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Title: Introduction to Civil War
Author: Tiqqun
Date: September 2001
Language: en
Topics: civil war, insurrectionary, Tiqqun
Source: https://illwill.com/print/tiqqun-introduction-to-civil-war
Notes: Aside from minor modifications, this is the translation produced

Tiqqun

Introduction to Civil War

Introduction to Civil War

We decadents have frayed nerves. Everything, or almost everything,

wounds us, and what doesn’t will likely be irritating. That’s why we

make sure no one ever touches us. We can only stand smaller and

smaller—these days, nanometric—doses of truth, and much prefer long

gulps of its antidote instead. Images of happiness, tried and true

sensations, kind words, smooth surfaces, familiar feelings and the

innermost intimacy, in short, narcosis by the pound and above all: no

war, above all, no war. The best way to put it is that this whole

preemptive, amniotic environment boils down to a desire for a positive

anthropology. We need THEM to tell us what “man” is, what “we” are, what

we are allowed to want and to be. Ultimately, our age is fanatical about

a lot of things, and especially about the question of MAN, through which

ONE[1] sublimates away the undeniable fact of Bloom.[2] This

anthropology, insofar as it is dominant, is not only positive by virtue

of an irenic, slightly vacuous and gently pious conception of human

nature. It is positive first and foremost because it assigns “Man”

qualities, determined attributes and substantial predicates. This is why

even the pessimist anthropology of the Anglo-Saxons, with its hypostasis

of interests, needs and the struggle for life plays a reassuring role,

for it still offers some practicable convictions concerning the essence

of man.

But we—those of us who refuse to settle for any sort of comfort, we who

admittedly have frayed nerves but also intend to make them still more

resistant, still more unyielding—we need something else entirely. We

need a radically negative anthropology, we need a few abstractions that

are just empty enough, just transparent enough to prevent our usual

prejudices, a physics that holds in store, for each being, its

disposition toward the miraculous. Some concepts that crack the ice in

order to attain, or give rise to, experience. To make ourselves handle

it.

There is nothing we can say about men, that is, about their coexistence,

that would not immediately act as a tranquillizer. The impossibility of

predicting anything about this relentless freedom forces us to designate

it with an undefined term, a blind word, that ONE has the habit of using

to name whatever ONE knows nothing about, because ONE does not want to

understand it, or understand that the world cannot do without us. The

term is civil war. This move is tactical; we want to reappropriate, in

advance, the term by which our operations will be necessarily covered.

Civil War, Forms of Life

Whoever does not take sides in a civil war is struck with infamy, and

loses all right to politics.

– Solon, The Constitution of Athens

1

The elementary human unity is not the body–the individual–but the

form-of-Iife.

2

The form-of-life is not beyond bare life, it is its intimate

polarization.[3]

3

Each body is affected by its form-of-life as if by a clinamen, a

leaning, an attraction, a taste. A body leans toward whatever leans its

way. This goes for each and every situation. Inclinations go both ways.

GLOSS: To the inattentive observer, it may seem that Bloom offers a

counterexample: a body deprived of every penchant and inclination, and

immune to all attractions. But on closer inspection, it is clear that

Bloom refers less to an absence of taste than to a special taste for

absence. Only this penchant can account for all the efforts Bloom makes

to persevere in Bloom, to keep what leans his way at a distance, in

order to decline all experience. Like the religious, who, unable to

oppose another worldliness to “this world,” must convert their absence

within the world into a critique of worldliness in general, Bloom tries

to flee from a world that has no outside. In every situation he responds

with the same disengagement, each time slipping away from the situation.

Bloom is therefore a body distinctively affected by a proclivity toward

nothingness.

4

This taste, this clinamen, can either be warded off or embraced. To take

on a form-of-life is not simply to know a penchant: it means to think

it. I call thought that which converts a form-of-life into a force, into

a sensible effectivity. In every situation there is one line that stands

out among all the others, the line along which power grows. Thought is

the capacity for singling out and following this line. A form-of-life

can be embraced only by following this line, meaning that: all thought

is strategic.

