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Title: Abyss
Author: L’Encyclopedie des Nuisances
Date: 1986
Language: en
Topics: environment, green, nuclear
Source: Retrieved on 11 December 2010 from http://libcom.org/library/abyss-encyclopedie-nuisances-1986][libcom.org]] and [[http://www.notbored.org/abyss.html
Notes: Author unknown. First published in L’Encyclopedie des Nuisances No. 8, France, August 1986. Translated from the French by Donald Nicholson-Smith, 1989.

L’Encyclopedie des Nuisances

Abyss

A bottomless chasm, or at any rate one that cannot be plumbed, we call

an abyss. What of the gulf into which this society of dispossession is

plunging before our very eyes? That there may be no end to this descent,

or that it may end only with the self-destruction of the human race —

these are, of course, mere hypotheses, much like the famous “China

syndrome” itself. The crushing presence of such a possibility, however,

already sits in judgment over all human actions and governs the

construction of the various “safety barriers” whereby a world at war

with its own power hopes to avoid a terrifying end by surviving in an

endless terror. The real question is therefore: How many Chernobyls will

be needed before the truth of the old slogan “Revolution or death!” is

recognized as the last word of the scientific thought of this century?

That the demand for life itself has now become a revolutionary programme

is demonstrated, at least negatively, by the following fact: carried

farther and farther into madness by the necessities of their dominance,

those social forces that would once have been described as conservative

are no longer concerned even with the conservation of the biological

bases for the survival of the species. Quite the opposite, because they

are in fact bent on the methodical destruction of those bases. The

dimensions of the gulf that they are digging for us are forever being

calculated and recalculated, right down to the likely speed of our

descent into it, right down to the bottom line — which is, in the event,

the lifespan of cesium or plutonium. For this society is mad in

Chesterton’s sense: it has lost everything except its reason —

everything except that abstract rationality of the commodity that is its

ultimate raison d’etre, and the one that has outlasted all the others.

No doubt one could find other ruling classes in history which, having

lost all historical perspective beyond that of their own survival, sank

into a suicidal irresponsibility; but never in the past has a ruling

class been able to press such vast means into service of such a total

contempt for life.

When nihilism in power manifests itself into the ravages of those

state-owned Dadaists who scatter their geometrical rubbish over what

remains of the city like so many territorial markers of bureaucratic

abstraction, it suffices to note that all decadence is not equal even

from a strictly aesthetic point of view. [Trans: an allusion to various

modernist nonentities whose ‘works of art’ have recently been imposed on

the historic center of Paris.] But when this nihilism threatens to

assume cosmic proportions in the shape of a “Star Wars” programme, it

must be conceded that, albeit without abandoning the mode of farce, it

has every prospect of extending the range of the macabre. Alongside such

a project the apocalyptic fantasies of a Sade seem like the product of a

distinctly timorous imagination. According to some experts, however,

this system of automated apocalypse cannot claim complete infallibility

because it cannot be properly tested under “lifelike” conditions. Such,

at any rate, is the chief objection of one pundit who, in view of his

contribution to the computerization of the Vietnam War, must be ajudged

a thoroughly qualified connoisseur of high-tech extermination: we are

speaking of David Lorge Parnas, author of “Software Aspects of Strategic

Defense Systems” (Communications of the Association for Computing

Machinery, December 1985). French experts, meanwhile, estimate that in

order to be able to rely blindly on a system of this kind, “We must be

certain of having, in perfect working order, a logical base of more than

ten million commands working in real time on a set of machines able

overall to carry out a trillion operations per second; this raises the

problem of the speed of political decision-making and the achievement of

consensus” (Le Monde, 11 June 1986). But no doubt the promoters of the

Strategic Defense Initiative (SDI) will ignore such quibbles and rely

instead on a procedure whose rigor was borne out by an official report

on the in-flight explosion of the space shuttle Challenger on 28 January

1986: having been informed nearly nine years earlier about “bad design”

in the part that proved to be at the root of the accident, the heads of

NASA, along with the directors of the subcontracting firm involved,

“first of all refused to address the problem, then refused to apply a

proposed solution, and finally treated the problem as an acceptable

risk” (Le Monde, 11 June 1986). Naturally, all risks are acceptable when

things are so arranged that those who take them have no choice in the

matter.

It is just such an impeccably “realistic” approach on the part of our

bureaucratic managers (who in this case happened to be American) — an

approach democratically seconded by their scrupulously honest suppliers

— that has allowed them in any number of spheres to carry out in-vivo

experiments of a kind that they have not as yet conducted in the context

of their research on catastrophes (in the context, as it were, of their

catastrophic science). Admittedly, no matter how strong one’s attachment

to the truth, in the event of an all-out nuclear war waged by machines,

the distinction between truth and error — between an “appropriate”

strike and an accidental one — is liable to have a distinctly evanescent

quality. And with whom exactly, thereafter, shall we be able to share

the irony of history’s “Nothing is true, so everything is allowed”?

In the light of such oppressive realities, it needs to be remembered how

much scientific thought has in common with gardening in a graveyard:

there may be a few flowers, but they are rooted in death and decay. We

have told elsewhere (to remain for a moment in the vegetable kingdom)

how the wise men could not see the vanished forest for the trees of

their abstract hypotheses about that forest (see Encyclopedie des

Nuisances, s.v. “Abetissement”). The devotion with which these sages

prune their hypothetical trees clearly shows that they are ready to

sacrifice all the real forests — and all real life — in order to perfect

their knowledge of the deserts of abstraction. The religion of science,

just like more traditional religions, has its own priests, martyrs,

fanatics and visionaries (see Encyclopedie des Nuisances, s.v.

“Abnegation”). Yet no matter how impartial this religion claims to be,

nothing can prevent it from serving a social order that, though

doubtless governed by more immediate interests, is working vigorously

everywhere to create the very conditions — the very experimental tabula

rasa — that it itself so urgently requires for its calculations and

operations. However lofty science’s ideals and ambitions, however worthy

its scruples, it cannot but recognize its earthly realization in the

profane practice of the forces of social domination: it thus treats

every new folly as just one more route to Reason, as a test from which

faith will emerge strengthened — for each new disaster serves to justify

the intervention of the specialists who are alone able to interpret and

understand it. The true reign of Science will begin once human

existence, that tiresome source of error, has at last been reduced to

nothing; after all, catastrophes only underscore the fundamental

unreliability of humanity and its whims...

We may fairly say of the present organization of society that, no matter

what angle it is viewed from, it simply cannot afford life. For one

thing, it is generally admitted that all the basic necessities of life,

whether the life of trees or the life of human beings, are far beyond

the means of our economic system. A lifestyle that in the past would

have seemed simple, not to say ascetic, is an unheard-of-luxury today,

in a world where simply to breathe fresh air and to enjoy peace and

quiet is practically impossible anywhere. At the same time — and

certainly more importantly — the technical means that this society has

chosen to develop are those that enable it to dispense more and more

thoroughly with living activity and individual initiative (and hence

with those practical skills that once underpinned the proletarian

project). It does without them so easily already, in fact, that it

cannot see the need for them at all: the production of robots is

naturally (or, rather, unnaturally) accompanied by the development of an

environment suitable only for robots. The contaminated areas where

robots best prove their usefulness bear witness, meanwhile, to our

superfluity. One thinks of a remark made by an early atomic scientist:

“Energy derived from nuclear fission is in the long run incompatible

with the human race.” Everything suggests, however, that the

powers-that-be took the nuclear option for this very reason, as part of

their war against life and history.

