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Title: The Totality For Kids Author: Raoul Vaneigem Date: 1963 Language: en Topics: situationist international, situationist, dialectics Source: Introduction from *Beneath the Paving Stones: Situationists and the Beach, May 1968* with the main text taken from Bureau of Public Secrets. Retrieved on 2020-05-21 from http://www.bopsecrets.org/SI/7.basic1.htm] Notes: Originally published as âBasic Banalities.â âBanalitĂ©s de baseâ Part 1 originally appeared in *Internationale Situationniste* #7 (Paris, April 1962). And part two in *Internationale Situationniste* #8 (Paris, January 1963). This translation by Ken Knabb is from the *Situationist International Anthology* (Revised and Expanded Edition, 2006). No copyright.
Almost everyone has always been excluded from life and forced to devote
the whole of their energy to survival. Today, the welfare state imposes
the elements of this survival in the form of technological comforts
(cars, frozen foods, Welwyn Garden City, Shakespeare televised for the
masses).
Moreover, the organisation controlling the material equipment of our
everyday lives is such that what in itself would enable us to construct
them richly, plunges us instead into a luxury of impoverishment, making
alienation even more intolerable as each element of comfort appears to
be a liberation and turns out to be a servitude. We are condemned to the
slavery of working for freedom.
To be understood, this problem must be seen in the light of hierarchical
power. Perhaps it isnât enough to say that hierarchical power has
preserved humanity for thousands of years as alcohol preserves a foetus,
by arresting either growth or decay. It should also be made dear that
hierarchical power represents the most highly evolved form of private
appropriation, and historically is its alpha and omega. Private
appropriation itself can be defined as appropriation of things by means
of appropriation of people, the struggle against natural alienation
engendering social alienation.
Private appropriation entails an organisation of appearances by which
its radical contradictions can be dissimulated. The executives must see
themselves as degraded reflections of the master, thus strengthening,
through the looking-glass of an illusory liberty, all that produces
their submission and their passivity. The master must be identified with
the mythical and perfect servant of a god or a transcendence, whose
substance is no more than a sacred and abstract representation of the
totality of people and things over which the master exercises a power
which can only become even stronger as everyone accepts the purity of
his renunciation. To the real sacrifice of the worker corresponds the
mythical sacrifice of the organiser, each negates himself in the other,
the strange becomes familiar and the familiar strange, each is realised
in an inverted perspective. From this common alienation a harmony is
born, a negative harmony whose fundamental unity lies in the notion o f
sacrifice. This objective (and perverted) harmony is sustained by myth;
this term having been used to characterise the organisation of
appearances in unitary societies, that is to say, in societies where
power over s laves, over a tribe, or over serfs is officially
consecrated by divine authority where the sacred allows power to seize
the totality.
The harmony based initially on the âgift of oneselfâ contains a
relationship which was to develop, become autonomous, and destroy it.
This relationship is based on partial exchange (commodity, money,
product, labour force ) the exchange of a part of oneself on which the
bourgeois conception of liberty is based. it arises as commerce and
technology become preponderant within agrarian-type economies.
When the bourgeoisie seized power they destroyed its unity. Sacred
private appropriation became liacised in capitalistic mechanisms. The
totality was freed from its seizure by power and became concrete and
immediate once more. The era of fragmentation has been a succession of
attempts to recapture an inaccessible unity, to shelter power behind a
substitute for the sacred.
A revolutionary movement is when âall that reality presentsâ finds its
immediate representation. For the rest of the time hierarchical power.
always more distant from its magical and mystical regalia, endeavours to
make everyone forget that the totality (no more than reality!) exposes
its imposture.
Bureaucratic capitalism has found its legitimation in Marx. I am not
referring here to orthodox Marxismâs dubious merit of having reinforced
the neocapitalist structures whose present reorganization is an implicit
homage to Soviet totalitarianism; I am stressing the extent to which
crude versions of Marxâs most profound analyses of alienation have
become generally recognized in the most commonplace realities â
realities which, stripped of their magical veil and materialized in each
gesture, have become the sole substance of the daily lives of an
increasing number of people. In a word, bureaucratic capitalism contains
the tangible reality of alienation; it has brought it home to everybody
far more successfully than Marx could ever have hoped to do, it has
banalized it as the reduction of material poverty has been accompanied
by a spreading mediocrity of existence. As poverty has been reduced in
terms of survival, it has become more profound in terms of our way of
life â this is at least one widespread feeling that exonerates Marx from
all the interpretations a degenerate Bolshevism has made of him. The
âtheoryâ of peaceful coexistence has accelerated this awareness and
revealed, to those who were still confused, that exploiters can get
along quite well with each other despite their spectacular divergences.
âAny act,â writes Mircea Eliade, âcan become a religious act. Human
existence is realized simultaneously on two parallel planes, that of
temporality, becoming, illusion, and that of eternity, substance,
reality.â In the nineteenth century the brutal divorce of these two
planes demonstrated that power[1] would have done better to have
maintained reality in a mist of divine transcendence. But we must give
reformism credit for succeeding where Bonaparte had failed, in
dissolving becoming in eternity and reality in illusion. This union may
not be as solid as the sacraments of religious marriage, but it lasts,
which is all that the managers of coexistence and social peace can ask
of it. This is also what leads us to define ourselves â in the illusory
but inescapable perspective of duration â as the end of abstract
temporality, as the end of the reified time of our acts; to define
ourselves â does it have to be spelled out? â at the positive pole of
alienation as the end of social alienation, as the end of humanityâs
term of social alienation.
The socialization of primitive human groups reveals a will to struggle
more effectively against the mysterious and terrifying forces of nature.
But struggling in the natural environment, at once with it and against
it, submitting to its most inhuman laws in order to wrest from it an
increased chance of survival â doing this could only engender a more
evolved form of aggressive defense, a more complex and less primitive
attitude, manifesting on a higher level the contradictions that the
uncontrolled and yet influenceable forces of nature never ceased to
impose. In becoming socialized, the struggle against the blind
domination of nature triumphed inasmuch as it gradually assimilated
primitive, natural alienation, but in another form. The struggle against
natural alienation gave rise to social alienation. Is it by chance that
a technological civilization has developed to such a point that this
social alienation has been revealed by its conflict with the last areas
of natural resistance that technological power hadnât managed (and for
good reasons) to subjugate? Today the technocrats propose to put an end
to primitive alienation: with a stirring humanitarianism they exhort us
to perfect the technical means that âin themselvesâ would enable us to
conquer death, suffering, discomfort and boredom. But to eliminate death
would be less of a miracle than to eliminate suicide and the desire to
die. There are ways of abolishing the death penalty than can make one
miss it. Up till now the particular uses that have been made of
technology â or more generally the socio-economic context in which human
activity is confined â while quantitatively reducing the number of
occasions of pain and death, have allowed death itself to eat like a
cancer into the heart of each personâs life.
The prehistoric food-gathering age was succeeded by the hunting age
during which clans formed and strove to increase their chances of
survival. Hunting grounds and preserves were staked out from which
outsiders were absolutely excluded â the welfare of the whole clan
depended on it. As a result, the freedom gained by settling down more
safely and comfortably within the natural environment engendered its own
negation outside the boundaries laid down by the clan and forced the
group to modify its customary rules in organizing its relations with
excluded and threatening groups. From the moment it appeared, socially
engendered economic survival implied the existence of boundaries,
restrictions, conflicting rights. It should never be forgotten that
until now both history and our own nature have developed in accordance
with the development of private appropriation: the seizing of control by
a class, group, caste or individual of a general power over a
socio-economic survival whose form remains complex, ranging from
ownership of land, territory, factories or capital to the âpureâ
exercise of power over people (hierarchy). Beyond the struggle against
regimes whose vision of paradise is a cybernetic welfare state lies the
necessity of a still vaster struggle against a fundamental and initially
natural state of things, in the development of which capitalism plays
only an incidental, transitory role; a state of things that will only
disappear with the disappearance of the last traces of hierarchical
power â along with the âswine of humanity,â of course.
To be an owner is to claim a good one prevents others from using â while
at the same time acknowledging everyoneâs abstract, potential right to
ownership. By excluding people from a real right of ownership, the owner
extends his dominion over those he has excluded (absolutely over
nonowners, relatively over other owners), without whom he is nothing.