GLOSS: To latecomer’s eyes like ours, the conjuring away of every

form-of-life seems to be the West’s peculiar destiny. Paradoxically, in

this civilization that we can no longer claim as our own without

consenting to self-liquidation, conjuring away forms-of-life most often

appears as a desire for form: the search for an archetypal resemblance,

an Idea of self placed before or in front of oneself. Admittedly, this

will to identity, wherever it has been fully expressed, has had the

hardest time masking the icy nihilism and the aspiration to nothingness

that forms its spine.

But the conjuring away of forms-of-life also has a minor, more cunning

form called consciousness and, at its highest point, lucidity—two

“virtues” THEY prize all the more because these virtues render bodies

increasingly powerless. At that point, THEY start to call “lucidity” the

knowledge of this weakness that offers no way out.

Taking on a form-of-life is completely different from the striving of

the consciousness or the will, or from the effects of either. Actually,

to assume a form-of-life is a letting-go, an abandonment. It is at once

fall and elevation, a movement and a staying-within-oneself. what I am.

5

“My” form-of-life relates not to what I am, but to how I am.

GLOSS: This statement performs a slight shift. A slight shift in the

direction of a taking leave of metaphysics. Leaving metaphysics is not a

philosophical imperative, but a physiological necessity. Having now

reached the endpoint of its deployment, metaphysics gathers itself into

a planetary injunction to absence. What Empire demands is not that each

conforms to a common law, but that each conforms to its own particular

identity. Imperial power depends on the adherence of bodies to their

supposed qualities or predicates in order to leverage control over them.

“My” form-of-life does not relate to what I am, but to how, to the

specific way, I am what I am. In other words, between a being and its

qualities, there is the abyss of its own presence and the singular

experience I have of it, at a certain place and time. Unfortunately for

Empire, the form-of-life animating a body is not to be found in any of

its predicates— big, white, crazy, rich, poor, carpenter, arrogant,

woman, or French—but in the singular way of its presence, in the

irreducible event of its being-in-situation. And it is precisely where

predication is most violently applied—in the rank domain of

morality—that its failure fills us with joy: when, for example, we come

across a completely abject being whose way of being abject nevertheless

touches us in such a way that any repulsion within us is snuffed out,

and in this way proves to us that abjection itself is a quality.

To embrace a form-of-life means being more faithful to our penchants

than to our predicates. than another is as meaningless as asking why

there is

6

Asking why this body is affected by this form-of-life rather something

rather than nothing. Such a question betrays only a rejection, and

sometimes a fear, of undergoing contingency. And, a fortiori, a refusal

even to acknowledge it.

GLOSS α: A better question would be to ask how a body takes on

substance, how a body becomes thick, how it incorporates experience. Why

do we sometimes undergo heavy polarizations with far-reaching effects,

and at other times weak, superficial ones? How can we extract ourselves

from this dispersive mass of Bloomesque bodies, from this global

Brownian motion where the most vital bodies proceed from one petty

abandonment to the next, from one attenuated form-of-life to another,

consistently following a principle of prudence—never get carried away,

beyond a certain level of intensity? In other words, how could these

bodies have become so transparent?

GLOSS ÎČ: The most Bloomesque notion of freedom is the freedom of choice,

understood as a methodical abstraction from every situation. This

concept of freedom forms the most effective antidote against every real

freedom. The only substantial freedom is to follow right to the end, to

the point where it vanishes, the line along which power grows for a

certain form-of-life. This raises our capacity to then be affected by

other forms-of-life.

7

A body’s persistence in letting a single form-of-life affect it, despite

the diversity of situations it passes through, depends on its crack. The

more a body cracks up—that is, the wider and deeper its crack

becomes—the fewer the polarizations compatible with its survival there

are, and the more it will tend to recreate situations in which it finds

itself involved in its familiar polarizations. The bigger a body’s crack

grows, the more its absence to the world increases and its penchants

dwindle.