At Chernobyl, in the Ukraine, the ideology of progress has just reached

its disintegration point. People more knowledgeable than us will no

doubt pinpoint the technical causes of the disaster. So far as we are

concerned, Chernobyl’s fallout (in all senses of the word) tells us all

we need to know about what happened, and enables us to put this event in

its proper historical context without much difficulty. The fact that it

occurred in a country where the ideology of progress is considerably

more rampant (to put it mildly) than progress itself cannot obscure its

universal significance: here for the whole world to see, lit up with

terrible clarity, was all that remained of “enlightenment.” All the

glitter was gone and total darkness prevailed. Here, distilled, was the

end-product of a mode of production, the practical form of a mortal

truth: the truth that we have no choice but to suffer such an unnatural

catastrophe without understanding it, just as its preconditions have

been created in ignorance, and above all that we must accept our

complete inability to learn any lesson whatsoever from it. After the

Lisbon earthquake of 1755, Voltaire — the ever prudent Voltaire — came

to doubt divine providence and its benefits: “We must face the fact that

evil exists on earth,” he concluded. After a disaster like Chernobyl,

the new theodicy of technological progress appears to all in the shape

of a dark fatality, a dispenser of insidious, ineluctable evils that can

only be conjured away by the incantations of a priestly caste of experts

(see Encyclopedie des Nuisances, s.v.“Abracadabra”). The sometime

difference between history and nature — namely, that we make the one and

not the other — has been abolished by the reign of dispossession in the

context of one and the same rout of humanity. Our pro-nuclear leaders

dub this dispossession “consensus” — while their consensus of lies and

prevarications passes for mastery. But the order that reigns over these

ruins did not govern their production.

The Ukrainian disaster was followed by a veritable bacchanale of

unreason wherein not a sober voice was to be heard. For more than a

month, as the winds from Chernobyl continued to blow, power’s experts,

who in France regretted having upset us at first by saying nothing, now

undertook to reassure us by saying anything at all. Flanked by their

communications people, they put on a show that defied parody. It is

hardly possible to caricature traits that one would be hard put to

portray in their simple objectivity. All of a sudden, it seemed that the

only thing that mattered was to inform us. How many curies, how many

becquerels, were now thrust upon us in order to satisfy our hunger and

thirst for knowledge! Not a day would pass without the authorities

producing figures purporting to show that the (formerly nonexistent)

radioactivity level had dropped considerably and was now

“insignificant.” They also worried about how difficult it probably was

for us to calculate our chances of survival in so many different units

of measurement, and suggested “standardizing the definition of the level

at which radioactivity begins to present a threat to human beings” — in

other words, pushing that danger level high enough to spare us all those

endless calculations. On 13 May [1986] one government minister forbade

the sale of becquerel-heavy spinach, hastening to make it clear that his

concern was more of a dietetic kind than anything else, because one

would have had to “eat two tons of this spinach within a few weeks in

order to reach the point beyond which medical consultation might need to

be considered.” How fortunate that we don’t eat spinach by the ton —

otherwise the point beyond which the nuclear power industry becomes a

menace might need to be considered! One creative advisor, eager to

“convince the French people that we had no wish to lie to them,”

suggested that the Prime Minister appear on television eating salad. Was

this another way of saying that there would be nothing but becquerels —

but that there would be plenty for everyone? Quite likely so, because

the proposal was rejected: no doubt even the government realized that we

needed no information about something so obvious. If we are not often

reminded of truths so self-evident that they may be grasped without

benefit of supporting facts and figures, and confirmed without using any

special equipment, it may well be because (in Custine’s words) “Humanity

is quite willing to let itself be scorned and ridiculed, but it is quite

unwilling to let it be said in explicit terms that it is being scorned

and ridiculed. Violated in fact, it finds refuge in mere words” (La

Russie en 1839). Most French people knew full well on this occasion that

they were being scorned and ridiculed; indeed in their great majority

they told the pollsters so in as many words. But they wanted to be

“informed,” to “find refuge in mere words,” to use words to preserve

what the facts had already obliterated. Once more political illusion

came to the rescue; once more the individual was content to be, as Marx

put it, “an imaginary member of a fictitious sovereignty.” As for those

leftist academics who saw this as a chance to bemoan “the old ideal of

the responsible citizen abdicating in the face of the reality of the

television viewer” (Le Monde diplomatique, June 1986), did it not occur

to these nincompoops that the latter is merely a perfected version of

the former?

The glut of “information” that besieges us creates a sort of white noise

causing everything to be quickly forgotten (see Encyclopedie des

Nuisances, s.v.“Abasourdir”). In the case we are considering, for

example, the only truly informative item, the only piece of news worth

thinking about, was naturally bound to disappear from our awareness

along with the vast mass of nonsense in which it was buried. The item in

question was the fact that the people who have opened up the abyss so

clearly revealed at Chernobyl are actively pushing us towards its brink.

But what chance is there of finding people courageous enough to confront

this truth head-on in a country so degenerate that it mounts a sort of

state funeral for a media-mad clown like Coluche? It would nonetheless

be fatuous and puerile to explain the general passivity by blaming some

kind of “conspiracy” for suddenly depriving honest citizens of their

powers of discrimination, for the pro-nuclearites make no secret of the

fact that they have made an irreversible decision to follow nobody’s

judgment but their own. For once, moreover, their self-assurance is

convincing, for for it reposes on the one power they exercise fully, the

power to constrain us — a power, certainly, that they use more

effectively than any control they exert over the diverse ventures (and

adventures) of their technology. Assembled in Tokyo a few days after the

Chernobyl disaster, for example, a group of Western heads of state

declared that “Nuclear power is and always will be, if suitably managed,

a more and more widely used source of energy” (Le Monde diplomatique,

art. cit.). At the beginning of June 1986, in Geneva, Hans Blix

(director of the International Atomic Energy Agency), upped the ante

even further by declaring his complete confidence in the results of the

pro-nuclearite blitzkrieg: “To my mind, atomic energy has reached the

point of no return; it is simply a reality with which we have to live”

(Le Figaro, 3 June 1986). This despotic fatalism of dispossession does

not even bother with the calming reassurances generally given out by the

media hacks, such as the totally spurious claim that certain essential

differences in Western reactors or in their confinement systems make an

accident like Chernobyl impossible in the West.

One member of the US Nuclear Regulatory Commission by the name of James

Asseltine, who came into public view once before, during the “incident”

at Three Mile Island, has recently rather earnestly declared that,

unless other security measures are taken, “we may expect to see a

reactor-core meltdown within the next twenty years with the emission of

as much radioactivity as at Chernobyl, if not more.” Asseltine adds that

US reactors “were not designed for major meltdowns” (AFP, 23 May 1986,

quoted by the World Information Service on Energy (WISE) bulletin, 31

May 1986). So much for “suitably managed” nuclear energy. It is plain

that no extra “safety measures” could change anything in such a “design”

— in fact, they would probably only introduce extra risk factors. The

fact that “state-of-the-art” technology — supposedly standing guard as

we sleep — offers a degree precisely equivalent to that enjoyed by the

Challenger astronauts — the same degree of safety as that guaranteed by

any piece of industrial junk produced under the prevailing conditions of

irresponsibility, corruption, deliberate trickery and waste: the

conditions, in a word, of exploitation. One has only to think of those

“sophisticated” electronic components, allegedly meeting military

standards, which Texas Instruments was obliged to recall at great

expense from missile-guidance systems because of manufacturing defects

that had survived the most Draconian tests. The same parts, of course —

or their clones — are responsible for the “automated” functioning of

nuclear-power plants.

So what we did learn, despite everything from Chernobyl, was that the

managers of this redoubtable energy have eliminated the danger of a

“major” accident from their engineering with exactly the same rigor as

that with which they have eliminated that possibility from the picture

they paint when estimating “costs and benefits” or trying to demonstrate

the “competitiveness of the nuclear option.” At least no one can accuse

the scientific method underpinning the various enterprises of death and

desolation to which this society is so attached of inconsistency: just

as our scientists know everything about a tree in vitro, but nothing

about its disappearance in vivo, all the safety reports on French

nuclear reactors carefully avoid any mention, not only of accidents, but

also of the real conditions that must necessary lead to such accidents.