The nonowners have no choice in the matter. The owner appropriates and
alienates them as producers of his own power, while the necessity of
ensuring their own physical existence forces them despite themselves to
collaborate in producing their own exclusion and to survive without ever
being able to live. Excluded, they participate in ownership through the
mediation of the owner, a mystical participation characterizing from the
outset all the clan and social relationships that gradually replaced the
principle of obligatory cohesion in which each member was an integral
part of the group (âorganic interdependenceâ). Their guarantee of
survival depends on their activity within the framework of private
appropriation; they reinforce a property right from which they are
excluded. Due to this ambiguity each of them sees himself as
participating in ownership, as a living fragment of the right to
possess, and this belief in turn reinforces their condition as excluded
and possessed. (Extreme cases of this alienation: the faithful slave,
the cop, the bodyguard, the centurion â creatures who, through a sort of
union with their own death, confer on death a power equal to the forces
of life and identify in a destructive energy the negative and positive
poles of alienation, the absolutely submissive slave and the absolute
master.) It is of vital importance to the exploiter that this appearance
is maintained and made more sophisticated; not because he is especially
Machiavellian, but simply because he wants to stay alive. The
organization of appearances depends on the survival of the owner and his
privileges, which in turn depend on the physical survival of the
nonowner, who can thus remain alive while being exploited and excluded
from being a real person. Private appropriation and domination are thus
originally imposed and felt as a positive right, but in the form of a
negative universality. Valid for everyone, justified in everyoneâs eyes
by divine or natural law, the right of private appropriation is
objectified in a general illusion, in a universal transcendence, in an
essential law under which everyone individually manages to tolerate the
more or less narrow limits assigned to his right to live and to the
conditions of life in general.
In this social context the function of alienation must be understood as
a condition of survival. The labor of the nonowners is subject to the
same contradictions as the right of private appropriation. It transforms
them into possessed beings, into producers of their own expropriation
and exclusion, but it represents the only chance of survival for slaves,
for serfs, for workers â so much so that the activity that allows their
existence to continue by emptying it of all content ends up, through a
natural and sinister reversal of perspective, by taking on a positive
appearance. Not only has value been attributed to work (as a form of
self-sacrifice during the old regime, and in its most mentally degrading
forms in bourgeois ideology and in the so-called Peopleâs Democracies),
but very early on to work for a master, to alienate oneself willingly,
became the honorable and scarcely questioned price of survival. The
satisfaction of basic needs remains the best safeguard of alienation; it
is best dissimulated by being justified on the grounds of undeniable
necessities. Alienation multiplies needs because it can satisfy none of
them; nowadays lack of satisfaction is measured in the number of cars,
refrigerators, TVs: the alienating objects have lost the ruse and
mystery of transcendence, they are there in their concrete poverty. To
be rich today is to possess the greatest quantity of poor objects.
Up till now surviving has prevented us from living. This is why much is
to be expected of the increasingly obvious impossibility of survival, an
impossibility that will become all the more obvious as the glut of
conveniences and elements of survival reduces life to a single choice:
suicide or revolution.
The sacred presides even over the struggle against alienation. As soon
as the relations of exploitation and the violence that underlies them
are no longer concealed by the mystical veil, there is a breakthrough, a
moment of clarity â the struggle against alienation is suddenly revealed
as a ruthless hand-to-hand fight with naked power, power exposed in its
brute force and its weakness, a vulnerable giant whose slightest wound
confers on the attacker the infamous notoriety of an Erostratus.[2]
Since power survives, the event remains ambiguous. Praxis of
destruction, sublime moment when the complexity of the world becomes
tangible, transparent, within everyoneâs grasp; inexpiable revolts â
those of the slaves, the Jacques, the iconoclasts, the Enragés, the
FĂ©dĂ©rĂ©s,[3] Kronstadt, the Asturias, and â promises of things to come â
the hooligans of Stockholm and the wildcat strikes. Only the destruction
of all hierarchical power will allow us to forget these. We intend to
make sure that it does.
The deterioration of mythical structures and their slowness in
regenerating themselves, which make possible the awakening of
consciousness and the critical penetration of insurrection, are also
responsible for the fact that once the âexcessesâ of revolution are
past, the struggle against alienation is grasped on a theoretical plane,
subjected to an âanalysisâ that is a carryover from the demystification
preparatory to revolt. It is at this point that the truest and most
authentic aspects of a revolt are reexamined and repudiated by the âwe
didnât really mean to do thatâ of the theoreticians charged with
explaining the meaning of an insurrection to those who made it â to
those who aim to demystify by acts, not just by words.
All acts contesting power call for analysis and tactical development.
Much can be expected of:
consumer abundance (see the development of the workersâ struggles
presently beginning in England, and the attitudes of rebellious youth in
all the modern countries);
are consigning their past and present theorists to the museums (see the
role of the intelligentsia in the Eastern bloc);
alive by the colonial cops and mercenaries, the last, over-zealous
militants of a transcendence against which they are the best possible
vaccination;
forestalling remote-controlled revolts, âcrystal nightsâ[4] and sheepish
resistance.
Private appropriation is linked to the dialectic of particular and
general. In the mystical realm where the contradictions of the slave and
feudal systems are resolved, the nonowner, excluded as a particular
individual from the right of ownership, strives to ensure his survival
through his labor: the more he identifies with the interests of the
master, the more successful he is. He knows the other nonowners only
through their joint plight: the compulsory surrender of their labor
power (Christianity recommended voluntary surrender: once the slave
âwillinglyâ offered his labor power, he ceased to be a slave), the
search for the optimum conditions of survival, and mystical
identification. Struggle, though born of a universal will to survive,
takes place on the level of appearances where it brings into play
identification with the desires of the master and thus introduces a
certain individual rivalry that reflects the rivalry between the
masters. Competition develops on this plane as long as the exploitive
relations remain dissimulated behind a mystical veil and as long as the
conditions producing this veil persist; or to put it another way, as
long as the degree of slavery determines the slaveâs consciousness of
the degree of lived reality. (We are still at the stage of calling
âobjective consciousnessâ what is in reality the consciousness of being
an object.) The owner, for his part, depends on the general
acknowledgment of a right from which he alone is not excluded, but which
is seen on the plane of appearances as a right accessible to each of the
excluded taken individually. His privileged position depends on such a
belief, and this belief is also the basis for the strength that is
essential if he is to hold his own among the other owners; it is his
strength. If he seems to renounce exclusive appropriation of everything
and everybody, if he poses less as a master than as a servant of the
public good and defender of collective security, then his power is
crowned with glory and to his other privileges he adds that of denying,
on the level of appearances (which is the only level of reference in the
world of one-way communication), the very notion of personal
appropriation. Denying that anyone has this right, he repudiates the
other owners. In the feudal perspective the owner is not integrated into
appearances in the same way as the nonowners, slaves, soldiers,
functionaries and servants of all kinds. The lives of the latter are so
squalid that the majority can live only as a caricature of the Master
(the feudal lord, the prince, the major-domo, the taskmaster, the high
priest, God, Satan). But the master himself is also forced to play one
of these caricatural roles. He can do so without much effort since his
pretension to total life is already so caricatural, isolated as he is
among those who can only survive. He is already one of our own kind
(with the added grandeur of a past epoch, which adds a poignant savor to
his sadness); he, like each of us, was anxiously seeking the adventure
where he could find himself on the road to his total perdition. Could
the master, at the very moment he alienates the others, see that he has
reduced them to dispossessed and excluded beings, and thus realize that
he is only an exploiter, a purely negative being? Such an awareness is
unlikely, and would be dangerous. By extending his dominion over the
greatest possible number of subjects, isnât he enabling them to survive,
giving them their only chance of salvation? (âWhat would become of the
workers if the capitalists werenât kind enough to employ them?â the
high-minded souls of the nineteenth century liked to ask.) In fact, the
owner officially excludes himself from all claim to private
appropriation. To the sacrifice of the nonowner, who through his labor
exchanges his real life for an apparent one (thus avoiding immediate
death by allowing the master to determine his variety of living death),
the owner replies by appearing to sacrifice his nature as owner and
exploiter; he excludes himself mythically, he puts himself at the
service of everyone and of myth (at the service of God and his people,
for example). With an additional gesture, with an act whose
gratuitousness bathes him in an otherworldly radiance, he gives
renunciation its pure form of mythical reality: renouncing the common
life, he is the poor man amidst illusory wealth, he who sacrifices
himself for everyone while all the other people only sacrifice
themselves for their own sake, for the sake of their survival. He turns
his predicament into prestige. The more powerful he is, the greater his
sacrifice. He becomes the living reference point of the whole illusory
life, the highest attainable point in the scale of mythical values.
