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Title: Interview with Ruta 66 Author: Jaime Gonzalo Date: April 2016 Language: en Topics: interview, music, situationist, postmodernism, Spain Source: Retrieved on 11th May 2021 from https://libcom.org/library/interview-ruta-66-miguel-amor%C3%B3s Notes: A slightly abridged version of this interview, in the original Spanish, was published in Ruta 66, July 2016. See: http://www.jaimegonzalo.com/entrevistas/miquel-amoros-nostalgia-rock-arma-de-lucha/. Translated in September 2016 from an unabridged transcript of an interview with Miguel AmorĂłs conducted by Jaime Gonzalo for Ruta 66. Transcript provided by Miguel AmorĂłs.
He is not an expert on rock music, but he wrote a very revealing
socio-political analysis that rescued rock nâ rollâs revolutionary
dimension from oblivion. A powerful critical voice, well-versed in
anarchism and situationism, under his outward appearance of a
mild-mannered retiree reluctantly relegated to a passive existence
simmers an unquenchable thinker. His ideas help us to understand the
world in which we (do not) live.
Even the dead have to fight for the truth. The protagonist of
Maupassantâs short story, âWas It a Dream?â, goes to the cemetery to
mourn at the grave of his beloved who had died unexpectedly. There, he
witnesses an extraordinary scene. âI saw that all the graves were open,
that all the dead bodies had emerged from them, and that all had effaced
the lies inscribed on the gravestones by their relations, substituting
the truth insteadâŠ. They were all writing at the same time, on the
threshold of their eternal abode, the truth, the terrible and the holy
truth of which everybody was ignorant, or pretended to be ignorant,
while they were alive.â Even greater was the shock of the terrified
widower when he saw that his deceased wife was no exception. On her
tombstone, where he had caused to be engraved, âShe loved, was loved,
and diedâ, now he read, âHaving gone out in the rain one day, in order
to deceive her lover, she caught cold and died.â
It seems that what really bothers us about what we do not accomplish
before we die is no longer the collision with the truth about ourselves,
but rather with the truth about what determines our lives; perhaps
because we are annoyed by just how obvious it is. Many wise voices have
spoken out to tell us this, but one of the most resonant is that of the
historian and essayist, Miguel AmorĂłs (Alcoy, 1949). An avid seeker
after this truth about the situation that they have programmed us to
accept with lies and substitutes for life, his talks and writings
constitute expressions of some of the most stimulating examples of
contemporary Spanish critical thought. The occasion of the publication
of another book by this author has given us an opportunity to enjoy,
question and/or learn from his lucidity.
Jaime Gonzalo, for Ruta 66 [JG]: You converted to anarchism at the age
of 18, at a time when the anarchist movement had been practically
neutralized in the collective memory of Spain, and you founded or
co-founded several anarchist organizations. A risky decision, fraught
with sacrifice, in view of the fact that you lived in Francoâs Spain and
your family had a background in that movement and you knew what fate
might await youâŠ. What are your impressions of this venture, what led
you to make such a decision and what real possibilities did you think
existed at the time that you thought you might take advantage of?
Miguel AmorĂłs [MA]: Damned Wikipedia! I never converted to anything, it
was not a matter of religious faith. I come from a classic working class
family that was traumatized by the years immediately following the war,
a miserable time of repression and poverty. In Alcoy, a city with deep
roots in the anarchist and syndicalist movements, there was not a single
soul committed to the cause of the workers who was not in hiding, in
jail or in exile. Although the figure of my maternal grandfather was
very much present in my familyâs memory, I was never given too many
details. The mentality of the survivor for whom nothing good can come
from remembering the past: that was the limbo in which these matters
resided during my entire adolescence. The road of rebellion arose for me
as a kind of spiritual rash. The prospect that life offered was a good
job, marriage with children, a house with a mortgage, a compact car and
a television, the idiot box. Others have more effectively described this
feeling of internal emptiness and anxiety that one suffers when at the
end of puberty one is pushed to submerge oneself âin the glacial water
of egoistic calculationâ (Marx). I did not want to live the way I was
ordered to live, wallowing in the mud of conventionality and repeating
the vulgar gestures of the philistines. I found the authoritarianism
that seemed to impregnate the anodyne life of my contemporaries
distasteful, and I was even more repelled by its corollary, compulsory
submission. I was curious and unsettled, I was eager to have some fun
and to break things and I also had a strong desire to liveâwhich at that
age has a strong component of sexual desire. Thatâs how it all began.
Anarchism came later, when I went to college and I came up against
âcarrillismoâ, the Spanish Stalinism of the sixties, which was just as
reactionary as its previous republican version. My âconversionâ was not
due to readings on this topic because no such texts existed at the time,
but rather to an instinctive reaction against the opportunism of people
whose vocation was to become manipulative and dictatorial bureaucrats,
and who passed themselves off as the vanguard of the opposition to
Franco.
JG: You paid a high price for the experience, you were sentenced to
prison. What was it like in prison and what did you learn behind bars?