Consider, for instance, the fact that the development of cracks in the

boilers and pipes of French reactors, which got a certain amount of play

in 1979, had already occurred during experimental simulations. As a

Framatome engineer remarked with a degree of common sense truly

unheard-of among his ilk: “Are we really supposed to believe that this

development of cracks is characteristic of the sample components in

tests but not of those same components once they are in an operational

setting?” One kind of guarantee against such cracks, of course, is

simply to dub them “undercoating faults.” Short of such sheerly magical

thinking, there is a form of logic peculiar to the proponents of nuclear

power according to which, should a serious accident per impossible

occur, it would gravely compromise, after the fact, the accuracy of the

instruments designed to record it and account for it; what point would

be served, therefore — runs this argument — by contemplating the

possibility of events so inaccessible in any case to scientific

measurement? We are nonetheless supposed to be much edified to learn

that “EDF [the French state electricity authority] technicians undergo

training in a mock-up control room where they learn how to respond

instantly to the most unimaginable accidents”? It is certainly

reassuring to know that the unimaginable has been taken into account!

Unfortunately, the imaginable is given short shrift: thus we learn that

in this “practice alert” a computer program “simulates the Three Mile

Island accident in order to teach the technicians in the control room

how to respond to the most bizarre of situations: (Paris Match, 4

October 1985). One does not have to be a genius to tell that there is

one “bizarre situation” that will always be left out of such

simulations: the next one...

All the historical wisdom of this discreetly flawed technocratic

despotism is contained in the celebrated Bonapartist dictum, “Let us

hope it lasts...” But as long as it does last, and as long as

specialists of this stripe continue to exploit and thrall an ignorant

world, they may as well inscribe their banner, as they watch humanity

sinking ingloriously into disaster, with the words attributed to

Napoleon at the crossing of the Berezina: “Look at those toads,” he is

supposed to have said as he contemplated the seething mass of his

soldiers drowning in the river. Despotism’s one and only idea is

contempt for mankind, the idea of mankind dehumanized. This idea is

superior to many another inasmuch as it at least corresponds to a real

fact. In the language of the technonuclear variety of despotism, it has

the following form: “Standard man: a theoretical representation of the

average adult human body (chemical makeup, weight and size of organs)

established by the ICRP as a yardstick in the assessment of maximum

acceptable concentrations of substances in the body” (Dictionaire des

sciences et techniques nucleaires, Commissariat a l’energie atomique,

1975). For the nuclear-bunker experts, then, a human being is merely a

degree of tolerance to a “concentration” of a substance. And — although

the ICRP is referring here to a concentration of radioactivity, it is

worth pointing out that this approach applies equally well to the

concentration of power — a tendency that has been proceeding apace

throughout the history of this century, with the “maximum admissible

level” subject to continual adjustment (upwards, needless to say).

Perhaps the foregoing remarks lack some of the trenchancy that our

readers, including our opponents, have come to expect from us. Perhaps

we have failed fully to convey the violence of the revulsion that these

appalling exercises evoke in us. In point of fact, the trenchancy really

called for here — the required cutting edge, so to speak — would be one

capable of ruthlessly abbreviating the noxious reign of a “Death’s Head

Pellerin” [translator: Director of the French government’s central

department for protection against ionized radiation (SCPRI), and a

leading member of the pro-nuclear lobby who is notorious for his lies

and prevarications]. Nor do we despair of seeing the day when this

madman and his acolytes are as universally detested as a farmer general

on the eve of the French Revolution. Meanwhile, since the activity of

writing is still needed to help bring that day closer, what better

source could we have than the pro-nuclearites’ own words to describe

what their Leviathan’s poison breath is silently bringing forth? Their

contempt for humanity is expressed just as masterfully in their

discourse as it is in the facts themselves, so we may as well offer them

the same tribute here as the one they enjoy in society at large; at

least here we have some prospect of offsetting their eloquence by

injecting a small dose of reality.

Consider the following account, offered by a mildly apologetic

journalist, of a conference in Geneva, in early June 1986 (attended by

some “two thousand proponents of nuclear power from twenty-eight

countries”):

“The participants here are first and foremost ‘brothers in the faith of

science and technology.’ Indeed, their unshakeable faith and

determination is at times expressed from the podium with a naive candor

which is not always in the best of taste. Hans Blix, for example [...]

declared unhesitatingly that ‘Chernobyl has not caused any more deaths

than a notorious football match in Heysel about a year ago.’ Blix then

proceeded to berate the press for publishing ‘provocative headlines’

about Chernobyl, and made the claim that the production of a quantity of

energy equal to that generated at Chernobyl using a coal-fired power

station would give rise to just as many accidental deaths and injuries,

whether on-site in the mines or in the form of pollution-related

cancers. As he spoke, venerable conferences were somewhat shamefacedly

passing around an issue of the Village Voice [translator: that of 13 May

1986] containing a coolheaded but terrifying account of the most serious

pre-Chernobyl nuclear accident, that at Three Mile Island (TMI), near

Harrisburg, Pennsylvania, on 28 march 1979. There are two reasons for

the considerable impact that this issue of the Village Voice has had

here. In the first place, it is very frightening. One article recounts

how — although the TMI accident, unlike that of Chernobyl, claimed no

immediate victims — plants in the vicinity affected by radioactivity

have degenerated and mutated over time, while the incidence of adult and

childhood cancer has increased amongst people living along the path

taken by the escaping radioactivity to a level 700 percent higher than

normal. Secondly, it is significant that these ‘revelations,’ confirmed

only after several earlier scientific studies had produced ambiguous

results, are the outcome of a collaboration between the local population

as a whole, which is by definition ignorant of nuclear matters, and a

number of highly qualified scientists who are not afraid to speak in

ordinary language. This is what is new — and not a few of the

participants here have been shaken up by it. The chief proponent of such

an adjustment is the German Klaus Barthelt, a producer of nuclear

electricity with Kraftwerk Union. According to Barthelt, ‘The

credibility of nuclear experts is on the wane, and our task today is to

find new ways of making ourselves understood.’” (La Croix, 5 June 1986.)

The problem address by these fanatics has thus absolutely nothing to do

with the placing of restraints, however limited, on the appalling

capriciousness of their deadly machinery. On this point, at least, they

are unshakeable. No, the only thing that disturbs whatever they have for

minds is the fact that their hapless victims have the temerity to rebel

against their state of ignorance and demand access to precise knowledge

of what is being inflicted upon them. Such persistence is liable to

compromise the chief advantage enjoyed by nuclear energy as compared

with other power sources such as coal. Despite oil’s efforts to hold its

own, at Maracaibo or elsewhere, radioactivity remains unarguably

superior to the side-effects of all other technologies in that its main

results become tangible only long after the egregious sets of

circumstances that make the front pages of the newspapers. In this

sense, too, radiation is marvelously adapted to the needs of the

spectacle: we talk about it, forget it, then we suffer its effects, and

die from it, in silence. Thus what needs to be concealed — the essential

reality of the phenomenon — is conveniently relegated to a hypothetical

future time, there to dissolve into statistical abstraction in company

with the dangers of smoking and the death toll on the roads. This is

what makes it possible to compare the Chernobyl catastrophe to a

football riot.

Occasionally, however, what we learn about the past can make this future

a little less hypothetical and bring it distinctly closer to our

present. Thus official statements seeking to minimize the deadly

largesse of the winds from Chernobyl made much, all of a sudden, of the

nuclear tests of the early Sixties, and we now learned just how much

those had contributed to the development of such notions as “maximum

admissible concentration” and “acceptable risk.” Going back even further

in time, an AFP dispatch recently brought us some “fresh news” from

1949: “A veil of secrecy has been drawn aside at Spokane (Washington

State) concerning an incident that took place at the Hanford nuclear

power plant on the West Coast of the United States. It has been revealed

that, on that occasion, 5,500 curies of iodine 131 were released into

the atmosphere during experiments conducted in connection with the

manufacture of plutonium for atomic bombs. At the time, contamination

affected both [the states of] Washington and Oregon, though no medical

investigation was ever undertaken. The Three Mile Island (Pennsylvania)

accident in 1979 resulted in the release of only 15 to 30 curies of

radioactivity” (Le Monde, 18 March 1986).