âVoluntarilyâ withdrawn from common mortals, he is drawn toward the
world of the gods, and his more or less recognized participation in
divinity, on the level of appearances (the only generally acknowledged
frame of reference), consecrates his rank in the hierarchy of the other
owners. In the organization of transcendence the feudal lord â and
through association with him the other owners of power or means of
production, in varying degrees â is led to play the principal role, the
role that he really does play in the economic organization of the
groupâs survival. As a result, the existence of the group is bound on
every level to the existence of the owners as such, to those who, owning
everything because they own everybody, force everyone to renounce their
lives on the pretext of the ownersâ unique, absolute and divine
renunciation. (From the god Prometheus, punished by the gods, to the god
Christ, punished by men, the sacrifice of the Owner becomes vulgarized,
it loses its sacred aura, becomes humanized.) Myth thus unites owner and
nonowner, enveloping them in a common form in which the necessity of
survival, whether mere physical survival or survival as a privileged
being, forces them to live on the level of appearances and of the
inversion of real life, the inversion of the life of everyday praxis. We
are still there, waiting to live a life less than or beyond a mystique
against which our every gesture protests while submitting to it.
Myth â the unitary absolute in which the contradictions of the world
find an illusory resolution, the harmonious and constantly harmonized
vision that reflects and reinforces the reigning order â is the sphere
of the sacred, the extrahuman zone where an abundance of revelations are
manifested but where the revelation of the process of private
appropriation is carefully suppressed. Nietzsche saw this when he wrote
âAll becoming is a criminal revolt from eternal being, and its price is
death.â When the bourgeoisie claimed to replace the pure Being of
feudalism with Becoming, all it really did was to desacralize Being and
resacralize Becoming to its own profit. It elevated its own Becoming to
the status of Being, no longer that of absolute ownership but rather
that of relative appropriation: a petty democratic and mechanical
Becoming, with its notions of progress, merit and causal succession. The
ownerâs life hides him from himself; bound to myth by a life-and-death
pact, he cannot see himself in the positive and exclusive enjoyment of
any good except through the lived experience of his own exclusion. (And
isnât it through this mythical exclusion that the nonowners will come to
grasp the reality of their own exclusion?) He bears the responsibility
for a group, he takes on the burden of a god. Submitting himself to its
benediction and its retribution, he swathes himself in austerity and
wastes away. Model of gods and heroes, the master, the owner, is the
true reality of Prometheus, of Christ, of all those whose spectacular
sacrifice has made it possible for âthe vast majority of peopleâ to
continue to sacrifice themselves to the extreme minority, to the
masters. (Analysis of the ownerâs sacrifice should be examined more
carefully: isnât the case of Christ really the sacrifice of the ownerâs
son? If the owner can never sacrifice himself except on the level of
appearances, then Christ stands for the real immolation of the ownerâs
son when circumstances leave no other alternative. As a son he is only
an owner at an early stage of development, an embryo, little more than a
dream of future ownership. In this mythic dimension belongs Maurice
BarrĂšsâs famous remark in 1914, when war had arrived and made his dreams
come true at last: âOur youth, as is proper, has gone to shed torrents
of our blood.â) This rather distasteful little game, before it became
transformed into a symbolic rite, knew a heroic period when kings and
tribal chiefs were ritually put to death according to their âwill.â
Historians assure us that these august martyrs were soon replaced by
prisoners, slaves or criminals. The penalty was delegated, but the
rulers kept the halo.
The concept of a common fate is based on the sacrifice of the owner and
the nonowner. Put another way, the notion of a âhuman conditionâ is
based on an ideal and tormented image whose purpose is to try to resolve
the irresolvable opposition between the mythical sacrifice of the
minority and the really sacrificed life of everyone else. The function
of myth is to unify and eternalize, in a succession of static moments,
the dialectic of âwill-to-liveâ and its opposite. This universally
dominant factitious unity attains its most tangible and concrete
representation in communication, particularly in language. Ambiguity is
most manifest at this level; it leads to a lack of real communication,
it puts the analyst at the mercy of ridiculous phantoms, at the mercy of
words â eternal and changing instants â whose content varies according
to who pronounces them, as does the notion of sacrifice. When language
is put to the test, it can no longer dissimulate the misrepresentation
and thus it provokes the crisis of participation. In the language of an
era one can follow the traces of total revolution, unfulfilled but
always imminent. They are the exalting and terrifying signs of the
upheavals they foreshadow, but who takes them seriously? The discredit
striking language is as deeply rooted and instinctive as the suspicion
with which myths are viewed by people who at the same time remain firmly
attached to them. How can key words be defined by other words? How can
phrases be used to point out the signs that refute the phraseological
organization of appearances? The best texts still await their
justification. When a poem by Mallarmé becomes the sole explanation for
an act of revolt, then poetry and revolution will have overcome their
ambiguity. To await and prepare for that moment is to manipulate
information not as the last shock wave whose significance escapes
everyone, but as the first repercussion of an act still to come.
Born of manâs will to survive the uncontrollable forces of nature, myth
is a public welfare policy that has outlived its necessity. It has
consolidated its tyrannical force by reducing life to the sole dimension
of survival, by negating it as movement and totality.
When contested, myth homogenizes the diverse attacks on it; sooner or
later it engulfs and assimilates them. Nothing can withstand it, no
image or concept that attempts to destroy the dominant spiritual
structures. It reigns over the expression of facts and of lived
experience, on which it imposes its own interpretive structure
(dramatization). Private consciousness is the consciousness of lived
experience that finds its expression on the level of organized
appearances.
Myth is sustained by rewarded sacrifice. Since every individual life is
based on its own renunciation, lived experience must be defined as
sacrifice and recompense. As a reward for his asceticism, the initiate
(the promoted worker, the specialist, the manager â new martyrs
canonized democratically) is granted a niche in the organization of
appearances; he is made to feel at home in alienation. But collective
shelters disappeared with unitary societies, all thatâs left is their
later concrete embodiments for the use of the general public: temples,
churches, palaces ... memorials of a universal protection. Shelters are
private nowadays, and even if their protection is far from certain there
can be no mistaking their price.
âPrivateâ life is defined primarily in a formal context. It is, to be
sure, engendered by the social relations created by private
appropriation, but its essential form is determined by the expression of
those relations. Universal, incontestable but constantly contested, this
form makes appropriation a right belonging to everyone and from which
everyone is excluded, a right one can obtain only by renouncing it. As
long as it fails to break free of the context imprisoning it (a break
that is called revolution), the most authentic experience can be
grasped, expressed and communicated only by way of an inversion through
which its fundamental contradiction is dissimulated. In other words, if
a positive project fails to sustain a praxis of radically overthrowing
the conditions of life â which are nothing other than the conditions of
private appropriation â it does not have the slightest chance of
escaping being taken over by the negativity that reigns over the
expression of social relationships: it is coopted like an inverted
mirror image. In the totalizing perspective in which it conditions the
whole of everyoneâs life, and in which its real and its mythic power can
no longer be distinguished (both powers being both real and mythical),
the process of private appropriation has made it impossible to express
life any way except negatively. Life in its entirety is immersed in a
negativity that corrodes it and formally defines it. To talk of life
today is like talking of rope in the house of a hanged man. Since the
key of will-to-live has been lost we have been wandering in the
corridors of an endless mausoleum. The dialogue of chance and the throw
of the dice[5] no longer suffices to justify our lassitude; those who
still accept living in well-furnished weariness picture themselves as
leading an indolent existence while failing to notice in each of their
daily gestures a living denial of their despair, a denial that should
rather make them despair only of the poverty of their imagination.
Forgetting life, one can identify with a range of images, from the
brutish conqueror and brutish slave at one pole to the saint and the
pure hero at the other. The air in this shithouse has been unbreathable
for a long time. The world and man as representation stink like carrion
and thereâs no longer any god around to turn the charnel houses into
beds of lilies. After all the ages men have died while accepting without
notable change the explanations of gods, of nature and of biological
laws, it wouldnât seem unreasonable to ask if we donât die because so
much death enters â and for very specific reasons â into every moment of
our lives.