GLOSS: Form-of-life means therefore that my relation to myself is only

one part of my relation to the world.

8

The experience one form-of-life has of another is not communicable to

the latter, even if it can be translated; and we all know what happens

with translations. Only facts can be made clear: behaviors, attitudes,

assertions—gossip. Forms-oflife do not allow for neutral positions, they

offer no safe haven for a universal observer.

GLOSS: To be sure, there is no lack of candidates vying to reduce all

forms-of-life to the Esperanto of objectified “cultures,” “styles,”

“ways of life” and other relativist mysteries. What these wretches are

up to is, however, no mystery: they want to make us play the grand,

one-dimensional game of identities and differences. This is the

expression that the most rabid hostility toward forms-of-life takes.

9

In and of themselves, forms-of-life can be neither said nor described.

They can only be shown—each time, in an always singular context. On the

other hand, considered locally, the play between them obeys rigorous

signifying mechanisms. If they are thought, these determinisms are

transformed into rules which can then be amended. Each sequence of play

is bordered, on either edge, by an event. The event disorders the play

between forms- of-life, introduces a fold within it, suspends past

determinisms and inaugurates new ones through which it must be

reinterpreted. In all things, we start with and from the middle.

GLOSS α: The distance required for the description as such of a

form-of-life is, precisely, the distance of enmity.

GLOSS ÎČ: Every attempt to grasp a “people” as a form-of-life— as race,

class, ethnicity, or nation—has been undermined by the fact that the

ethical differences within each “people” have always been greater than

the ethical differences between “peoples” themselves.

10

Civil war is the free play of forms-of-life; it is the principle of

their coexistence.

11

War, because in each singular play between forms of-life, the

possibility of a fierce confrontation—the possibility of violence–can

never be discounted. Civil, because the confrontation between

forms-of-life is not like that between States—a coincidence between a

population and a territory— but like the confrontation between parties,

in the sense this word had before the advent of the modern State. And

because we must be precise from now on, we should say that forms-oflife

confront one another as partisan war machines.

Civil war, then, because forms-of-life know no separation between men

and women, political existence and bare life, civilians and military;

because whoever is neutral is still a party to the free play of

forms-of-life; because this play between formsof-life has no beginning

or end that can be declared, its only possible end being a physical end

of the world that precisely no one would be able to declare; and above

all because I know of no body that does not get hopelessly carried away

in the excessive, and perilous, course of the world.

GLOSS α: “Violence” is something new in history. We decadents are the

first to know this curious thing: violence. Traditional societies knew

of theft, blasphemy, parricide, abduction, sacrifice, insults and

revenge. Modern States, beyond the dilemma of adjudicating facts,

recognized only infractions of the Law and the penalties administered to

rectify them. But they certainly knew plenty about foreign wars and,

within their borders, the authoritarian disciplining of bodies. In fact,

only the timid atom of imperial society—Bloom—thinks of “violence” as a

radical and unique evil lurking behind countless masks, an evil which it

is so vitally important to identify, in order to eradicate it all the

more thoroughly. For us, ultimately, violence is what has been taken

from us, and today we need to take it back.

When Biopower starts speaking about traffic accidents as “violence on

the highways,” we begin to realize that for imperial society the term

violence only refers to its own vocation for death. This society has

forged this negative concept of violence in order to reject anything

within it that might still carry a certain intensity or charge. In an

increasingly explicit way, imperial society, in all its details,

experiences itself as violence. When this society hunts down violence

everywhere, it does nothing other than express its own desire to pass

away.