Comparisons serving to relativize what we are now obliged to put up with

by means of appeals to what has successfully been imposed on us in the

past are thus no longer confined to the horrors of pre-nuclear

capitalism; we are now asked to contemplate for the first time — and be

appropriately enlightened by — the ghastly results achieved by the

nuclear-power industry from its lively beginnings on. The Village Voice

article that so rattled the nuclear experts in Geneva does provide us,

fortunately, with a little perspective on the real dimensions of Three

Mile Island’s modest contribution to the contamination of our

atmosphere:

Seven years after the accident, the Bechtel Group subsidiary that has

the $1.2 million contract (plus cost overruns) for the “cleanup” of the

damaged TMI Unit 2 reactor has only managed to remove 36,000 pounds of

highly radioactive material. Since the remaining 308,00 pounds that

could melt down at any minute, thereby contaminating the entire Eastern

seaboard, it is kept in the reactor chamber under twenty feet of

chemically-treated coolant water. Over 600 workers involved in the

cleanup have suffered contamination, even though they are attired in

protective clothing and are not allowed to approach the material [...]

In 1984, TMI’s owners pleaded guilty or no contest in federal district

court to seven criminal charges of falsification of data on leaks of

radioactive material. The company has also admitted the falsity of its

assurances that there was no meltdown during the accident. In fact,

partial meltdown occurred and there is strong evidence that transuranic

elements, including plutonium, escaped into the atmosphere. The company

also admitted that the temperature during the partial meltdown reached

5,100 degrees Fahrenheit. At the time of the accident, a National

Regulatory Commission commissioner stated that if temperatures had

approached 2,100 degrees, it would have been mandatory to evacuate

Harrisburg. (Anya Mayo, “You Wore A Tulip,” The Village Voice, 13 May

1986, p. 29.)

In time, no doubt, we shall get to know practically everything about our

accumulating radioactive past. We may be sure, however — since we depend

for our our information on the very forces that produced that past —

that we shall never learn anything that is not in some sense saleable,

whether from the point of view of the state bureaucracy, or from that of

business interests, or both. Decontamination follows the self-same route

as contamination, and here that route is the madcap pursuit of profit.

“Living with nuclear energy” is merely shorthand — in accordance with

the abstract logic of the commodity — for maximizing the profitability

of that energy, including even the fallout from it. Thus what was

initially characterized as belonging to a qualitative realm of the

catastrophic — as “unmeasurable” and “incalculable” — nevertheless falls

under the sway of market forces just like anything else, and ends up

with its own market niche and proper market value. Even if we live in a

world where all solidity and permanence is liable to evaporate into the

atmosphere, there to disperse like a radioactive cloud, this does not

mean that the resulting noxious fumes are not suspectible of financial

appraisal and subject to contract law. The rebirth of the abstract form

of the commodity from its own ashes, its seeming ability to thus snatch

victory from the jaws of defeat, has in fact nothing Phoenix-like about

it, nor does what takes flight in this dusk have anything in common with

the owl of Minerva. A closer analogy would be with the living dead of

science fiction, for it is as though plain old commercial greed has

died, only to return in mutant form under the effects of all the

“transuranic elements” volatized in the air. For surely all these

numbers, all this talking of costs and benefits and searching for

bureaucratic norms — these waters of pure self-interest icy enough to

cool the melted-down heart of a heartless world and turn a profit on it

— are a macabre travesty of economic calculation.

A mockery, too, are all the techniques and interests that depend — or,

rather, are believed to depend — on realities that have in actuality

already vanished into the abyss that a materialized historical

unconscious — the Mind of a mindless world — is opening up as easily as

radioactivity passes through meters of solid concrete. Never has it been

more apt to compare our society to one of those cartoon characters who

is carried out over a void by the impetus of some wild chase, but only

falls when he looks down and becomes aware of his plight. Society

likewise plunges onward, completely ignoring the fact that its

mechanical existence is underpinned in its every aspect by the sheer

force of illusion. This simple fact was starkly apparent at the May Day

parade in Paris, on a day when, as fate would have it, Death’s Heath

Pellerin and his agency for the protection of scum that serve the French

state once again ought to have us swallow the absurd claim that the

radioactive cloud from Chernobyl had stopped in its tracks on arrival at

the frontier of our proud and fiercely independent country. (Was it

perchance daunted by its own insignificance in the face of France’s

immense homegrown potential for nuclear pollution?) Anybody with half a

brain knew that the nuclear contamination was at that very moment

“imperceptively yet perceptively” blanketing the country. Even supposing

that this fact could somehow be concealed for a few more moments by

those in charge of the management of appearances, there was simply no

way its reality could be prevented from exposing what was indeed

unblushingly perceptible that day in the street as an unreal,

grotesquely irrelevant and utterly doomed absurdity. The sudden warmth

of a spring day offered this nonsense a perfect setting in which to

strut about and puff itself up to gigantic proportions. After all, this

was the Feast of Work, wasn’t it? That it was. And history, one might

say, had no qualms about “celebrating” it, what with the uncontrollable

products of work’s alienation — none the less dangerous for being

disseminated in the upper atmosphere — floating above these relics of

the trade-union movement. One wing of these leftover had taken the

vulgarity of its self-parody so far as to substitute a boat trip on the

Seine for the inevitable street parade of yore, while the more

conservative section remained loyal to the tried and true vulgarity of

Stalinism. Meanwhile, thanks to a nice twist of the dialectic, it was

leisure rather than work that was being fittingly hailed by the grimy

pall that overlay these doings; one could not help but wonder how much

of this pea soup was due to “normal” car-borne pollution, how much to

the heat — and how much to more exotic “transuranic” factors. At all

events, in this city that had once been Paris — not that Paris’s famous

elegance means much to us, but this was nevertheless a place where both

rich and poor, each after their own fashion, had once been able to

pursue their tastes and enjoy themselves — in this city, then, there now

reigned an unbuttoned, seaside-like mood, blending natives and tourists

in a socially promoted exhibitionism where bodies and clothes, people

and commodities all bespoke nothing but a cruel absence of pleasure — an

absence, moreover, which itself bore a price tag. But to linger on such

abominations would necessitate a complaisance in the sordid and the

heartsickening worthy of the repellant Celine.

Had a literary allusion been called for, one might have been forgiven,

in that subtly doom-laden atmosphere, for thinking rather of Edgar Allan

Poe’s “Masque of the Red Death.” This society’s festivities had nothing

of princely refinement about them, it is true, nor did Death appear

amidst the revelers under such openly horrifying hues as in the Poe

story, yet the uninvited participation of Chernobyl in the day’s

jollifications undoubtedly foreshadowed even more terrible catastrophes

to come. “And Darkness and Decay and the Red Death held illimitable

dominion over all.” But it was above all more pressing memories that

came to mind as one contemplated this festival of unhappy consciousness.

The memory of Libertad, for example, on an earlier May Day, denouncing

the illusions of the “unionized working class” and calling for a strike

against “useless gestures” — a call so interestingly similar to

Mallarme’s, as he invited the poet, “on strike against society,” to

“reject all corrupt means that may present themselves to him.” The

memory, too, of everything that the old revolutionary workers’ movement

did in its efforts to deflect the economic course of things and put

whatever had been won under the reign of alienation into the service of

a free life. And most of all the memory — closer to us in time — of

those critical theses and slogans that, as the production of commodities

diverged from human needs and crossed the threshold beyond which

dispossession approaches its finished material form, took the refusal of

work as a basis for the clear formulation of the necessity for conscious

domination of this irrational development — the necessity, in other

words, for revolution:

Material liberation is a precondition of the liberation of human

history, and it can only be judged by that yardstick. Any conception of

a minimum level of development to be reached in one place or another

must depend, precisely, upon the nature of the liberatory project

chosen, and hence upon who has done the choosing — the autonomous masses

or the specialists in power. Those who accept the definition of some

particular group of managers as to what is indispensible may perhaps be

freed from want in respect to the things those managers opt to produce,

but they will certainly never be freed from those managers themselves.