Private appropriation can be defined notably as the appropriation of
things by means of the appropriation of people. It is the spring and the
troubled water where all reflections mingle and blur. Its field of
action and influence, spanning the whole of history, seems to have been
characterized until now by a fundamental double behavioral
determination: an ontology based on sacrifice and negation of self (its
subjective and objective aspects respectively) and a fundamental
duality, a division between particular and general, individual and
collective, private and public, theoretical and practical, spiritual and
material, intellectual and manual, etc. The contradiction between
universal appropriation and universal expropriation implies that the
master has been seen for what he is and isolated. This mythical image of
terror, destitution and renunciation presents itself to slaves, to
servants, to all those who canât stand living as they do; it is the
illusory reflection of their participation in property, a natural
illusion since they really do participate in it through the daily
sacrifice of their energy (what the ancients called pain or torture and
we call labor or work) since they themselves produce this property in a
way that excludes them. The master can only cling to the notion of
work-as-sacrifice, like Christ to his cross and his nails; it is up to
him to authenticate sacrifice, to apparently renounce his right to
exclusive enjoyment and to cease to expropriate with purely human
violence (that is, violence without mediation). The sublimity of the
gesture obscures the initial violence, the nobility of the sacrifice
absolves the commando, the brutality of the conqueror is bathed in the
light of a transcendence whose reign is internalized, the gods are the
intransigent guardians of rights, the short-tempered shepherds of a
peaceful, law-abiding flock of owners and owner wannabes. The gamble on
transcendence and the sacrifice it implies are the mastersâ greatest
conquest, their most accomplished submission to the necessity of
conquest. Anyone who intrigues for power while refusing the purification
of renunciation (the brigand or the tyrant) will sooner or later be
tracked down and killed like a mad dog, or worse: as someone who only
pursues his own ends and whose blunt disdain for âworkâ lacks any tact
toward othersâ feelings: serial killers like Troppmann, Landru, Petiot
were doomed to defeat because they murdered people without justifying it
in the name of defending the Free World, the Christian West, the State
or Human Dignity. By refusing to play the rules of the game, pirates,
gangsters and outlaws disturb those with good consciences (whose
consciences are a reflection of myth); but the masters, by killing the
encroacher or enrolling him as a cop, reestablish the omnipotence of the
âeternal truthâ: namely, that those who donât sell themselves lose their
right to survive and those who do sell themselves lose their right to
live. The sacrifice of the master is the essence of humanism, which is
what makes humanism â and let this be understood once and for all â the
miserable negation of everything human. Humanism is the master taken
seriously at his own game, acclaimed by those who see in his apparent
sacrifice (that caricatural reflection of their real sacrifice) a reason
to hope for salvation. Justice, Dignity, Nobility, Freedom... these
words that yap and howl, are they anything but household pets who have
continued to reliably return home to their masters since the time when
heroic lackeys won the right to walk them on the streets? To use them is
to forget that they are the ballast that enables power to rise out of
reach. And if we imagine a regime deciding that the mythical sacrifice
of the masters should not be promoted in such universal forms, and
setting about tracking down these word-concepts and wiping them out, we
could well expect the Left to be incapable of combating it with anything
more than a plaintive battle of words whose every phrase, invoking the
âsacrificeâ of a previous master, calls for an equally mythical
sacrifice of a new one (a leftist master, a regime mowing down workers
in the name of the proletariat). Bound to the notion of sacrifice,
humanism is born of the mutual fear of masters and slaves: it is nothing
but the solidarity of a shit-scared humanity. But those who reject all
hierarchical power can use any word as a weapon to punctuate their
action. Lautréamont and the illegalist anarchists were already aware of
this; so were the dadaists.
The appropriator thus becomes an owner from the moment he puts the
ownership of people and things in the hands of God or of some universal
transcendence, whose omnipotence is reflected back on him as a grace
sanctifying his slightest gesture. To oppose an owner thus consecrated
is to oppose God, nature, the fatherland, the people. In short, to
exclude oneself from the whole physical and spiritual world. âWe must
neither govern nor be governed,â writes Marcel Havrenne so neatly. For
those who add an appropriate violence to his humor, there is no longer
any salvation or damnation, no place in the universal order, neither
with Satan, the great coopter of the faithful, nor in any form of myth,
since they are the living proof of the uselessness of all that. They
were born for a life yet to be invented; insofar as they lived, it was
on this hope that they finally came to grief.
Two corollaries of singularization in transcendence:
automatically justifies the being of the master and the hierarchical
power wherein the master is reflected in degraded, more or less faithful
images.
practice and theory, is superimposed the distinction between
work-as-real-sacrifice and the organization of work in the form of
apparent sacrifice.
It would be tempting to explain fascism â among other reasons for it â
as an act of faith, the auto-da-fé of a bourgeoisie haunted by the
murder of God and the destruction of the great sacred spectacle,
dedicating itself to the devil, to an inverted mysticism, a black
mysticism with its rituals and its holocausts. Mysticism and high
finance.
It should not be forgotten that hierarchical power is inconceivable
without transcendence, without ideologies, without myths.
Demystification itself can always be turned into a myth: it suffices to
âomit,â most philosophically, demystification by acts. Any
demystification so neutralized, with the sting taken out of it, becomes
painless, euthanasic, in a word, humanitarian. Except that the movement
of demystification will ultimately demystify the demystifiers.
By directly attacking the mythical organization of appearances, the
bourgeois revolutions unintentionally attacked the weak point not only
of unitary power but of any hierarchical power whatsoever. Does this
unavoidable mistake explain the guilt complex that is one of the
dominant traits of bourgeois mentality? In any case, the mistake was
undoubtedly inevitable.
It was a mistake because once the cloud of lies covering private
appropriation was pierced, myth was shattered, leaving a vacuum that
could be filled only by a delirious freedom and a splendid poetry.
Orgiastic poetry, to be sure, has not yet destroyed power. Its failure
is easily explained and its ambiguous signs reveal the blows struck at
the same time as they heal the wounds. And yet â let us leave the
historians and aesthetes to their collections â one has only to pick at
the scab of memory and the cries, words and gestures of the past make
the whole body of power bleed again. The whole organization of the
survival of memories will not prevent them from dissolving into oblivion
as they come to life; just as our survival will dissolve in the
construction of our everyday life.
And it was an inevitable process: as Marx showed, the appearance of
exchange-value and its symbolic representation by money opened a
profound latent crisis in the heart of the unitary world. The commodity
introduced into human relationships a universality (a 1000-franc bill
represents anything I can obtain for that sum) and an egalitarianism
(equal things are exchanged). This âegalitarian universalityâ partially
escapes both the exploiter and the exploited, but they recognize each
other through it. They find themselves face to face, confronting each
other no longer within the mystery of divine birth and ancestry, as was
the case with the nobility, but within an intelligible transcendence,
the Logos, a body of laws that can be understood by everyone, even if
such understanding remains cloaked in mystery. A mystery with its
initiates: first of all priests struggling to maintain the Logos in the
limbo of divine mysticism, but soon yielding to philosophers and then to
technicians both their positions and the dignity of their sacred
mission. From Platoâs Republic to the Cybernetic State.
Thus, under the pressure of exchange-value and technology (what we might
call âmediation at your fingertipsâ), myth was gradually secularized.
Two facts should be noted, however:
within and against that unity. Rational and logical structures of
behavior are superimposed on the old magical and analogical ones,
simultaneously negating and preserving them (mathematics, poetics,
economics, aesthetics, psychology, etc.).
becomes more autonomous, it tends to break away from the sacred and
become fragmented. In this way it presents a double danger for unitary
power. We have already seen that the sacred expresses powerâs seizure of
the totality, and that anyone wanting to accede to the totality must do
so through the mediation of power â the repression of mystics,
alchemists and gnostics is sufficient proof of this. This also explains
why present-day power âprotectsâ specialists (though without completely
trusting them): it vaguely senses that they are the missionaries of a
resacralized Logos. Various historical movements represent attempts
within mystical unitary power to found a rival unitary power based on
the Logos: Christian syncretism (which makes God psychologically
explainable), the Renaissance, the Reformation and the Enlightenment. ]
The masters who strove to maintain the unity of the Logos were well
aware that only unity can stabilize power. Examined more closely, their
efforts can be seen not to have been as vain as the fragmentation of the
Logos in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries would seem to prove. In
the general movement of atomization the Logos has been broken down into
specialized techniques (physics, biology, sociology, papyrology, etc.),
but at the same time the need to reestablish the totality has become
more imperative. It should not be forgotten that all it would take would
be an all-powerful technocratic power in order for there to be a
totalitarian domination of the totality, for mythâs domination of the
totality to be succeeded by the Logosâs unitary cybernetic power. In
such an event the vision of the Encyclopédistes (strictly rationalized
progress stretching indefinitely into the future) would have known only
a two-century postponement before being realized. This is the direction
in which the Stalino-cyberneticians are preparing the future. In this
context, peaceful coexistence should be seen as a preliminary step
toward a totalitarian unity. It is time everyone realized that they are
already resisting it.
We know the battlefield. The problem now is to prepare for battle before
the pataphysician,[6] armed with his totality without technique, and the
cybernetician, armed with his technique without totality, consummate
their political coitus.