MA: My bad adventures and, why not, my bad reading, led me to prison. My
father told me it was the latter, and by bad reading he meant all of the
reading I had been doing. I was only in âthe slammerâ for a little
while, I donât think I did four months, each in a different prison. None
of them exist today, of course. The former prison in Valencia is now an
office building of the Generalitat and the Alicante prison is now used
for temporary detention of convicted criminals. My family was keeping a
very close watch over me and they did not let me down. I did not learn
much from life in prison, but I did find it diverting. There was a
higher proportion of good people among the ordinary prisoners in the
prison than there was on the outside, and there was a vast number of
stories to hear, true or invented. The worst thing about the experience
was the subsequent consequences. When I was released, there was a file
on me and I was forbidden from entering the University district. I could
not work as a teacher, or have a passport, or even hang out at the gym,
because all of these things required a certificate of âgood conductâ.
Then I burned my bridges. I never looked back.
JG: Recently there have been occasional news reports in the
disinformation media referring to the capture and dismantling of
anarchist cells. It is hard to believe, after the ideological purge
carried out during the 80s with the advent of âdemocracyâ, that there is
still any real anarchism left in Spain, except in the framework of an
excuse to carry out repression. This anarchist path, is it exhausted,
does it make any sense in todayâs world, is it possible to think of a
future anarchism?
MA: These incidents are of course set-ups whose goal is to fabricate a
public enemy that will make it possible to justify the passage of
regressive laws like the gag law, police brutality and law and order
policies. Most of these set-ups were conceived in or near the building
which houses the Department of the Interior of the Generalitat in
Sabadell. The post-Franco parliamentary regime had to eliminate the
libertarian features of the autonomous workers movement that emerged in
the last years of the dictatorship, which had led to the return of a
living corpse, the CNT, which many people clung to as a last resort of
anti-authoritarianism. This anarchist road was historically superseded,
but it did not succumb solely due to its own contradictions but also
because of a policy of industrial restructuring that was very
effectively administered by the PSOE, which turned the factory-based
working class into a museum exhibit. Anarchism as a complete ideology, a
cookbook and a storehouse of clichés, has no future. Anarchism is best
understood as an aspiration to a full life, one that is fraternal and
communitarian, without institutions that escape the control of the
collectivity, where the connections between persons are direct and
egalitarian, not mediated by things. To the extent that social struggles
are oriented towards these goals and use means that do not contradict
them, then anarchism has a future.
JG: When you first became involved with anarchism, the struggle against
Franco was already underway and there was quite a lot of student unrest,
which you discuss in your book, 1968. El año sublime de la acracia
[1968: The Sublime Year of Acracy]. Since democratization, many people
have draped themselves in an alleged anti-Franco past as if it was an
academic degree to be listed on their resumes. How much of that struggle
was myth and mystification?
MA: 1968 was my first year of college, not when I became an anarchist,
at a time when I rejected all authority and no program of demands
satisfied me, either. I felt a kind of existential boiling rage against
the whole status quo, similar to what other people felt. It was a state
of mind that was seizing the youth of the planet and which was bearing
fruit in revolts of another kind. Our revolt had the virtue of nipping
in the bud the first internal attempts at democratization carried out by
the Franco regime, thus forcing it to show its true face with the state
of emergency of 1969. These attempts only came to fruition with the
death of the dictator, since everyone knows that the apparatus of the
dictatorship and the socialist-communist opposition agreed on a
Transition to parliamentarism that was stage-managed from the highest
levels of power, and sealed with a pact of silence and an amnesty that
exonerated the criminals of Francoâs regime. The immense majority of the
new leaders of the âleftâ came from either dissident factions within the
Franco regime, or from the last-minute opposition. Practically all of
them had to improvise an imaginary resume, since almost none of them
could truthfully claim that their political activity extended to the
period before 1975. The so-called âdemocracyâ, which is no more of a
democracy than Podemos, was not forged in the crucible of the streets,
but in the halls of power.
JG: After you were released from prison you went into exile in
Franceâwhat year was that?âand there you made contact with the
situationists. What was known about the situationists at the time in
Spain and how could you obtain their works when you lived on the
Peninsula?
MA: I secretly crossed the border to freedom, with the help of my
brother and a friend, and I took refuge in Paris. That was in April or
May of 1975. For several years before that date, the theoretical impasse
of classical anarchism, as well as the inconsistent and capitulatory
conduct of the leaders of the CNT during the war, who renounced
everything âexcept victoryâ, led me towards the situationist critique, a
modern and coherent view of the class struggle, methodologically
Marxist-Hegelian, but which distilled what was essential from anarchism
and from the artistic vanguards, that is, the liberation of desire and
the subversion of everyday life. The Situationist International
dissolved in 1972, so it was impossible for me to make contact with it.
I did, however, meet Jaime Semprun, who had ephemeral relations with
Eduardo Rothe and Guy Debord in connection with the Portuguese
âCarnationâ Revolution.