The most modern and unanticipated forms of hierarchy can only be costly

remakes of the old world of passivity, impotence and slavery, no matter

how great the material force that society possesses in the abstract;

such forms can only represent the opposite of mankind’s sovereignty over

its environment and its history [...] The alternative before us does not

consist merely in a choice between real life and a realm of survival

that has nothing to lose but its modernized chains: it also appears

within the realm of survival itself, in the shape of the ever worsening

problems that the masters of mere survival are unable to solve.

(Internationale situationniste, No. 8, January 1963.)

A quarter century ago formulations such as these were denounced, in the

name of realism and moderation, as extremist and irresponsible. With the

benefit of hindsight, however, we see that that same realism and

moderation has led us to extremes far more terrifying in their

irresponsibility than all the revolutionary excesses imputed in advance

to the promoters of a critique that made no concessions. What has been

liberated in the intervening years, except for the arbitrary authority

of the specialists in power? Certainly nothing constrains their ravings

about what they consider indispensible, ie, our perpetual submission to

their whims; and they have undoubtedly freed us from any shortage of

their chief products — namely impotence, historical paralysis and death.

The material force that society possesses in the abstract henceforth

takes the concrete form of an “inscrutable power” that enslaves society

and reveals itself to all as the opposite of mankind’s sovereignty over

its environment and its history. And what have those who wanted to

preserve something of the old culture and the old politics managed to

save? They felt that guaranteed survival was a sufficient demand, but

even that they have failed to obtain. All that remain to them are the

promises of society’s protection agencies — empty promises if ever there

were.

Such a world tends to neutralize irony; it renders even black humor

ineffective, so outrageous is its own absurdity, so dispossessed is it

to answer each of its own horrors with a cure that is worse than the

disease. Dean Swift himself, were he to come back to life, would be hard

put to match the atrocity of the news items that fill the media day

after day. Consider this, for example:

The government in Washington has offered to furnish the Soviets with an

anti-radiation pill to be tested on a range of more or less contaminated

subjects. This pill, whose existence is still classified as a top

secret, is the outcome of research begun in the United States in 1981 on

behalf of the Pentagon, which wants to find a chemical shield against

radioactivity for use in the event of nuclear war. Experiments carried

out at the Walter Reed Army Institute in Washington led to the

production, in 1985, of a prototype product named WR2721, which could be

administered via intramuscular injection. WR2721 was reportedly capable

of increasing resistance to the effects of radiation by a factor of 3 or

4. There was one serious contra-indication, however: the destruction of

nerve cells. The Pentagon then invested further colossal sums in an

attempt to improve the product. In view of the probable difficulty of

injecting oneself in the midst of battle, or during nuclear explosions,

the Pentagon was especially eager to find a substance that could be

administered in some other form, as a capsule, tablet or pill. Since

early 1986, in fact, Walter Reed’s specialists have been testing a

version of WR2721 in pill form, designed for the use of the military and

of anyone working in a nuclear plant. The drug is particularly

appropriate for the safety personnel at nuclear plants, who are the most

at risk of exposure in case of accident. To date, the American

scientists have had to restrict their testing to animals, however,

because no sufficiently serious accidents have as yet occurred in

American nuclear plants. — VDS, 15–21, March 1986

Note that the destruction of nerve cells is still provisionally

considered a “contra-indication.” On the other hand, one assumes that

the more in-depth research that will become possible as nuclear

accidents proliferate will bring out all the benefits to be derived from

WR2721. This will doubtless be greatly reassuring, in the first place,

to “safety personnel,” who, as is well known, tend to be rather nervous,

and hence prone to “human error.” It will also be of much comfort to the

public at large, who, at the moment, must rely on less radical

chemistries to cope with their anxiety (see Encyclopedie des Nuisances,

s.v.“Ablation”). They will at least be forearmed against the “malaises

experienced by certain population groups in Eastern Europe, living

thousands of kilometres from Chernobyl,” who, in the expert opinion of

Professor Tubiana — a piece of shit who deserves to be more notorious

than he is — “display all the characteristic signs of psychosomatic

disorder” (VSD art. cit). In the meantime, all citizens would do well,

one imagines, to take their inspiration from the model calm displayed by

certain cesium-laden sheep in the English West Country.

Leaving Fischer Farm, we drove the length of Valley Road down to

historic Goldsboro. The TMI sirens go off frequently, and when there’s a

problem out on the island, people in Goldsboro can hear the personnel

shouting back and forth on loudspeakers. With much of the population

either moving away or dying, Goldsboro feels like [a] cluster of hovels

[...] at the mercy of inscrutable powers (Mayo, Village Voice, art. cit.

p. 30).

These “inscrutable powers,” at whose mercy we all find ourselves, can of

course only be our own material strength, sequestrated by the unreason

of the State and turned against life to buttress an order that nobody

wants, but to which everybody must resign themselves. The absurdity of

this order is by now so much taken for granted that it is an easy matter

to pile on yet more absurdity, no matter what the cost may be; and

justifying such proceedings in advance on “scientific” grounds presents

no serious problem at all. In his own age, [Jonathan] Swift was able

with confidence to advance the hypothesis that a man would have rather

few spectators were he to offer to demonstrate, for threepence, how he

could thrust a red-hot sword into a powder keg without its catching

fire. Here we have a convenient gauge of the great strides made by

unreason in less than three centuries, for today the French electricity

authority (EDF) can draw crowds of spectators — and convinced spectators

at that — with its miracle-working patter. Perhaps, if Swift’s time had

not been so simple-minded, superstitious and resistant to change, his

contemporaries would have immediately seen the sense in what has

elsewhere been called “tuyere-style thinking” (see La nuclearisation du

monde, Paris: Editions Gerard Lebovici, 1986). For example: (a) It is

unscientific to talk of things one knows nothing about, and furthermore

nobody who ever happened to be within thirty meters of an exploding

powderkeg has ever said anything about it. (b) Playing on the word

“powder” serves to evoke the age-old fear of battle, whereas in this

case no cannons are present. (c) For any individual who keeps at least

1200 meters away, the auditory impact of this explosion will not differ

significantly from that of a medium-sized fireworks display. (d) AIDS is

a bigger killer. And people still drink and smoke, don’t they? (e) The

modern spectator handles neither gunpowder nor swords; his world is one

of plastic and ballot boxes. The socially responsible thing to do, when

it comes to matters of which the ordinary citizen is completely

ignorant, is to leave all decisions to those properly qualified (and

paid) to make them. (f) You have to learn to live with gunpowder. (g)

Practical human error must not be allowed to detract from the superhuman

beauty of the principle. (h) The envious may carp, but there’s no

denying threepence is a damned hard price to beat.

Nuclear madness represents the “maximum acceptable level” of class

power; as such, it is a pathological development that may at first have

seemed reasonable and tolerable enough to those who found nothing

particularly shocking about the “normal state” of that power.

Eventually, however — here as elsewhere — even the nature of “normality”

itself has been forgotten, making the acceptance of the malady’s

mutations (and their scientific investigation) that much easier.