From the standpoint of hierarchical power, myth could be desacralized
only if the Logos, or at least its desacralizing elements, were
resacralized. Attacking the sacred was at the same time supposed to
liberate the totality and thus destroy power. (Weâve heard that one
before!) But the power of the bourgeoisie â fragmented, impoverished,
constantly contested â maintains a relative stability by relying on the
following ambiguity: Technology, which objectively desacralizes,
subjectively appears as an instrument of liberation. Not a real
liberation, which could be attained only by desacralization â that is,
by the end of the spectacle â but a caricature, an imitation, an induced
hallucination. What the unitary worldview previously transferred into
the beyond (above), fragmentary power pro-jects (literally, âthrows
forwardâ) into a state of future well-being, of brighter tomorrows
proclaimed from atop the dunghill of today â tomorrows that are nothing
more than the present multiplied by the number of gadgets to be
produced. From the slogan âLive in Godâ we have gone on to the
humanistic motto âSurvive until you are old,â euphemistically expressed
as: âStay young at heart and youâll live a long time.â
Once desacralized and fragmented, myth loses its grandeur and its
spirituality. It becomes an impoverished form, retaining its former
characteristics but revealing them in a concrete, harsh, tangible
fashion. God doesnât run the show anymore, and until the day the Logos
takes over with its arms of technology and science, the phantoms of
alienation will continue to materialize and sow disorder everywhere.
Watch for those phantoms: they are the first signs of a future order. We
must start to play right now if we want to avoid a future condemned to
mere survival, or even a future in which survival itself will become
impossible (the hypothesis of humanity destroying itself â and with it
obviously the whole experiment of constructing everyday life). The vital
objectives of a struggle for the construction of everyday life are the
key, sensitive points of all hierarchical power. To build one is to
destroy the other. Caught in the vortex of desacralization and
resacralization, we aim above all to abolish (1) the organization of
appearances as a spectacle in which everyone denies himself; (2) the
separation on which private life is based, since it is there that the
objective separation between owners and dispossessed is lived and
reflected on every level; and (3) sacrifice. These three elements are
obviously interdependent, just as are their opposites: participation,
communication, and realization.[7] The same applies to their respective
contexts: nontotality (a bankrupt world, a controlled totality) and
totality.
The human relationships that were formerly dissolved in divine
transcendence (the totality crowned by the sacred) settled out and
solidified as soon as the sacred stopped acting as a catalyst. Their
materiality was revealed. As Providence was replaced by the capricious
laws of the economy, the power of men began to appear behind the power
of gods. Today a multitude of roles corresponds to the mythical role
everyone once played under the divine spotlight. Though their masks are
now human faces, these roles still require both actors and extras to
deny their real lives in accordance with the dialectic of real and
mythical sacrifice. The spectacle is nothing but secularized and
fragmented myth. It forms the armor of a power (which could also be
called essential mediation) that becomes vulnerable to every blow once
it no longer succeeds in disguising (in the cacophonous harmony where
all cries drown each other out) its nature as private appropriation, and
the greater or lesser dose of misery it allots to everyone.
Roles have become impoverished within the context of a fragmentary power
eaten away by desacralization, just as the spectacle represents an
impoverishment in comparison with myth. They betray its mechanisms and
artifices so clumsily that power, to defend itself against popular
denunciation of the spectacle, has no other alternative than to initiate
such denunciation itself by even more clumsily replacing actors or
ministers, or by organizing pogroms of prefabricated scapegoats (agents
of Moscow, Wall Street, the Judeocracy or the Two Hundred Families).
Which also means that the whole cast has been forced to become hams,
that style has been replaced by mannerisms.
Myth, as a motionless totality, encompassed all movement (pilgrimage can
be considered as an example of adventure and fulfillment within
immobility). On the one hand, the spectacle can seize the totality only
by reducing it to a fragment or a series of fragments (psychological,
sociological, biological, philological and mythological worldviews); on
the other, it is situated at the point where the process of
desacralization converges with the efforts at resacralization. Thus it
can succeed in imposing immobility only within the real movement, the
movement that changes it despite its resistance. In the era of
fragmentation the organization of appearances makes movement a linear
succession of motionless instants (this notch-to-notch progression is
perfectly exemplified by Stalinist âDialectical Materialismâ). Under
what we have called âthe colonization of everyday life,â the only
possible changes are changes of fragmentary roles. In terms of more or
less inflexible conventions, one is successively citizen, parent, sexual
partner, politician, specialist, professional, producer, consumer. Yet
what boss doesnât himself feel bossed? The proverb applies to everyone:
You may sometimes get a fuck, but you always get fucked!
The era of fragmentation has at least eliminated all doubt on one point:
everyday life is the battlefield where the war between power and the
totality takes place, with power having to use all its strength to
control the totality.
What do we demand in backing the power of everyday life against
hierarchical power? We demand everything. We are taking our stand in a
generalized conflict stretching from domestic squabbles to revolutionary
war, and we have gambled on the will to live. This means that we must
survive as antisurvivors. Fundamentally we are concerned only with the
moments when life breaks through the glaciation of survival, whether
those moments are unconscious or theorized, historical (e.g. revolution)
or personal. But we must also recognize that we are prevented from
freely following the course of such moments (except during the moment of
revolution itself) not only by the general repression exerted by power,
but also by the requirements of our own struggle and tactics. We have to
find ways of compensating for this âmargin of errorâ by broadening the
scope of these moments and demonstrating their qualitative significance.
What prevents what we say about the construction of everyday life from
being coopted by the cultural and subcultural establishment (Arguments,
academic thinkers with paid vacations) is the fact that all situationist
ideas are faithful extensions of acts attempted constantly by thousands
of people to try and prevent a day from being nothing but twenty-four
hours of wasted time. Are we an avant-garde? If so, to be avant-garde
means to move in step with reality.
We donât claim to have a monopoly on intelligence, but only on its use.
Our position is strategic, we are at the heart of every conflict. The
qualitative is our striking force.[8] People who half understand this
journal ask us for an explanatory monograph thanks to which they will be
able to convince themselves that they are intelligent and cultured â
that is to say, idiots. Someone who gets exasperated and chucks it in
the gutter is making a more meaningful gesture. Sooner or later it will
have to be understood that the words and phrases we use are still
lagging behind reality. The distortion and clumsiness in the way we
express ourselves (which a man of taste called, not inaccurately, âa
rather irritating kind of hermetic terrorismâ) comes from our central
position, our position on the ill-defined and shifting frontier where
language captured by power (conditioning) and free language (poetry)
fight out their infinitely complex war. To those who follow behind us we
prefer those who reject us impatiently because our language is not yet
authentic poetry â not yet the free construction of everyday life.
Everything related to thought is related to the spectacle. Almost
everyone lives in a state of terror at the possibility that they might
awaken to themselves, and this fear is deliberately fostered by power.
Conditioning, the special poetry of power, has extended its dominion so
far (all material equipment belongs to it: press, television,
stereotypes, magic, tradition, economy, technology â what we call
captured language) that it has almost succeeded in dissolving what Marx
called the undominated sector, replacing it with another, dominated one
(see below our composite portrait of âthe survivorâ). But lived
experience cannot so easily be reduced to a succession of empty roles.
Resistance to the external organization of life, i.e. to the
organization of life as survival, contains more poetry than any volume
of verse or prose, and the poet (in the literary sense of the word) is
one who has at least understood or sensed this fact. But such poetry is
in a most dangerous situation. Certainly poetry in the situationist
sense of the word is irreducible and cannot be coopted by power (as soon
as an act is coopted it becomes a stereotype, something conditioned by
the language of power). But it is encircled by power. Power contains the
irreducible by isolating it. But such isolation cannot last; something
has to give. The two pincers are, first, the threat of disintegration
(insanity, illness, destitution, suicide), and second, remote-controlled
therapeutics. The first grants death, the second grants a lifeless
survival (empty communication, âtogethernessâ of family or friends,
psychoanalysis in the service of alienation, medical care, ergotherapy).
Sooner or later the SI must define itself as therapeutic: we are ready
to defend the poetry made by all against the false poetry contrived by
power (conditioning). Doctors and psychoanalysts better get it straight
too, or they, along with architects and other apostles of survival, may
one day have to take the consequences for what they have done.
All unresolved, unsuperseded antagonisms weaken. Such antagonisms can
evolve only by remaining imprisoned in previous, unsuperseded forms
(anticultural art within the cultural spectacle, for example). Any
radical opposition that fails or that is partially successful (which
amounts to the same thing) gradually degenerates into reformist
opposition. Fragmentary oppositions are like the teeth on cogwheels,
they mesh with each other and make the machine go round â the machine of
the spectacle, the machine of power.
Myth maintained all antagonisms within the archetype of Manicheanism.