JG: A fascinating and enigmatic personality: in Paris you knew Guy
Debord personally and you worked with him. What was he like when the
going got tough? Did he coherently exhibit the intransigence that his
analysis reflected with respect to reality? I mean, just how âauthenticâ
was he, and to what degree did he scorn the temptations of the system he
fought against?
MA: I never knew Debord personally; I only exchanged some letters with
him in 1981 when I was participating in his campaign on behalf of the
liberation of the anarchist prisoners. Then I maintained relations with
him for a couple of years through the mediation of third parties (Jaime
Semprun and Christian Sebastiani). Although it might seem hard to
believe, he was easy to deal with. Problems arose with differences of
opinion. His conversation was very one-track; rather than engaging in a
dialogue, he engaged in a monologue. When it came to women he was
terrible. He allowed himself to be swept away by momentary impressions,
by details, by unexpected separations: One might feel that one was the
crĂšme de la elite revolutionnaire and the next minute one might be
treated like a noxious reactionary. He was the most authentic and most
lucid person of his time, the most artistic of the revolutionaries and
the most revolutionary of the artists. He never made the slightest
concession to the cultural or political circles that he profoundly
despised. He was undoubtedly someone special, generous, impassioned,
sometimes unjust; a strong, unique personality, a genius who always
walked on the wild side, a really free being who of his own free will
broke the cup of life when it had been drained to the dregs.
JG: I have always thought that the ârebelliousâ potential of icons like
Marlon Brando in âThe Wild Oneâ, or the pre-RCA Elvis, and this even
goes for the Counterculture as a whole, amounts to nothing compared with
the subversive charisma of Debord. Was Debordâs revolution the only
genuine âspiritualâ revolution of the 50s and 60s?
MA: Debord was never an icon of anything, he was always engaged in a
continuous war against the society of the spectacle, he was permanently
ensconced in negativity. Even now it is no easy matter to recuperate him
as a spectacular image of lucidity, and the merchants of culture who are
trying to do so are only mutilating Debordâs radicality and
aestheticizing him, without managing to turn out a credible figure.
Debord turned revolution into an art and he did the same thing with his
life. He was someone who led the way in the vanguard of his time, but he
did not embody that vanguard as a whole. His contribution was decisive,
but it was not the only one. We need only think of André Breton, Daniel
Guerin, Simone Weil, Lewis Mumford, Siegfried Krakauer, Murray Bookchin,
Herbert Marcuse, Gunther Anders, Dwight MacDonald, Jaime Semprun,
AgustĂn GarcĂa Calvo, and others.
JG: From exile you saw the consolidation in Spain of the construct of
the Transition, a farce that you had already exposed, with Jaime
Semprun, in 1976 with âThe Manuscript Found in Vitoriaâ. Did you ever
discuss this topic with Debord?
MA: Before the âManuscriptâ, we published âThe Spanish Campaign of the
European Revolutionâ, in which we discussed the workers struggles in the
assemblies and pointed to the possibility that they might develop into a
coordinated system of proletarian councils. The Transition can be
interpreted as an attempt to abort this process that threatened to get
out of control; the Transition was half opposition, with the trade
unionists in the forefront, and half dictatorship, whose public face was
the police. At the time, Debord had a falling out with Jaime and he
prevented the French publisher, Champ Libre, from publishing the
âManuscriptâ, which, as it turned out, was all for the best, because the
pamphlet was published in Spanish and distributed in Spain.
JG: While the constitutional monarchy was being established here, the
PSOE under GonzĂĄlez was created with the stroke of a pen and we were
reminded of that famous saying of Lampedusa concerning this change in
which nothing changed, you persevered in situationist praxis by
collaborating with the journal of critical thought known as the
Encyclopédie des Nuisances, which was in some ways an heir of the
Situationist International. What can you tell us, objectively, about
this journey?
MA: You are talking about two different periods. When I returned from
exile I got involved with a few working class friends in activity in
favor of âProletarian Autonomy and Social Revolutionâ, a very workerist,
libertarian councilist project, halfway between the ICO and the SI
(Informations Correspondance OuvriĂšres and the Situationist
International). The defeat of the strike wave led by the assembly
movement was made possible by the employersâ insistent support for the
legalized trade unions, the activities of the parties, and the
repression unleashed by the authorities, which then commenced their
strategy of tension by infiltrating the extremist organizations to
foment inexplicable attacks like the one at La Scala. The Moncloa
Accords put an end to the revolutionary class struggle in the Spanish
State. In France, a strong anti-nuclear movement arose that could have
become radicalized in contact with the movements of resistance to
industrial restructuring, and, on another level, in contact with the
radical sectors of the Polish (Solidarnosc) and the Russian (SMOT)
workers movements. There is a curious song by the Angelic Upstarts about
this. That was the era of the magazine, LâAssommoir, the book, The
Nuclearization of the World, which I translated into Spanish, and the
third pamphlet of Los Incontrolados. The demands of the anti-nuclear
movement would not go beyond a moratorium on the construction of nuclear
reactors, and this created an opportunity for the green parties. The
environmentalists immediately got involved in politics in order to work
on behalf of a green capitalism and to undermine the protest movements,
and that is what they are still doing. The Encyclopédie, formed in 1984,
was an attempt to come to grips with this reality and to conduct a
critical analysis of the social conflict of the 1960s. We had a feeling
that the work that awaited us would be comparable to the work of the SI,
with respect to its importance.