Nuclearization has in any case merely afforded an avenue of expression

to the inherent self-destructiveness of a world carried along by the

irresistible impetus of its accumulated power, and that power has thus

been turned back in all its explosive violence against the very bases of

its own existence, as though to deprive any prospective tendency toward

revolutionary transcendence of all the purchase it would also inevitably

need on those same foundations. The highly technical tenor of their

discourse notwithstanding, the midwives of nuclear power’s despotism —

the midwives, that is, of a historical monster — are really saying

nothing different from what Agrippina said when she learned from a

soothsayer that Nero would becomes Emperor, but that he would also kill

his mother: “Let him kill me — but let him reign!”

Consider the fact that EDF’s propagandists, truly “electrified” by

Chernobyl, were able in triumphant ones to cite the report of a

so-called Institute for Nuclear Protection and Safety (IPSN) which

describes the measures “taken in order to reduce the effects of the

accident”:

According to the IPSN, ‘the contaminated land is being covered with a

neutralizing film to prevent the radioactive dust from making its way

into the soil. Two or three hectares are said to be treated in this way

daily.’ In the vicinity of the plant, the earth has been frozen by

injecting it with liquid nitrogen, so as to obviate any possible

contamination of underground water reserves through the filtering down

of radioactive water.’ The nearby river, meanwhile, ‘has had its banks

reinforced and raised to prevent its pollution by rainwater running off

the contaminated land around the plant.’ As for the roofs of buildings,

the IPSN believes that they ‘will be treated by a special (liquid-gas)

method to stop rain from washing radioactivity off them.’ All in all, in

the estimation of the IPSN’s experts, ‘it seems probable that the

Soviets have succeeded in avoiding any major and rapid pollution of

water sources via the subsoil.’ And they conclude: ‘At all events, one

cannot but be very impressed by the scope of the safeguards that have

apparently been set up.’” — Supplement to La Vie Electrique, May 1986.

Clearly perceptible here is the elation that fills these would-be

monopolistic controllers of survival when they glimpse a time coming

when they will at last be able to exercise complete power, when their

“protection” will be unquestioningly accepted as indispensible. Their

encomiums to those other “heroes of safety” doing battle on the Eastern

front are suitably epic, august and virile in tone, but one senses that

the authors are chafing at the bit for a chance to show off their own

prowess.

Indeed, the arms destined for use in the campaigns to come are already

being polished up, to the accompaniment of much stamping of

anticontamination boots, as we prepare, having sown the wind of risk, to

reap the whirlwind of disaster.

Isere has just been designated a high-risk department by Alain Carrignon

and Haroun Tazieff. Yesterday afternoon, the reception rooms of Grenoble

police headquarters witnessed the inauguration of the “Bhopal Group,”

cornerstone of the policy of the new Minister for the Environment (who

is also President of the Isere General Council and Mayor of Grenoble).

On the face of it, no more appropriate choice could have been made. The

population of this department, just under a million, will by the end of

the year be playing host to almost 10 percent of France’s nuclear power

industry, yet in no other metropolitan area but that of Grenoble can one

find 400,000 people overshadowed by such a vast quantity of water: one

thousand million cubic meters are contained by the dams closest to the

city. Meanwhile, three of France’s fifteen most dangerous chemical

plants are also to be found on the outskirts of Grenoble. Nor can nature

be left out of the picture: to get out of the city, which is only 200

meters above sea level. one must pass through a gorge with walls 3,000

meters high, whole sections of which periodically collapse. Last but not

least, a seismic fault runs beneath the most densely populated section

of Isere; it extends in an arc from Swizterland to Provence, and

produces two major shocks per century on average, although it is now

almost a hundred years since any serious seismic activity has occurred —

“yet another reason,” as Tazieff points out, “for anticipating a

devastating earthquake in the near future.” To avert all these potential

disasters, the “Bhopal Group” has chosen to work under the banner: “In

time of peace, prepare for war.” — Liberation, 31 May-1 June 1986.

So it goes for Isere — and for all of us. We are assured that our

mandated powers (which of course we never mandated) are being used to

prevent imminent disasters by preparing us for them (rather, one

supposes, as those same powers were earlier and secretly used to create

the very threat that we now need protection from). Much is made of the

judiciousness of the preventive measures taken — on the model, no doubt,

of the “good judgment” shown in the erection of nuclear power plants

over seismic faults. A system that can justify its existence by evoking

the need for protection from catastrophes of its own making has stolen a

page from George Orwell’s recipe for social control, which was based on

the fear of war with an enemy without. In a society at war with its own

deviated possibilities, a permanent mobilization is called for against

what appears as on omnipresent enemy within, an inscrutable force whose

agents, like so many pyralene transformers, are liable at any moment to

unleash an offensive and release their indestructible toxins. According

to the promoters of the “Bhopal Group,” “the lessons drawn from one

high-risk department, as it is transformed into a model of safety, may

then be applied on a national scale” (ibid). It is not hard to see that

the only purpose of such a model, as “safe” as it might be, is to

habituate people to the idea of performing on command all the large and

small actions demanded by a regime of militarized survival. The only

real utility of all the nuclear evacuation plans and drills is as a

means of gauging and hence of reinforcing people’s docility; the one

real aim is to manipulate that docility and press it into the service of

an ever greater concentration of power.

In the vanguard of this campaign, the pro-nuclear forces, whose task it

is to translate the refusal of history into exact technical realities,

believe that they have found the ultimate weapon for ensuring submission

in the permanent blackmail of their “safety imperatives.” Catastrophe,

meanwhile, has the paradoxical function — albeit logical enough in what

is after all an old-fashioned protection racket — of serving as a

guarantee of seriousness: if the credibility of the nuclear zealots

should ever falter, the spectre of disaster will always be there to back

up their arguments — so long, at any rate, as humanity does not make up

its mind to reconquer the territory of real life and — as an

indispensable part of that project — to evacuate the evacuators. In the

meantime, as pure spectacle of catastrophe, each Chernobyl can meet

other basic needs of bureaucratic capitalism, and advantageously open up

new markets in the tooling of dispossession. Thus, along with sets of

desirable objects designed to fully outfit each happy consumer with a

pseudo-personality, complete with supposedly human qualities, we are now

also offered trendy products for unhappy consumers — a panoply of

state-of-the-art gizmos for detecting, and protecting ourselves from,

those very real properties of today’s world that constitute its own

noxious “personality.” Along similar lines, the French supermarket chain

Mammouth — boldly introducing a style of sales promotion well adapted to

the new conditions — equipped all of its Alsatian outlets with devices

for measuring radioactivity (becquerel scales, so to speak). In the

words of Mammouth’s advertising copy, “While France debates, Mammouth

acts. Be absolutely sure your fruit and vegetables are safe” (Le Monde,

17 May 1986.)

By thus aspiring to resell to us, at retail, that survival on which the

bureaucrats have the ultimate monopoly, such shopkeepers behave as

profiteers always do in times of crisis, and by their cynicism merely

underwrite the status quo. The status quo, in the event, is expressed in

the war-like proclamations of the pro-nuclear terrorists, whose

programme corresponds exactly to Custine’s evocation of “the discipline

of the military camp substituted for the order of the city, and a state

of siege substituted for the normal state of society.” To muster support

for such a programme, its promoters are obliged to make clumsy appeals

to brute necessity, and to pose as the handmaidens of scientific

objectivity. In reality, of course, these clamorous perverters of life

speak only for a power that is utterly indifferent to any human

necessity, and that every day dispenses only those objectives truths

that accord with the lies of the moment. The French state, which has

gone further along the path of nuclear insanity than any other — though

it has not yet achieved the “energy independence” that it seeks — has

certainly achieved complete independence from society (and, in the

process, rendered society for its part more dependent). This creation of

dependence on the state, planned in an authoritarian manner on the bases

of unreality and the Big Lie, calls for a concentration of the means of

conditioning comparable to the concentration required by the planning

process itself. In other words, it is the same hierarchical networks, of

which the electorate has not only no control but also no knowledge, that

both impose the vital decisions and generate the propaganda that is then

obediently disseminated by the media. For example, the moderately

critical members of a scientists’ Group for Information on Nuclear

Energy (GSIEN) have shown that one investigator, Arvonny — who was so

resourceful when facts needed to be denied (see Encyclopedie des

Nuisances, s.v. “Abetissement”) — was quite content to fill the need for

“fresh data” by simply quoting the communiques issued by the EDF [the

French state electricity authority] itself for the edification of

readers themselves apparently conceived of as “models of safety.”