But what can function as an archetype in a fragmented society? The
memory of previous antagonisms, presented in obviously devalued and
unaggressive forms, appears today as the latest attempt to bring some
coherence into the organization of appearances, so great is the extent
to which the spectacle has become a spectacle of confusion and
equivalences. We are ready to wipe out all trace of those memories by
harnessing all the energy contained in previous antagonisms for a
radical struggle soon to come. All the springs blocked by power will one
day burst through to form a torrent that will change the face of the
world.
In a caricature of antagonisms, power urges everyone to be for or
against Brigitte Bardot, the nouveau roman, the 4-horse Citroën, Italian
cuisine, mescal, miniskirts, the UN, the classics, nationalization,
thermonuclear war and hitchhiking. Everyone is asked their opinion about
every detail in order to prevent them from forming one about the
totality. However clumsy this maneuver may be, it might have worked if
the salesmen in charge of peddling it from door to door were not
themselves waking up to their own alienation. To the passivity imposed
on the dispossessed masses is added the growing passivity of the
directors and actors subjected to the abstract laws of the market and
the spectacle and exercising less and less real power over the world.
Signs of revolt are already appearing among the actors â stars trying to
escape publicity, rulers criticizing their own power (Brigitte Bardot,
Fidel Castro). The tools of power are wearing out; their desire for
their own freedom is a factor that should be taken into account.
At the moment when slave revolts threatened to overthrow the power
structure and reveal the relationship between transcendence and the
mechanism of private appropriation, Christianity appeared with its
grandiose reformism, whose central democratic demand was for the slaves
to accede not to the reality of a human life â which would have been
impossible without denouncing the exclusionary aspect of private
appropriation â but rather to the unreality of an existence whose source
of happiness is mythical (imitation of Christ as the price of the
hereafter). What has changed since then? Anticipation of the hereafter
has become anticipation of a brighter tomorrow; the sacrifice of real,
immediate life is the price paid for the illusory freedom of an apparent
life. The spectacle is the sphere where forced labor is transformed into
voluntary sacrifice. Nothing is more suspect than the formula âTo each
according to his workâ in a world where work is the blackmail of
survival; to say nothing of âTo each according to his needsâ in a world
where needs are determined by power. Any constructive project that tries
to define itself autonomously and thus partially, and does not take into
account that it is in fact defined by the negativity in which everything
is suspended, becomes reformist. It is trying to build on quicksand as
though it were a cement foundation. Ignoring or misunderstanding the
context set by hierarchical power can only end up reinforcing that
context. The spontaneous acts we see everywhere forming against power
and its spectacle must be warned of all the obstacles in their path and
must find a tactic taking into account the strength of the enemy and its
means of cooption. This tactic, which we are going to popularize, is
détournement.
Sacrifice must be rewarded. In exchange for their real sacrifice the
workers receive the instruments of their liberation (comforts, gadgets),
but this liberation remains purely fictitious since power controls the
ways in which the material equipment can be used. Power uses to its own
ends both the instruments and those who use them. The Christian and
bourgeois revolutions democratized mythical sacrifice, the âsacrifice of
the master.â Today there are countless initiates who receive crumbs of
power for putting to public service the totality of their partial
knowledge. They are no longer called âinitiatesâ and not yet âpriests of
the Logosâ; they are simply known as specialists.
On the level of the spectacle their power is undeniable: the contestant
on âDouble Your Moneyâ and the postal clerk chattering all day about all
the mechanical features of his car both identify with the specialist,
and we know how production managers use such identification to bring
unskilled workers to heel. The true mission of the technocrats would be
to unify the Logos â if only (due to one of the contradictions of
fragmentary power) they themselves werenât so absurdly compartmentalized
and isolated. Each specialist is alienated by being out of phase with
the others; each knows everything about one fragment and no one grasps
the totality. What real control can the atomic technician, the
strategist or the political specialist exercise over a nuclear weapon?
What ultimate control can power hope to impose on all the gestures
developing against it? The stage is so crowded with actors that chaos is
the only master of the show. âOrder reigns and doesnât governâ
(Internationale Situationniste #6).
To the extent that the specialist takes part in the development of the
instruments that condition and transform the world, he is preparing the
way for the revolt of the privileged. Until now such revolt has been
called fascism. It is essentially an operatic revolt â didnât Nietzsche
see Wagner as a precursor? â in which actors who have long been pushed
aside and see themselves becoming less and less free suddenly insist on
playing the leading roles. Clinically speaking, fascism is the hysteria
of the spectacular world pushed to the point of climax. In this climax
the spectacle momentarily ensures its unity while at the same time
revealing its radical inhumanity. Through fascism and Stalinism, which
constitute its romantic crises, the spectacle reveals its true nature:
it is a disease.
We are poisoned by the spectacle. All the elements necessary for a
detoxification (that is, for our own construction of our everyday lives)
are in the hands of specialists. We are thus highly interested in all
these specialists, but in different ways. Some are hopeless cases: we
are not, for example, going to try and show the specialists of power,
the rulers, the extent of their delirium. On the other hand, we are
ready to take into account the bitterness of specialists imprisoned in
roles that are constricted, absurd or ignominious. We must confess,
however, that our indulgence has its limits. If, in spite of all our
efforts, they persist in putting their guilty conscience and their
bitterness in the service of power by fabricating the conditioning that
colonizes their own everyday lives; if they prefer an illusory
representation in the hierarchy to true fulfillment; if they persist in
ostentatiously brandishing their specializations (their painting, their
novels, their equations, their sociometry, their psychoanalysis, their
ballistics); finally, if, knowing perfectly well â and soon ignorance of
this fact will be no excuse â that only power and the SI hold the key to
using their specialization, they nevertheless still choose to serve
power because power, battening on their inertia, has chosen them to
serve it, then fuck them! Thereâs a limit to our generosity. They should
understand all this, and especially the fact that the revolt of
nonruling actors is henceforth linked to the revolt against the
spectacle (see below the thesis on the SI and power).
The general disparagement of the lumpenproletariat stemmed from the use
to which it was put by the bourgeoisie, which it served both as a
regulating mechanism for power and as a source of recruits for the more
dubious forces of order (cops, informers, hired thugs, artists...).
Nevertheless, the lumpenproletariat embodies a remarkably radical
implicit critique of the society of work. Its open contempt for both
lackeys and bosses contains a good critique of work as alienation, a
critique that has not been taken into consideration until now, not only
because the lumpenproletariat was an ambiguous sector, but also because
during the nineteenth and early twentieth century the struggle against
natural alienation and the production of well-being still appeared as
valid justifications for work.
Once it became known that the abundance of consumer goods was nothing
but the flip side of alienation in production, the lumpenproletariat
took on a new dimension: it expressed a contempt for organized work
which, in the age of the Welfare State, is gradually taking on the
proportions of a demand that only the rulers still refuse to
acknowledge. In spite of the constant attempts of power to coopt it,
every experiment carried out on everyday life, that is, every attempt to
construct it (an activity that has been illegal since the destruction of
feudal power, where it was limited and reserved for the ruling
minority), is concretized today in the critique of alienating work and
the refusal to submit to forced labor. So much so that the new
proletariat can be negatively defined as a âFront Against Forced Laborâ
bringing together all those who resist cooption by power. This is our
field of action, the arena where we are gambling on the ruse of history
against the ruse of power, backing the worker (whether steelworker or
artist) who â consciously or not â rejects organized work and life
against the worker who â consciously or not â accepts working at the
dictates of power. In this perspective, it is not unreasonable to
foresee a transitional period during which automation and the will of
the new proletariat leave work solely to specialists, reducing managers
and bureaucrats to the rank of temporary slaves. With the extension of
automation, the âworkers,â instead of supervising machines, could devote
their attention to watching over the cybernetic specialists, whose sole
task would be to increase a production that, through a reversal of
perspective, will have ceased to be the priority sector, so as to serve
the priority of life over survival.
Unitary power strove to dissolve individual existence in a collective
consciousness in such a way that each social unit subjectively defined
itself as a particle with a clearly determined weight suspended as
though in oil. Everyone had to feel overwhelmed by the omnipresent
evidence that everything was mere raw material in the hands of God, who
used it for his own purposes, which were naturally beyond individual
human comprehension. All phenomena were emanations of a supreme will;
any seemingly unexplainable perturbation was presumed to be a means
toward some larger, hidden harmony (the Four Kingdoms [of the Tarot],
the Wheel of Fortune, trials sent by the gods). One can speak of a
collective consciousness in the sense that it was simultaneously for
each individual and for everyone: consciousness of myth and
consciousness of particular-existence-within-myth. The power of the
illusion was such that authentically lived life drew its meaning from
what was not authentically lived. This is the reason for the priestly
condemnation of life, the reduction of life to pure contingency, to
sordid materiality, to vain appearance and to the lowest state of a
transcendence that became increasingly degraded as it escaped mythical
organization.