JG: Despite the enmity, based on his congenital inferiority complex,
that Alfonso Guerra felt for him, Jorge SemprĂșn, the father of Jaime
SemprĂșn, the driving force behind the EncyclopĂ©die des Nuisances, was
named Minister of Culture by Felipe. How did this news affect the
journal?
MA: It didnât really matter. It had been fifteen years since Jaime had
broken with his father, whom he considered to be a bourgeoisified
intellectual who had spent many years as an accomplice of the
Stalinists. The news did however give rise to some jokes. Jorge SemprĂșn
was the paradigm of the organic intellectual, egolatrous and
chameleon-like, a seller of himself and a model for social climbers.
JG: What circumstances were responsible for your return to Spainâand in
what yearâand what was your impression when you arrived and saw how
Iberian democracy was developing on the groundâŠ.
MA: In late 1976 I got a passport from the embassy and the first thing I
did was to take a trip through England, just when the punk scene was
getting underway. In April of 1977 I returned to the Peninsula and I
made arrangements to print âThe Manuscript Found in Vitoriaâ. There was
a lot going on in Barcelona, but it was mostly dominated by frivolity
and fashionable radical chic. The confusion increased and the most
diametrically opposed camps intermingled: some apathetic passerby might
lie down to take a nap in the Parque GĂŒell and wake up as a nationalist
in the middle of an Estatut dâAutonomĂa demonstration. The proletarian
offensive was broken on March 3, 1976 in Vitoria/Gasteiz, but the
workers movement still enraged Francoâs heirs, whether of the right or
the left. With a handful of associates I plunged into a wandering
itinerary from one hot-spot of struggle to another. I especially recall
the strikes of the ceramics industry workers in CastellĂłn and the shoe
industry workers in Alicante.
JG: Since then your activity in the critical sphere has been
constantâcould you also tell me about your activity as it was related to
earning a living, your career as a teacherâand you have constructed your
own platform, the publishing house/journal Argelaga, which defines
itself as âanti-developmentalist and libertarianâ and which to some
degree constitutes a new version of the Encyclopédie. As a publisher,
what degree of real, more or less proven interest, do you believe exists
at this time in Spain with respect to critical thought and the unmasking
of that which determines our everyday lives?
MA: I signed up with the assembly of unemployed teachers and the only
position that I managed to get was as an elementary school teacher. I
began the course in 1979â80 and I obtained a stable job that allowed me
to avoid dreading each day as a struggle to survive. The prospect for
radical change in Spain had evaporated. Tejeroâs coup terrified the
personnel of the State and that hybrid of Francoâs Spain and
parliamentarism that they called âdemocracyâ was imposed as the lesser
of two evils. Meanwhile, the Berlin Wall fell. In France, a radical
anti-nuclear movement re-emerged after the accident at Chernobyl in 1987
and the âIrradiated People of the World, Unite!â Committee, whose
positions were close to our own, was formed. During the same period,
there were protests against large-scale, pointless projects like
building highways and the high speed train. In the Encyclopédie we
imagined that we were at the threshold of a new cycle of struggles,
which we defined as anti-industrial struggles. We put our support behind
these struggles and we formed, with some other people, an Alliance
against All Harmful Phenomena [Nuisances]. Later, I think it was in
1993, at the suggestion of Semprun, the Ăditions de lâEncyclopĂ©die des
Nuisances was established, in which I played a very minor role. At that
time I was working on a historical review of anarchism during the
revolutionary civil war. My first book was about The Friends of Durruti
Group, founded by Jaime Balius; my second book was on the Iron Column;
my third was devoted to the Andalusian anarchist, Francisco Maroto; my
fourth book was on Durruti during the civil war. Argelaga belongs to a
later stage; that was a project that was conceived in 2013 in close
cooperation with Joan B. that followed in the footsteps of interesting
antecedents like the BoletĂn de Los Amigos de Ludd [Bulletin of the
Friends of Ludd], publishers like Muturreko, EtcĂ©tera, the RaĂces
[Roots] journal or the old magazine Ekintza Zuzena. These are not good
times for critique, now that we have a reformist middle class that is
trying to resolve the crisis with an âassaultâ on legislative seats.
Everything that comes from political realism is viewed with jaundiced
eyes, but that is how it is.
JG: One of the titles listed in Argelagaâs catalogue is your book, Rock
para principiantes [Rock for Beginners] (2014), a highly condensed but
instructive synthesis of the development and consumerist assimilation of
this culture. Why did you write that bookâŠ.
MA: It started with a conversation in a bar with a friend of mine from
Alcoy who was involved with an online journal called MISC. I was
surprised by the fact that the ignorance of the new generations involves
more than just forgetting the historical memory of revolutions and has
embraced one of the most typical manifestations of the youth of the
sixties. No one remembered anything from before the era of punk. What
poverty!