Arvonny did not pretend to have done any original research — he did not

even bother to examine the blatant internal contradictions of other EDF

documents. We have elsewhere examined the similar way in which the

periodical appearance in the press of articles hailing the marvels of

agribusiness is entirely a function of the propaganda-mongering of the

French National Institute of Agronomic Research (see Encyclopedie des

Nuisances, s.v. Abat-faim).

Indoctrination of this kind, so poorly disguised as information, always

bears the clear marks of its origin. Uncontrollable statistics and

unverifiable figures are solemnly trotted out, for all the world as

though the whole of society consisted of docile civil servants; and

incomprehensible acronyms — designating obscure but presumably powerful

institutions — are pompously produced one after the other, like the

litanies of a self-satisfied cleric who can be sure of awed respect from

his audience. Marx observed that bureaucrats were the Jesuits of the

State. Those [bureaucrats] of today are true to the tradition of their

predecessors (perinde ac cadaver), but they have lost all their means of

persuasion. Not that the current age is ill-disposed in this regard, but

the most insouciant credulousness must have pause in face of the sheer

stodginess of the mental fare our bureaucrats have to offer. In any

case, figures are not something one believes in: one either knows them

to be true, or not. What this means in this instance is that we must

resign ourselves to the impossibility of any verification.

(Interestingly, no sooner are we tempted to conclude from such

statistical data that they indicate a more dangerous state of affairs

then our informants hasten to tell us that they are false or

“insignificant.”) In the unilateral discourse of the proprietors of

technology, figures are a crude replacement for any recourse to

rationality, a recourse that has in fact become impossible as a result

of the detachment of this discourse from all historical reality. The

mind-numbing piling up of statistics is also supposed to persuade the

impotent spectator that what he or she cannot understand is understood

perfectly by others — who are as at home amidst these numbers as fishes

are in the sea (a sea warmed, perhaps, by the radioactive effluent of a

nuclear power station?). Thus the “precision” of quantification is

supposed to come to the rescue of a bureaucratic language that is

otherwise notoriously ill-equipped to sustain any appearance of logic. A

tic-like feature of all the pseudo-reasonings of spectacular power is

the use of expressions such as “moreover” and “furthermore” as devices

for implying logical relationship, where none exists, between an element

A and another, B, whose only real connection with B is the fact that it

has been chosen from an infinite number of possibilities to be thus

brought into conjunction with it. When it comes to the quantative

description of the public nuisance known as radiation, however, the

basic verbal tic is the use of the phrase “which is equivalent to.” The

trick here, though less subtle, is reminiscent of the deception involved

in the paradox of Achilles and the tortoise: the overall cumulative

process is ignored in favor of the particular instant under

consideration, and a mean is then extrapolated from this isolated

segment of reality. In this way, dangerous trends are as effectively

abolished as the forward movement of Achilles. A remarkably pertinent

response to such sophistry, both in form and in substance, was the

following observation published in the Corsican autonomist paper Arriti

on 20 June 1986, at a time when Corsica was ingesting what Death’s Head

Pellerin had authoritatively pronounced to be a “normal” becquerel

level: “Let’s kicks the daylights out of one of those experts for one

hour exactly. If he complains, we’ll explain to him that, since there

are 8,760 hours in a year, if he spreads our beating out over that many

hours, he will hardly feel a thing.” (Quoted in Liberation, 8 July

1986.)

In sharp contrast to this straightforward suggestion — which sets an

excellent example for any future programme of action for

“nonspecialists” — it has fallen to the Stalinists (as well it should)

to out-Herod Herod in this sphere: in their eager anticipation of a

perfected nuclear totalitarianism, the vision of which for them no doubt

represents a kind of glorious home-coming, the Communists

unintentionally expose the truth behind all the Big Lie’s conjuring

tricks with numbers. Thus, L’Humanite, attempting to succuor “Professor

Pellerin and the other experts who stand alone against the onslaughts of

the anti-nuclear faction and all those who would like to go back to the

days of the Cold War,” summed up the stance of their

materialism-of-disintegration towards Chernobyl’s contribution to

ambient radiation as follows: “One hundred times nothing, or four

hundred times nothing, is still nothing.” Any and all rational argument

having been transcended, what is also manifestly being set at naught

here, because nobody has the means to invest it with value, is reality

itself; all that remains is the majestic progress of abstraction, and

there is no countervailing force to challenge it. What better measure

could we have than this zero, which annihilates all contradictions, for

the future of a society that so resolutely turns its face towards

nothingness. We shall leave it to others to decide whether

post-Chernobyl Stalinism may also expect that the plant mutations so

rigorously promoted in the Ukraine will realize Lysenko’s genetic dreams

— and that the results of a science gone mad will thus furnish an a

posteriori justification for that earlier application to science of an

ideology gone mad. For our part, we are sufficiently persuaded by the

inevitable spread of the effects of State-generated dementia by the

words of one Soviet television announcer, who asserted that “it is

impossible to prevent the progress of knowledge,” adding — as though

wishing to carry the ideological inversion of reality into the realm of

out-and-out caricature — that the “peaceful atom must continue to serve

humanity” (Liberation, 2 June 1986). The peaceful atom, in short, must

serve humanity even if humanity has to be wiped out in the process...

In the future, the nuclearites will not need to be forever preparing

their next accident, for they have by now accumulated a vast inventory

of as-of-yet undiscovered disasters. Instead, they will be able to focus

all their efforts on the job of helping us catch up with our backlog of

ignorance, while at the same time learning to live with their immense

capacity to impose such backwardness upon us. The very forces of which

we have lost control are thus revealed to us in their most baleful form,

while their mouthpieces invite us to believe that they can measure and

manage these forces with perfect ease. “Ah yes, bequerels — well, we

have released some everywhere, more or less.” The spokesmen who inform

us of these things even assume a tone of scientific satisfaction as they

do. All the same, the continued lying with statistics, which is designed

to reassure us on the specialists’ high degree of competence, and on the

“model of safety” which that competence guarantees, is beginning to have

an effect opposite to the one intended. Once it is known that a danger

exists, figures giving no concrete notion of what exactly is to be

feared encourage one to fear only the worst. Quantitative illusions thus

eventually have a backlash effect that irreversibly shatters the

“confidence” carefully built up on a foundation of ignorance of what is

involved. If the nuclearites have suddenly evinced great concern about

the ignorance of the populace, it is because they see that this

ignorance is on the point of turning into suspicion. It no longer

suffices to bury past and future under an avalanche of figures, because

their increasingly transparent falsehoods and increasingly obvious

impotence disclose a present that is itself a bottomless chasm, an

unknowable “black hole” — something perhaps like that “great black hole

you never come back out of” evoked in Ubu’s beloved “Debraining Song.”

It has thus recently been discovered that the public is in need of “new

aids to understanding” in this domain. Fortunately these new methods do

not present too great an intellectual challenge. What is called for ,

seemingly, is the “normalization of the definition of thresholds” of

harmfulness, and this is readily achieved by the simple process of

adjusting the thresholds just as often as may be necessary to keep the

harmfulness level at ... zero. A similar approach was used earlier when

the method of counting power-plant mishaps was revised in order to

“reduce” their number. The practice of altering the map to conceal a

pitiful state of affairs on the ground is of course widely and

effectively applied; we have elsewhere drawn attention to the way in

which our “planners of ignorance,” confronted by an alarming resurgence

of illiteracy, simply changed their marking system — scientifically, of

course — so as to produce the desired percentage of passes come exam

time (see Encyclopedie des Nuisances, s.v.“Abecedaire”). Simply another

instance, in short, where the bureaucracy, “being unable, naturally, to

suppress nuisances, seeks to manipulate the perception of them” (see

“Discourse preliminaire,” Encyclopedie des Nuisances, No. 1).