God was the guarantor of space and time, whose coordinates defined
unitary society. He was the common reference point for all mankind;
space and time came together in him just as in him all beings became one
with their destiny. In the era of fragmentation, man is torn between a
time and a space that no transcendence can unify through the mediation
of any centralized power. We are living in a space-time that is out of
joint, deprived of any reference point or coordinate, as though we were
never going to be able to come into contact with ourselves, although
everything invites us to.
There is a place where you create yourself and a time in which you play
yourself. The space of everyday life, of our true realization, is
encircled by every form of conditioning. The narrow space of our true
realization defines us, yet we define ourselves in the time of the
spectacle. To put it another way: our consciousness is no longer
consciousness of myth and of particular-being-within-myth, but rather
consciousness of the spectacle and of
particular-role-within-the-spectacle. (I pointed out above the
relationship between all ontology and unitary power; it should be
recalled here that the crisis of ontology appears with the movement
toward fragmentation.) Or to put it yet another way: in the space-time
relation in which everyone and everything is situated, time has become
the imaginary (the field of identifications); space defines us, although
we define ourselves in the imaginary and although the imaginary defines
us qua subjectivities.
Our freedom is that of an abstract temporality in which we are named in
the language of power (these names being the roles assigned to us), our
only margin of choice being limited to finding officially accepted
synonyms for ourselves. In contrast, the space of our authentic
realization (the space of our everyday life) is under the dominion of
silence. There is no name to name the space of lived experience except
in poetry â in language liberating itself from the domination of power.
By desacralizing and fragmenting myth, the bourgeoisie was led to demand
first of all independence of consciousness (demands for freedom of
thought, freedom of the press, freedom of research, rejection of dogma).
Consciousness thus ceased being more or less
consciousness-reflecting-myth. It became consciousness of successive
roles played within the spectacle. What the bourgeoisie demanded above
all was the freedom of actors and extras in a spectacle no longer
organized by God, his cops and his priests, but by natural and economic
laws, âcapricious and inexorable lawsâ defended by a new team of cops
and specialists.
God has been torn off like a useless bandage and the wound has stayed
raw. The bandage may have prevented the wound from healing, but it
justified suffering, it gave it a meaning well worth a few shots of
morphine. Now suffering has no justification whatsoever and morphine is
far from cheap. Separation has become concrete. Anyone at all can put
their finger on it, and the only answer cybernetic society has to offer
us is to become spectators of the gangrene and decay, spectators of
survival.
The drama of consciousness to which Hegel referred is actually the
consciousness of drama. Romanticism resounds like the cry of the soul
torn from the body, a suffering all the more acute as each of us finds
himself alone in facing the fall of the sacred totality and of all the
Houses of Usher.
The totality is objective reality, in the movement of which subjectivity
can participate only in the form of realization. Anything separate from
the realization of everyday life rejoins the spectacle â a hibernation
in which survival is frozen and served out in slices. There can be no
authentic realization except in objective reality, in the totality.
Anything else is a farce. The objective realization that functions
within the mechanism of the spectacle is nothing but the success of
power-manipulated objects (the âobjective realization in subjectivityâ
of famous artists, stars, personalities of Whoâs Who). On the level of
the organization of appearances, every success â and even every failure
â is inflated until it becomes a stereotype, and is broadcast as though
it were the only possible success or failure. So far power has been the
only judge, though its judgment has been subjected to various pressures.
Its criteria are the only valid ones for those who accept the spectacle
and are satisfied to play a role in it. But there are no more artists on
that stage, there are only extras.
The space-time of private life was harmonized in the space-time of myth.
Fourierâs harmony responds to this perverted harmony. As soon as myth no
longer encompasses the individual and the partial in a totality
dominated by the sacred, each fragment sets itself up as a totality. The
fragment set up as a totality is, in fact, the totalitarian. In the
dissociated space-time that constitutes private life, time â made
absolute in the form of abstract freedom, the freedom of the spectacle â
consolidates by its very dissociation the spatial absolute of private
life, its isolation, its constriction. The mechanism of the alienating
spectacle wields such force that private life reaches the point of being
defined as that which is deprived of spectacles: the fact that someone
escapes roles and spectacular categories is felt as an additional
deprivation, a distressful feeling which power uses as a pretext to
reduce everyday life to insignificant gestures (sitting down, washing,
opening a door).
The spectacle that imposes its norms on lived experience itself arises
out of lived experience. Spectacular time, lived in the form of
successive roles, makes the space of authentic experience the area of
objective powerlessness, while at the same time the objective
powerlessness that stems from the conditioning of private appropriation
makes the spectacle the ultimate of potential freedom.
Elements born of lived experience are acknowledged only on the level of
the spectacle, where they are expressed in the form of stereotypes,
although such expression is constantly contested and refuted in and by
lived experience. The composite portrait of the survivors â those whom
Nietzsche referred to as the âsmall onesâ or the âlast menâ â can be
conceived only in terms of the following dialectic of
possibility/impossibility:
reinforces impossibility on the level of authentic experience.
appropriation) determines the field of abstract possibilities.
Survival is two-dimensional. Against such a reduction, what forces can
bring out what constitutes the daily problem of all human beings: the
dialectic of survival and life? Either the specific forces the SI has
counted on will make possible the supersession of these contraries,
reuniting space and time in the construction of everyday life; or life
and survival will become locked in an antagonism growing weaker and
weaker until the point of ultimate confusion and ultimate poverty is
reached.
Lived reality is spectacularly fragmented and labeled in biological,
sociological or other categories which, while being related to the
communicable, never communicate anything but facts emptied of their
authentically lived content. It is in this sense that hierarchical
power, imprisoning everyone in the objective mechanism of private
appropriation (admission/exclusion, see section #3), is also a
dictatorship over subjectivity. It is as a dictator over subjectivity
that it strives, with limited success, to force each individual
subjectivity to become objectified, that is, to become an object it can
manipulate. This extremely interesting dialectic should be analyzed in
greater detail (objective realization in subjectivity â the realization
of power â and objective realization in objectivity â which enters into
the praxis of constructing everyday life and destroying power).
Facts are deprived of content in the name of the communicable, in the
name of an abstract universality, in the name of a perverted harmony in
which everyone realizes himself in an inverted perspective. In this
context the SI is in the line of contestation that runs through Sade,
Fourier, Lewis Carroll, LautrĂ©amont, surrealism and lettrism â at least
in its least-known currents, which were the most extreme.
Within a fragment set up as a totality, each further fragment is itself
totalitarian. Individualism treated sensitivity, desire, will,
intelligence, good taste, the subconscious and all the categories of the
ego as absolutes. Today sociology is enriching the categories of
psychology, but the introduction of variety into the roles merely
accentuates the monotony of the identification reflex. The freedom of
the âsurvivorâ will be to assume the abstract constituent to which he
has âchosenâ to reduce himself. Once any real fulfillment has been put
out of the picture, all that remains is a psycho-sociological dramaturgy
in which interiority functions as a safety valve to drain off the
effects one has worn for the daily exhibition. Survival becomes the
ultimate stage of life organized as the mechanical reproduction of
memory.
Until now the approach to the totality has been falsified. Power has
parasitically interposed itself as an indispensable mediation between
man and nature. But the relation between man and nature is based only on
praxis. It is praxis which constantly breaks through the coherent veneer
of lies that myth and its replacements try to maintain. It is praxis,
even alienated praxis, which maintains contact with the totality. By
revealing its own fragmentary character, praxis at the same time reveals
the real totality (reality): it is the totality being realized by way of
its opposite, the fragment.
In the perspective of praxis, every fragment is totality. In the
perspective of power, which alienates praxis, every fragment is
totalitarian. This should be enough to wreck the attempts that
cybernetic power will make to envelop praxis in a mystique, although the
seriousness of these attempts should not be underestimated.
All forms of praxis enter our project. They enter with their share of
alienation, with the impurities of power; but we are capable of
filtering them. We will elucidate the force and purity of acts of
refusal as well as the manipulative maneuvers of power, not in a
Manichean perspective, but as a means of developing, through our own
strategy, this combat in which everywhere, at every moment, the
adversaries are seeking to come to grips with one another but only
clashing accidentally, lost in irremediable darkness and uncertainty.