JG: What was your relation to rock? I suppose that because you grew up
in Valencia, one of the most prolific provinces for the Spanish pop
music of the sixties, this would be a determinant factorâŠ.
MA: When I was a little kid I listened to rock and to every kind of
music that was played on the radio. I even learned to sing in the chorus
of my school. The small cities and villages preserved some vitality and
during the sixties bands were formed in even the most remote places that
imitated the Beatles, the Shadows, Presley, the Teen Tops, etc., and
performed versions of the most popular pop and soul songs. I liked rock,
but I was not gifted with interpretive talent. I wasnât into the
singer-songwriter genre, either. I liked Dylan but I despised what
Raimon, Ovidi, Pi de la Serra and Lluis Llach were doing; it sounded
like an opportunist copy, hollow, like pseudo-transcendent poetry.
Nothing comparable to âThe Times They Are A-Changinââ. They were the
musical wing of the opposition that made a deal with franquismo to
create the disgusting particratic regime we have now. Just look at how
the front row of seats at one of Raimonâs latest concerts is full of
Ministers, political bigwigs and old trade unionists who sold out. I
will stick with Nadineâs coffee-colored Cadillac, Chuck Berryâs first
single.[1] That was less pretentious and more authentic.
JG: In Rock for Beginners you conclude that no subsequent musical style
âhas broken out of its particular ghetto, because none of them could
express the universal hopes of freedom and self-realization like the
rock of that era; they taught no lessons that could be forgotten, nor
did they challenge the established order very effectively, nor did they
fan the flames of protest for very longâ. You also say that pop music
âtherefore became the bearer of truth, which, according to Hegel, is
also beauty, and is spontaneously manifested, subjective and incomplete,
appealing to the sensesâor âgood vibrationsââinstead of reason, the
spirit of the modern social revolutionâ. I partly agree with both of
these opinions, but I get the feeling that they harbor a certain
idealization that I suppose has something to do with the fact that you
were there, when you were young, so that there might be an element of
nostalgia or Proustian longing for days gone by.
MA: I, too, have been burned, like Nerval, by the rays of âthe black sun
of melancholyâ. Nostalgia, more or less. In the past rock was a catalyst
of revolutionary energies and nostalgia tends to idealize this. We
recall a time when the monotonous vulgarity of the present was not
thought to be creative and original, when authenticity stole in through
the cracks that the prevailing monotony could not seal. Yearning for
what has been lost has not turned me into a pathetic old rocker like
Miguel RĂos, but I use it as a weapon in the struggle for a different
kind of future than the one that our leaders want to impose on us.
JG: Your most recent book is FilosofĂa en el tocador [Philosophy in the
Boudoir] (2016), a collection of transcripts of talks, texts and
introductions that contains, if not all, at least a good share of the
main themes of your discourse. Beginning with the truth. âIn a world
dominated by capitalist irrationality, truth is only a moment of the
false. Its revelation no longer changes anythingâ. How have we descended
into this new dark age, which is so blindingly illuminated?
MA: That was a paraphrase of one of the theses from Guy Debordâs Society
of the Spectacle, and Debordâs thesis was a dĂ©tournement of a quotation
from Hegel. The products of social activity, whether they are
commodities or institutions, escape from the control of the producers,
and confront them as separate powers. Human relations are no longer
direct and have become mediated by things or images, they have become
dehumanized. This is called alienation. Being is transposed outside of
the self. Reality is concealed by appearance. And truth is concealed by
falsehood. How did we reach this point? At first, gradually, thanks to a
process of colonization of the world by the commodity and a gradual
replacement of society by the State. Then, during the time of the
spectacle, with the unification of Capital and the State, all at once.
JG: Speaking of fascism, you point out that under such a regime,
âthought or the search for the truth is not valued, because the social
order is exclusively based on the bald-faced lieâ. At this very moment
in Spain, and in many other places, the same thing is happeningâŠ.
MA: Postmodernism, which is the philosophical reaction in late
capitalism, has relativized the truth, putting it on the same level with
the lie. It was an attempt to abolish the points of reference on the
basis of which objective statements could be made. In politics this is
the job of the spectacle, or as they used to say, propaganda. Power has
at its disposal a media apparatus of disinformation and
non-communication thanks to which it transmits its messages and orders,
and compliance is monitored by way of a sophisticated mechanism of
control. What we have is a peaceful conditioning of the population that
is politely leading us to a police state. The particratic regime is very
similar to the Nazi regime with respect to the way it functions, except
that it is based on persuasion and does not resort to violence except in
extreme cases.
JG: The neutralization of truth seems to be a direct consequence of the
neutralization of History, another one of your concerns. Somewhere you
say that âHistory is tragic, because contradictions are incubated and
develop within it that can only be resolved in violent struggle ⊠the
secret will be revealed only to the spectators of the macabre last act.â
Is violence the only possible way to retrieve History from those who
write it? Is knowing the secret worth so much trouble?
