of a system of equivalences between God and men. The same situation exists in our relation to the system of power. All these institutions, all these social, economic, political and psychological mediations, are there so that no-one ever has the opportunity to issue this symbolic challenge, this challenge to the death, the irreversible gift which, like the absolute mortification of the ascetic, brings about a victory over all power, however powerful its authority maybe. It is no longer necessary that the possibility of this direct symbolic confrontation ever takes place. And this is the source of our profound boredom. This is why taking hostages and other similar acts rekindle some fascination: they are at once an exorbitant mirror for the system of its own repressive violence, and the model of a symbolic violence which is always forbidden it, the only violence it cannot exert: its own death. |
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+2) Restricting debate to fiat undermines debate about assumptions underlying policy and teaches us to not defend the process by which we make our conclusions. |
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+Gunder ‘9: senior planning lecturer at the Aukland University Michael. “Planning in Ten Words or Less: A Lacanian Entanglement with Spatial Planning”. Pg. 11-12. //AB |
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+The hegemonic network, or bloc, initially shapes the debates and draws on appropriate policies of desired success, such as the needs of bohemians, knowledge clusters, or talented knowledge workers, as to what constitutes their desired enjoyment (cobblestones, chrome and cappuccinos at sidewalk cafes) and what is therefore lacking in local competitiveness. In tum, this defines what is blighted and dysfunctional and in need of economic, spatial planning, or other, remedy. Such an argument is predicated on a logic, or more accurately a rhetoric, that a lack of a particular defined type of enjoyment, or competitiveness (for surely they are one and the same) is inherently unhealthy for the aggregate social body. Lack and its resolution are generally presented as technical, rather than political issues. Consequently, technocrats in partnership with their "˜dominant stakeholders` can ensure the impression of rationally seeking to produce happiness for the many whilst, of course, achieving their stakeholders’ specific interests (Gunder and Hillier 2007a, 469). The current post-democratic` milieu facilitates the above through avoidance of critical policy debate challenging favored orthodox positions and policy approaches. Consideration of policy deficiencies, or alternative solutions, are eradicated from political debate so that while token institutions of liberal democracy’ are retained conflicting positions and arguments are negated (Stavrakakis 2003, 59). Consequently, the safe names in the field who feed the policy orthodoxy are repeatedly used or their work drawn upon by different stakeholders, while more critical voices are silenced by their inability to shape policy debates’ (Boland 2007, 1032). The economic development or spatial planning policy analyst thus continues to partition reality ideologically by deploying only the orthodox "successful” or "best practice” economic development or spatial planning responses. This further maintains the dominant, or hegemonic, status quo while providing "˜a cover and shield against critical thought by acting in the manner of a "buffer" isolating the political held from any research that is independent and radical in its conception as in its implications for public policy’ (Wacquant 2004, 99). At the same time, adoption of the hegemonic orthodoxy tends to generate similar policy responses for every competing local area or city-region, largely resulting in a zero-sum game (Blair and Kumar 1997). |
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+3) Scholarship and ideas get co-opted if we believe that the state’s “inevitableness” means we have to use it. The only way to get out of this cycle of state oppression is to think outside the structures of the state. If it’s utopian to reject the state, then that’s what’s needed to change society. This is a stance against the traditionalist government policy-maker paradigm. |
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+Newman ‘11: (Saul, associate professor in the Department of Government in the School of Public Affairs at American University in Washington, DC, “Postanarchism: a politics of anti-politics” (October 2011), Journal of Political Ideologies, vol. 16 no. 3); AB |
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+At the same time, this aporetic moment of tension central to classical anarchism generates new and productive articulations of politics and ethics. The disjunction between politics and anti-politics is what might be called an ‘inclusive’ disjunction: a compound in which one proposition is true only if its opposing proposition is also true. Politics, at least in a radical, emancipatory sense, has only a consistent identity if an anti-political, indeed utopian, dimension is also present—otherwise it remains caught within existing political frameworks and imaginaries. Conversely, anti-politics only makes sense if it takes seriously the tasks of politics—building, constructing, organizing, fighting, making collective decisions and so on—where questions of power and exclusion inevitably emerge. However, this proximity to power does not invalidate anarchism; rather, it leads to a greater sensitivity to the dangers of power and the need to invent, as mentioned before, new micro-political practices of freedom through which power is subjected to an ongoing ethical interrogation. Where the political pole imposes certain limits, the anti-political pole, by contrast, invokes an outside, a movement beyond limits. It is the signification of the infinite, of the limitless horizon of possibilities. This is both the moment of utopia and, in a different sense, the moment of ethics. Anarchism has an important utopian dimension, even if the classical anarchists themselves claimed not to be utopians but materialists and rationalists. Indeed, some utopian element—whether acknowledged or not—is an essential part of any form of radical politics; to oppose the current order, one inevitably invokes an alternative, utopian imagination. However, we should try to formulate a different approach to utopianism here: the importance of imagining an alternative to the current order is not to lay down a precise programme for the future, but rather to provide a point of exteriority as a way of interrogating the limits of this order. As Miguel Abensour puts it: ‘Is it not proper to utopia to propose a new way of proceeding to a displacement of what is and what seems to go without saying in the crushing name of “reality”?’37 We are crushed under the weight of the current order, which tells us that this is our reality, that what we have now is all there is and all there ever will be. Utopia provides an escape from this stifling reality by imagining an alternative to it; it opens up different possibilities, new ‘lines of flight’. Here, we should think about utopia in terms of action in the immediate sense, of creating alternatives within the present, at localized points, rather than waiting for the revolution. Utopia is something that emerges in political struggles themselves.38 Ethics also implies an outside to the existing order, but in a different sense. Ethics, as I understand it here, involves the opening up of the existing political identities, practices, institutions and discourses to an Other which is beyond their terms. Ethics is more than the application of moral and rational norms. It is rather the continual disturbance of the sovereignty of these norms, and the identities and institutions that draw their legitimacy from them, in the name of something that exceeds their grasp. Importantly, then, ethics is what disturbs politics from the outside. This might be understood in the Levinasian sense of ‘anarchy’: ‘Anarchy cannot be sovereign like an arche. It can only disturb the State—but in a radical way, making possible moments of negation without any affirmation.’39 The point is, however, that politics cannot do without anti-politics, and vice versa. The two must go together. There must always be an anti-political outside, a utopian moment of rupture and excess that disturbs the limits of politics. The ethical moment cannot be eclipsed by the political dimension; nor can it be separated from it, as someone like Carl Schmitt maintained.40 If there is to be a concept of the political, it can only be thought through a certain constitutive tension with ethics. At the same time, anti-politics needs to be politically articulated; it needs to be put into action through actual struggles and engagements with different forms of domination. There must be some way of politically measuring the anti-political imaginery, through victories, defeats, and strategic gains and reversals. So while anti-politics points to a transcendence of the current order, it cannot be an escape from it; it must involve an encounter with its limits, and this is where politics comes in. The transcendence of power involves an active engagement with power, not an avoidance of it; the realization of freedom requires an ongoing elaboration of new practices of freedom within the context of power relations. |