Everyday life has always been drained to the advantage of apparent life,
but appearance, in its mythical cohesion, was powerful enough to repress
any mention of everyday life. The poverty and emptiness of the
spectacle, revealed by all the varieties of capitalism and all the
varieties of bourgeoisie, has revealed both the existence of everyday
life (a shelter life, but a shelter for what and from what?) and the
poverty of everyday life. As reification and bureaucratization grow
stronger, the debility of the spectacle and of everyday life is the only
thing that remains clear. The conflict between the human and the inhuman
has been transferred to the plane of appearances. As soon as Marxism
became an ideology, Marxâs struggle against ideology in the name of the
richness of life was transformed into an ideological anti-ideology, an
antispectacle spectacle. (Just as in avant-garde culture the
antispectacular spectacle is restricted to actors alone, antiartistic
art being created and understood only by artists, so the relationship
between this ideological anti-ideology and the function of the
professional revolutionary in Leninism should be examined.) Manicheanism
has thus found itself momentarily revived. Why did St. Augustine attack
the Manicheans so relentlessly? It was because he recognized the danger
of a myth offering only one solution, the victory of good over evil; he
saw that the impossibility of such a solution threatened to provoke the
collapse of all mythical structures and bring into the open the
contradiction between mythical and authentic life. Christianity offered
a third way, the way of sacred confusion. What Christianity accomplished
through the force of myth is accomplished today through the force of
things. There can no longer be any antagonism between Soviet workers and
capitalist workers or between the bomb of the Stalinist bureaucrats and
the bomb of the non-Stalinist bureaucrats; there is no longer anything
but unity in the chaos of reified beings.
Who is responsible? Who should be shot? We are dominated by a system, by
an abstract form. Degrees of humanity and inhumanity are measured by
purely quantitative variations of passivity. The quality is the same
everywhere: we are all proletarianized or well on the way to becoming
so. What are the traditional ârevolutionariesâ doing? They are
struggling to eliminate certain distinctions, making sure that no
proletarians are any more proletarian than all the others. But what
party is calling for the end of the proletariat?
The perspective of survival has become intolerable. What is weighing us
down is the weight of things in a vacuum. Thatâs what reification is:
everyone and everything falling at an equal speed, everyone and
everything stigmatized with an equal value. The reign of equal values
has realized the Christian project, but it has realized it outside
Christianity (as Pascal surmised) and more importantly, it has realized
it over Godâs dead body, contrary to Pascalâs expectations.
The spectacle and everyday life coexist in the reign of equal values.
People and things are interchangeable. The world of reification is a
world without a center, like the new prefabricated cities that are its
decor. The present fades away before the promise of an eternal future
that is nothing but a mechanical extension of the past. Time itself is
deprived of a center. In this concentration-camp world, victims and
torturers wear the same mask and only the torture is real. No new
ideology can soothe the pain, neither the ideology of the totality
(Logos) nor that of nihilism â which will be the two crutches of the
cybernetic society. The tortures condemn all hierarchical power, however
organized or dissimulated it may be. The antagonism the SI is going to
revive is the oldest of all, it is radical antagonism and that is why it
is taking up again and assimilating all that has been left by the
insurrectionary movements and great individuals in the course of
history.
So many other banalities could be examined and reversed. The best things
never come to an end. Before rereading this text (which even the most
mediocre intelligence will be able to understand by the third attempt)
the reader would be well advised to pay particular attention to the
following points â points as fragmentary as the preceding ones, but
which must be discussed in detail and implemented. They concern a
central question: the SI and revolutionary power.
Being aware of the crises of both mass parties and âelites,â the SI must
embody the supersession of both the Bolshevik Central Committee
(supersession of the mass party) and of the Nietzschean project
(supersession of the intelligentsia).
upsurge, it has automatically undermined the power of the revolution.
The Bolshevik Central Committee defined itself simultaneously as
concentration and as representation. Concentration of a power
antagonistic to bourgeois power and representation of the will of the
masses. This duality led it rapidly to become no more than an empty
power, a power of empty representation, and consequently to merge into a
common form (bureaucracy) with a bourgeois power that was being
pressured (by the Bolshevik threat) into following a similar evolution.
The conditions for a concentrated power and mass representation exist
potentially in the SI when it notes that it possesses the qualitative
and that its ideas are in everyoneâs mind. Nevertheless we refuse both
concentrated power and the right of representation, conscious that we
are now taking the only public attitude (for we cannot avoid being known
to some extent in a spectacular manner) enabling those who find that
they share our theoretical and practical positions to accede to
revolutionary power: power without mediation, power entailing the direct
action of everyone. Our guiding image could be the Durruti Column,
moving from town to village, liquidating the bourgeois elements and
leaving the workers to see to their own self-organization.[9]
never offers anything but passive cathartic identification to those
whose every gesture gropingly expresses real opposition. The radicalism
â not of theory, obviously, but of gesture â that could be glimpsed in
the âDeclaration of the 121,â[10] however, suggests some different
possibilities. We are capable of precipitating this crisis, but we can
do so only by entering the intelligentsia as a power against the
intelligentsia. This phase â which must precede and be contained within
the phase described in paragraph (a) â will put us in the perspective of
the Nietzschean project. We will form a small, almost alchemical,
experimental group within which the realization of the total man can be
started. Nietzsche could conceive of such an undertaking only within the
framework of the hierarchical principle. It is, in fact, within such a
framework that we find ourselves. It is therefore of the utmost
importance that we present ourselves without the slightest ambiguity (at
the group level, the purification of the nucleus and the elimination of
residues now seems to be completed). We accept the hierarchical
framework in which we are placed only while impatiently working to
abolish our domination over those whom we cannot avoid dominating on the
basis of our criteria for mutual recognition.
more or less hidden center. We will establish nonmaterialized networks
(direct relationships, episodic ones, contacts without ties, development
of embryonic relations based on affinity and understanding, in the
manner of red agitators before the arrival of revolutionary armies). We
will claim radical gestures (actions, writings, political attitudes,
works) as our own by analyzing them, and we will consider that our own
acts and analyses are supported by the majority of people.
Just as God constituted the reference point of past unitary society, we
are preparing to create the central reference point for a new unitary
society now possible. But this point cannot be fixed. As opposed to the
ever-renewed confusion that cybernetic power draws from the inhuman
past, it stands for the game that everyone will play, âthe moving order
of the future.â
[1] The French word pouvoir can mean power in general, but it can also
refer to the ruling powers, the ruling classes, the ruling system, or
the particular regime in power.
[2] Erostratus burned down a famous Greek temple in 356 BC so that his
name would be remembered for all time.
[3] Jacques: French peasants who revolted in the Jacquerie of 1358; by
extension, a jacquerie is any particularly violent peasant rebellion.
Enragés: extreme radical current during the French Revolution
(1793â1794). FĂ©dĂ©rĂ©s: insurgents of the Paris Commune (1871),
particularly those massacred during its last stand.
[4] The âCrystal Nightâ was a Nazi-orchestrated âpopularâ reaction
against Jews in Germany in 1938, so called because of the enormous
number of store windows broken.
[5] Reference to MallarmĂ©âs poem âA Throw of the Dice Will Never Abolish
Chance.â Vaneigemâs meaning here is somewhat obscure (as is the poem),
but he seems to be referring to the inadequacy of an indifferent
alternation between arbitrary decisions and leaving things purely to
chance. âStĂ©phane MallarmĂ©, in the great poem that expresses and sums up
the idea he pursued throughout his life, declares: A Throw of the Dice
Will Never Abolish Chance. By the game of dice he symbolized pure
thought, which is in essence Number. What he meant by chance is
everything that escapes conscious thought and that arises out of its
very lapses. He somberly proclaimed the failure of the human spirit, its
inability to succeed in mastering itselfâ (AndrĂ© Rolland de RenĂ©ville,
Expérience Poétique).
[6] pataphysician: reference to âpataphysics,â the absurdist-nihilist
philosophy of Alfred Jarry.
[7] Many of the themes in âBasic Banalitiesâ were later developed more
clearly and fully in Vaneigemâs The Revolution of Everyday Life (1967).
Chapter 23 of that book deals with the âunitary triadâ: participation,
communication and realization, while Part I deals with their contraries:
spectacle, separation, sacrifice, etc.
[8] striking force: play on de Gaulleâs contention that France needed to
develop a strong military striking force.
[9] Durruti Column: anarchist militia unit led by Buenaventura Durruti
during the Spanish civil war.
[10] Declaration of the 121: a âDeclaration on the Right to Resist the
Algerian Warâ signed by 121 French artists and intellectuals (September
1960). The French government responded with arrests and firings, and
even prohibited news media from mentioning the name of any signer â
which only resulted in more people signing. The âDeclarationâ polarized
the intellectual community and contributed toward arousing French public
opinion (the first demonstration against the war came a month later).
MichĂšle Bernstein and Guy Debord were among the signers. See
Internationale Situationniste #5, pp. 5â7, 12.