MA: That quotation pertains to one of the main conclusions of Hegelâs
philosophy of history. George Orwell, in his book 1984, exposed the
totalitarian principle that âignorance is strengthâ. The erasure of
memory is a weapon to control the past used by those who control the
present. And, once again returning to 1984, âthose who control the
present control the futureâ. Obviously, the controllers will not
abdicate of their own free will, but will have to be evicted. Is it
worth the trouble? I would answer that with another question: is it
worth the trouble to live in ignorance? The truth will make you free, as
the New Testament says. When we allow ourselves to be administered by
the State and represented by the parties we are permitted to live in a
kingdom of forgetting where the aurea mediocritas [golden mean] is the
final goal, although I am afraid that, the way things are going, not
even this goal is within the reach of many people. The truth will make
us free, but the truth alone will not make us happy.
JG: History is above all else Memory, you say, but there is nonetheless
the paradox of Historical Memory, that invention of Pierre Nora, by
means of which the past could also be imagined. Was Hassan-i Sabbah
therefore correct when he said that ânothing is true and everything is
permittedâ?
MA: That saying does not come from Hassan i-Sabbah but from a German
orientalist from the early 19^(th) century, Hammer Purgstall, who
abusively reduced the entire Ismaelite doctrine to that principle for
the purpose of exposing the disastrous influence of secret societies on
weak governments. The French Revolution had such a profound impact on
conservative thought that it caused the proponents of the latter to
believe in a universal and perpetual conspiracy that started with the
medieval heretics, and, passing through the Templars and the Jesuits,
found a home among the Masonic lodges, the alleged culprits behind the
revolution. Si non e vero, e ben trovato![2] The conspiracies of
nihilist fanatics are nonetheless very much a contemporary phenomenon
when it comes to powerâs tactics of disinformation, by means of which
power manufactures the terrorist image of its enemies, whether
anarchists or Islamic fundamentalists.
JG: In the text, GenealogĂa del pensamiento dĂ©bil [Genealogy of Weak
Thought], you speak of a âsubmissive thought that serves as the watchdog
over subversive appearancesâ and of âconsumers of ideology who want the
prestige of revolt and the comfort of order at the same timeâ. It would
appear that this can be applied to 15M, to podemismo and to the whole
new political (re)generation that seems to amount to a project to sell
the youth to their leaders, like rock.
MA: Weak thought, post-structuralism and deconstructionismâFrench
Theoryâarose as a reaction against May â68. Its goal was to destroy
revolutionary thought by presenting it as the bearer of totalitarianism.
The technophile generation of 15M was weaned on its postulates, its
topics, and its pseudo-radicalism. It is not a generation that advocates
the dismantling of capitalism and the dissolution of the State, that
builds barricades and turns its back on institutions, but very much the
contrary. It is a generation of the prematurely aged, which criminalizes
those who defend themselves from the police, and lays claim to the
streets in order to transform them into high-tech discotheques,
rehabilitating the old fetishes with cosmic glitter.
JG: Podemos, which you have referred to as âthe remake of the United
Left [Izquierda Unida]â, is the product of the so-called civil society
movement, which you have characterized as an âassault on the easy
chairsâ and concerning which you are very critical: âthe presence of
politicians of a new kind who hold the balance of power alongside other,
more well-known politicians, is a factor of stability for the
particratic caste and gives it a shot of legitimacyâ.
MA: The communists have always been the vanguard of the
counterrevolution. If, forty years ago, with a strong workers movement,
this vanguard took the form of a workers party, now, without any
prospects of revolution on the horizon, this same vanguard acquires the
lineaments of a renovated social democracy. These days, the seizure of
power is not based on channeling the violence unleashed by the class
struggle, but on the frustration of the members of the bourgeoisified
middle class, who think of themselves as the âcitizenryâ. The âassault
on the institutionsâ is nothing but the electoral exploitation of the
disillusionment of âcivil societyâ. You only need to take a look at the
institutional conduct of Podemos and its partners to realize that they
have not regenerated anything, but are reaffirming everything just as it
is.
JG: Postmodernism is another one of your bĂȘtes noires. You define it as
reactionary, as expressing the predominance of individual interests, the
immediate satisfaction of false needs, unconsciousness, ignorance,
manipulated desires and a spirit that is content with increasingly less
convincing substitutes. Have people like Deleuze, Foucault, Derrida and
Baudrillard been that pernicious?
MA: The situationists coined the term, ârecuperationâ, to refer to the
operation of devitalization and pillage of critical thought by way of an
incoherent, confusionist, and frankly superficial discourse, which could
only serve the purposes of the established order. The recuperators of
the past used the university as their base of operations, disseminating
a flood of frivolous and pretentious literature that presently serves as
a âtoolboxâ for our contemporary recuperators, who are much more
numerous than their predecessors. The impostors that you mention were no
worse than their admiring readers: they were just doing their jobs.
JG: One of the pillars of submissive thought, you say, is âthe
theoretical annihilation of the subject of consciousnessâ. You give the
impression that, confronted by this assault, one must be on high alert
twenty-four hours a day. You cannot even sleep, for by doing so you run
the risk of ending up like the protagonists in âThe Invasion of the Body
Snatchersâ. Living like that is so stiflingâŠ.