The spread of scepticism cannot be prevented by this kind of subterfuge,

however; one reason being that it is based on a very simple observation,

and one which, unlike claims about numbers of picocuries, millirems and

whatnot, is easy to verify: the observation that the owners of the means

of contamination also monopolize the means of contamination’s detection

and control. If it is true that the soul of bureaucracy is secrecy, a

secrecy “preserved within the bureaucracy itself by means of hierarchy,

and vis-a-vis the outside world by virtue of bureaucracy’s having the

characteristics of a closed corporation,” then the technical content

appropriate to this form is certainly to be found in a nuclearized

domination under whose sway it is not merely the “spiritual essence of

society” which becomes bureaucracy’s private property, but rather

society’s material existence as a whole. The chief result of this

monopolization is that all attempts publicly to establish the truth

about any aspect of reality become treason against the “mystery” of the

bureaucracy. “The suppression of the bureaucracy is only possible if the

general interest effectively becomes [...] the individual’s interest,

and this can only come about if the individual’s interest effectively

becomes the general interest” (Marx). The task of dismantling the

nuclear walls behind which the oppressive forces are massed is the

liberatory task that now subsumes all others, for here the individual’s

interest indeed effectively becomes the general interest. This

Encyclopedia has on occasion come in for criticism to the effect that it

has no “central historical perspective,” or even that it has nothing

really original to contribute. Now, we have no quarrel with those who

recognize that in this unhappy age all kinds of theoretical works are

called for: such research is indeed absolutely necessary in order

continually to hone the critique of all of alienation’s concrete forms.

Defining a “central perspective” of history, however, is one of those

tasks that is accomplished by the facts themselves, and direct

confrontation with these facts is the only way here of steering clear of

pure speculation. Real history has continued to advance with its

(unconscious) bad side foremost, and its results have continued,

paradoxically as ever, to define the consciousness necessary to any

social movement capable of acting effectively against the over-accoutred

negation of life. The building of such a movement is a long-range

project, but at least many of the obstacles that once lay in the path of

endeavours of this kind have now been removed.

The critique of politics, for example, must now presumably be considered

gratuitous, the extraordinary continuity maintained by the state in the

sphere of nuclear policy having put to the last surviving intimations of

difference between the programmes of the political parties. Furthermore,

just as any consistent anti-nuclear movement must situate itself from

the outset beyond parties, and seek to express a unity of particular and

universal, so too it is bound to recognize in its own situation the

basis for a critique of political economy made not by one but by all: in

this way the simple question of the human use of material production,

repressed by all “progressive” ideologies, returns as a question of

vital urgency. Solved, too, en passant, is the old “national question,”

pollution notoriously being no respecter of frontiers. Much the same may

be said of all the false dilemmas nourished by the (largely ideological)

alternative between reform and revolution, for it is now plain that no

change, not even the most limited, can be expected to occur so long as

all those interests that control the social whole are not brought into

question. The “revolutionary action” of the atom has even exploded what

will turn out to have been the last mystification propagated by a

submissive intelligentsia, namely the notion that there is something in

our “democracies” worth defending against the totalitarian peril. For

what remains of our famous “freedoms” — except perhaps the freedom, so

beloved by the intellectuals, to spout nonsense with impunity — now that

the charade of democracy has debouched into nuclear despotism? Custine,

so often cited since the beginning of the Cold War and in support of an

alleged “Russian bureaucratic tradition,” may now be seen, much more

accurately, as the prophet of a Stalinization of the world that has

nothing to do with geography and everything to do with history. In

short, the nuclear question is the social question in its most naked

form — in the essential form down to which it has been stripped in the

last years of a century that once believed itself capable of avoiding it

altogether.

It will no doubt be replied that a movement with a consciousness of this

kind exists nowhere — and in France less than anywhere. It is true that

in West Germany, for example, a government minister called the violent

anti-nuclear demonstrations of May 1986 an attack upon the state, thus

putting his finger on the true nature of the movement — on something, in

fact, that is rarely acknowledged even by the movement’s own

participants. In France, by contrast, the pathetic relics of the ecology

movement have sunk to the level of volunteering to run civil-defense

exercises and lobbying for information about evacuation procedures to be

broadcast via Minitel. Nevertheless, the development of an adequate

response to the ultimatums of alienated history — whether these be

delivered a la Chernobyl or in quite a different form — is already

profoundly real; and this remains true even if at the surface of society

the monopoly of appearances held by power’s dream factories continues to

derail the search for it. The call for truth in the life of society is

liable to be dismissed as the product of a purely ethical or idealistic

stance. In point of fact, however, the eminently practical nature of

such a demand becomes more and more apparent as the toxic effects of

bureaucratic secrecy spread into every last corner of life. As the gulf

widens between the unrealistic monologues of power, on the one hand, and

a realism deprived of legal expression, on the other, lies must be

increasingly detrimental to those who rely on them. It is as though its

long sojourn in oblivion had invested a re-emergent truth with fresh

youthfulness and vigor, and hence with a fresh influence on the course

of things.

Chernobyl also provided an opportunity to re-learn an old lesson, namely

that social truths — and the existence of truth in society — can never

be ensured by theoretical debate, never established by means of

objective knowledge alone, but rather have to be fought for on the

battleground of social existence itself: no specialized point of view —

neither that of nuclear physics nor any other — can claim to be

emancipated from the material bases of a perverted truth, unless it has

allied itself with a social movement that effectively challenges those

bases. In Poland, scientists linked to the underground opposition were

thus able at the time of Chernobyl to get exact information to the

people about this latest expression of Soviet friendship, borne by that

same “East wind” that had hitherto been responsible, in accordance with

leftist meteorology, for dispensing pollution of an exclusively

ideological variety. In France, by contrast, such scientists as were

prepared to break the law of omerta imposed by the pro-nuclearites were

able to reach only the most restricted of audiences. What this shows is

that there do exists specialists, in all sectors, who are ready and

willing to become dissidents, but that practical forces capable of

offering them a sphere of action — and an emancipatory use of their

abilities — are still lacking. Sadly, such forces are likely to continue

to be wanting for some time to come. The issue of dual power, however,

cannot be put on the back burner until the moment of revolutionary

transformation arrives: it is inherent in the very formulation of such a

project, since any exact knowledge of the reality to be transformed is

itself predicated on practical communicational abilities totally

independent of the official media. Our task, in fact, is to help set up

a network of this kind, as a way of federating all those partisans of

the truth who are resolved to plan for the inevitable struggles ahead.

In conclusion, we feel confident in asserting that henceforth this world

can contain only two kinds of seriousness: the seriousness of the

extremists of domination, as obvious as the means at their disposal for

perpetuating it any price — and ours, the proof of whose existence is

supplied, paradoxically, by the scale upon which those same means are

deployed. Between the two lies a gamut of unrealistic attitudes that

are, in the last analysis, of negligible import. On the one hand, then,

is the will to maintain a society of dispossession at whatever cost, and

the attendant conviction, reminiscent of Macbeth’s, that once one is “in

blood stepp’d in so far [...] returning were as tedious as go o’er.” For

our part, in face of the material changes that demonstrate day after day

that there is nothing so bad that it cannot become worse, we want merely

“to keep the door open to all other possibilities of change — first and

foremost, of course, to the primordial hope that the minimum conditions

for the survival of the species may be preserved. The changes we desire

are, of course, the very ones that the dominant society seeks to

obstruct by limiting history, irrevocably, to a broader reproduction of

the past, and limiting the future to the management of the debris of the

present” (“Discours preliminaire,” Encyclopedie des Nuisances, No. 1).