MA: As the English say, Donât panic.[3] My statement refers to the
efforts of the ideologues of submission to prevent the formation of a
conscious collectiveâwe could call it a historical force, or a class.
Not letting yourself get dragged around by your nose is something that
does not demand any special lucidity, nor does it generate an anxiety
that could deprive us of sleep. When we wake up we will still be the
same people.
JG: In your opinion, technology has been a major ally for
turbo-capitalism in its quest to proletarianize the world and to
disseminate that postmodern mentality based on ânarcissism, existential
emptiness, frivolity, consumerism, the absence of any serious
commitment, fear, loneliness, emotional problems and problems with
relationships, vapid gregariousness, the worship of success, [and]
political ârealismââ. Whenever I take the subway and I see everyone
absorbed in their smart phones, I think of the zombie movies. Will this
get worse?
MA: There is a law that is inherent to our contemporary way of life that
can be expressed as follows: âEverything that can get worse, will get
worse.â Technology has always been the great ally of Capital, dixit
Marx, since every technological innovation has increased the yield of
the means of production and abolished jobs. It has not ceased to do so,
but has allowed everyday life to enter the domain of the economy. The
most insignificant gesture of private life can be source of profit if it
is correctly mechanized and capitalized. Technology allows the logic of
the market to penetrate into everyday life in ways that would have been
unimaginable only a few years ago. The same goes for levels of
surveillance. The body snatchers that you mentioned are now a technical
possibility thanks to nanotechnology.
JG: One of your more striking premises is that the suppression of the
working class, or, more precisely, of its consciousness, was the
greatest counterrevolutionary achievement of capitalism. It is in fact
remarkable to observe how, in documentaries about the 1970s, at the
threshold of the transitional con game, one can see working class people
who are much more well-informed ideologically, with articulate and
educated opinions. Now, this slave class is more concerned with sales at
Primark and its âdiscourseâ has become illiterateâŠ.
MA: The Transition had an economic dimension. National capitalism was
dissolved into larger market structures until everything was globalized.
The tertiarization of the economy overwhelmingly diminished the role of
labor in the productive sector and led to a corresponding increase of
labor in the service sector. This shift of wage labor from one sector to
another entailed the effects of massification, social uprooting and
anomie in the proletariat. The relative economic prosperity that was
brought by pensions, unlimited credit and civil service jobs submerged
the wage earning masses in conformism and locked them up within private
life, which allowed others to pursue politics as a well-remunerated job,
with revolving doors that guaranteed that they would never lose their
source of income.
JG: In fact, the middle class has also been abolished, it has been
turned into a wage earning class, âa docile being ready to sacrifice its
convictions and its dignity for the comfort of the automobile, family
life, social security and a pension. This fear of losing its status on
the market and this lack of self-respect prepared it for every
renunciationâ. Is this the worst kind of fear?
MA: The acquisitive level of the middle class has been partially
reduced, but its mentality is still intact. Its fear, however, has grown
exponentially, and the task of every good government consists in the
correct management of this fear. Saint-Just said in one of his speeches
that âall other arts have produced masterpieces, but the art of
government has only produced monstersâ. We are already familiar with
some of these monsters, called politicians, but we do not pay as much
attention to the masses of slaves, who, to preserve their lives as
stockyard cattle, are ready to bow down before anyone who instills them
with a need for this condition and to stigmatize all those who are
excluded from this vast paradise.
JG: You emphasize the fact that the âcrisisâ that has generated this
fear and this uncertainty has not been translated into a demand for
drastic changes, as common sense might perhaps lead one to expect: âIn
the masses affected by this trend, a sceptical, possibilist attitude
predominates, since festive and cretinous submission is inevitable in
societies suffering from anomie. Phenomena such as precarious jobs,
pauperization and exclusion have not led to significant social
conflicts, unlike what had happened only a few decades before.â Anomie
now seems just as coterminous with our existence as the fact that human
nature can descend yet further into degradationâŠ.
MA: In mass society, as Hannah Arendt pointed out, individuals are
incapable of normal relations with each other. So we have the paradox
that crowds engender isolation, and isolation engenders fear and
neuroses. A society of solitary individuals does not admit any norms of
conduct that are valid for all, since it is a disordered mass of persons
without any possibility of communicating directly and normally with each
other. The norms must be imposed from the outside, from the state
apparatus, by way of mechanisms of surveillance and police coercion.
JG: A State like our contemporary State, you pointed out, paraphrasing
Debord, which is contrary to reason, to life and to so many other
things, âis condemned to aberration and collapseâ. No one would say such
a thing today, seeing as this State perpetuates itself even as its
nature is becoming more obvious, as is now happening in Spain. What do
you think about these opinion polls that indicate so much support at the
voting booth for the PP and the PSOE? I am asking you this because you
say that âthe economy and kickbacks do not work without order, and the
partiocracy, if it is not exactly order, is a disorder that functions as
much to the benefit of the economy as to that of profits themselves. It
is established disorderâ. By the way, do you vote?
MA: The modern State is a machine resting on a foundation of sand that
any crisis can destroy. In 1936, the republican State collapsed
overnight despite the fact that the fascist revolt was not as successful
as was anticipated. The coup attempt of 23F kept the State in a state of
suspense of days, which is how long it took to convince the military
high command and the royal house. Greece, Spain, Portugal and Ireland
have been on the verge of collapse because of such futile matters as
unpaid state debts, real estate bubbles or banking black holes. It is
precisely the fragility of the State that pushes the submissive and
alienated masses into the arms of the traditional parties, because they
are afraid that the remedies proposed by the new parties would affect
their personal routines and threaten that lifestyle that has cost them
so many unsatisfied desires and so much repressed will. Better an evil
you know thanâŠ. As for me, as the other Marx, Groucho, said, I would
never agree to join a club of voters that would admit me as a member,
which is why I have never voted.
JG: You say that indiscriminate terrorism plays a fundamental role for
the survival of our contemporary political and economic classes,
providing an alibi for introducing a police state. What is obvious to
you, is only a paranoid conspiracy to others. In any event, however, the
rise of Islamic terrorism, and the Islamic penetration into Europe, are
matters that give us a lot of food for thought in this sense. The
refugee âcrisisâ, for example: is it part of some plan?
MA: JoaquĂn MaurĂn, the founder of the POUM, said with respect to the
âwhiteâ terrorism that afflicted Barcelona between 1916 and 1924: âIt is
an undeniable historical phenomenon that a class in power, when it feels
its enemy undermining the foundations of its power, resorts to
terrorism, whose forms vary according to circumstances.â Today we know
all about the âstrategy of tensionâ in Italy during the seventies, to
which the panic-stricken Italian ruling class resorted to terrorism to
paralyze any inclinations the working class population may have had to
oppose the state by means other than the incorporation of the Italian
Stalinists into the government. A similar strategy, but on a lesser
scale, was applied in Spain between 1976 and 1981. The attacks and
kidnappings staged by FRAP and GRAPO, the extreme right and parallel
units of the police forces, were indications of an internal struggle
between the insiders from the Franco regime who favored modernization
and those who were more reluctant to dismantle the police-trade union
apparatus of the dictatorship. Jihadist terrorism, on the other hand,
was a direct consequence of the war that the capitalist countries are
waging in the Middle East and elsewhere for control over major reserves
of oil and gas. The abundance of failed States has given rise to the
emergence of an extremist party that has no qualms about making the
population of the West feel the deadly effects of the war in the Middle
East. What is ironic about this development is the fact that this party,
when it was first formed, was financed, armed and trained by the
capitalist States and their Islamic allies. The reactions to these
developments on the part of the middle classes in northern and southern
Europe have been quite different. While the southern Europeans interpret
the crisis and the war as domestic or foreign political problems, the
northern Europeans see them as security and border problems. While the
middle class of the Mediterranean countries likes to express a
humanitarianism that costs it nothing, in the rest of Europe that same
class contemplates the immigrants and refugees as a foreign body that is
very costly and that does not conform to its idiosyncrasies, which is
why there is so much support for a reactionary wave of ethnic identity
movements and nationalism is returning in its most proto-fascist forms.
JG: You express some very alarming, if not alarmist, reflections, with
respect to Progress, that incurable cancer: you have expressed the idea
that there is no futureâwhich is to say that the Sex Pistols were rightâ
and that justice and freedom are increasingly less concrete, that there
are no beings with independent judgment but only people who are
unreflectively absorbed in their toys, that the only progress is that of
leaders who make progress thanks to the progress of ignorance,
submission and control. âIf history follows the course laid out by
progressivist hubris, the endpoint will be desolation.â Is our outlook
so bleak?
MA: John Lydon recounts in his autobiography that the Pistols sang âno
futureâ precisely because they insisted that there should be one. Back
then, the United Kingdom was suffering the consequences of a prolonged
economic recession that was overcome with brutal austerity measures
during the Thatcher era and a dash of patriotism (the Malvinas War). It
was not a very lucid form of pessimism because it was still devoted to
progress, but it served as a rallying cry for the first frustrated
generation of recent history. It was more or less around that time that
the first issue of the Encyclopédie des Nuisances questioned the idea of
progress. Progress, understood as economic and technological growth, has
its negative side. This train has brought us wars, inequalities,
corruption, disease, pollutionâŠ. Developmentalism depletes resources,
destroys cultures, concentrates the population in insufferable
conurbations, creates pockets of marginalized people, ruins nature,
tortures the climate and throws the planet out of balance. Facing this
kind of panorama you cannot be an optimist. The evils brought to us by
the realization of the bourgeois concept of progress can be cured by
getting rid of it, which implies a social reorganization that is
incompatible with private profit and separate representation.
[1] His first single after his release from prisonâtranslatorâs note.
[2] âEven if it is not true, it is well conceivedâ [translatorâs note].
[3] In English in the originalâtranslatorâs note.