GLOSS ÎČ: THEY find speaking of civil war repugnant. But when THEY do it

anyway, THEY assign it a circumscribed place and time. Hence you have

the “civil war in France” (1871), in Spain (1936–39), the civil war in

Algeria and maybe soon in Europe. At this point one should mention that

the French, exhibiting the emasculation that comes so naturally to them,

translate the American “Civil War” as “The War of Secession.” They do so

to demonstrate their determination to side unconditionally with the

victor whenever the victor is also the State. The only way to lose this

habit of giving civil war a beginning, end and territorial limit—this

habit of making it an exception to the normal order of things rather

than considering its infinite metamorphoses in time and space—is to

shine a light on the sleight of hand it covers up.

Remember how those who wanted to suppress the guerilla war in Columbia

in the early ‘60s preemptively gave the name “la Violencia” (the

Violence) to the historical period they wanted to close out?

12

The point of view of civil war is the point of view of the political.

13

When, at a certain time and place, two bodies affected by the same

form-of-life meet, they experience an objective pact, which precedes any

decision. They experience community.

GLOSS α: The deprivation of such an experience in the West has caused it

to be haunted by the old metaphysical phantasm of the “human

community”—also known under the name Gemeinwesen by currents working in

the wake of Amadeo Bordiga. The Western intellectual is so far removed

from any access to a real community that he has to confect this amusing

little fetish: the human community. Whether he wears the Nazi-humanist

uniform of “human nature” or the hippy rags of anthropology, whether he

withdraws into a community whose power has been carefully disembodied, a

purely potential community, or dives head-first into the less subtle

concept of “total” man—through which all human predicates would be

totalized—it is always the same terror that is expressed: the terror of

having to think one’s singular, determined, finite situation; this

terror seeks refuge in the reassuring fantasy of totality or earthly

unity. The resulting abstraction might be called the multitude, global

civil society or the human species. What’s important is not the name,

but the operation performed. All the recent inanities about THE

cybercommunist community or THE cyber-total man would not have gotten

off the ground without a certain strategic opportunity that opened up at

the very moment a worldwide movement was forming to refute it. Let’s

remember that sociology was born at the very moment the most

irreconcilable conflict ever witnessed—the class struggle—emerged at the

heart of the social, and this discipline was born in the very country

where the struggle was most violent, in France in the second half of the

nineteenth century. It was born as a response to this struggle.

Today, when “society” is nothing more than a hypothesis, and hardly the

most plausible one at that, any claim to defend this society against the

supposed fascism lurking in every form of community is nothing more than

a rhetorical exercise steeped in bad faith. Who, after all, still speaks

of “society” other than the citizens of Empire, who have come or rather

huddled together against the self-evidence of Empire’s final implosion,

against the ontological obviousness of civil war?

14

There is no community except in singular relations. The community

doesn’t exist. There is only community, community that circulates.

15

There can be no community of those who are there.

16

When I encounter a body affected by the same form-of life as I am, this

is community, and it puts me in contact with my own power.

17

Sense is the element of the Common, that is, every event, as an

irruption of sense, institutes a common. The “body” that says “I,” in

truth says “We.”

A gesture or statement endowed with sense carves a determined community

out of a mass of bodies, a community that must itself be taken on in

order to take on this gesture or statement.

18

When two bodies animated by forms-of-life that are absolutely foreign to

one another meet at a certain moment and in a certain place, they

experience hostility. This type of encounter gives rise to no relation;

on the contrary, it bears witness to the original absence of relation.

The hostis can be identified and its situation can be known, but it

itself cannot be known for what it is, that is, in its singularity.

Hostility is therefore the impossibility for bodies that don’t go

together to know one another as singular.

Whenever a thing is known in its singularity, it takes leave of the

sphere of hostility and thereby becomes a friend—or an enemy.

19

For me, the hostis is a nothing that demands to be annihilated, either

through a cessation of hostility, or by ceasing to exist altogether.

20

A hostis can be annihilated, but the sphere of hostility itself cannot

be reduced to nothing. The imperial humanist who flatters himself by

declaring “nothing human is foreign to me” only reminds us how far he

had to go to become so foreign to himself.

21

Hostility is practiced in many ways, by different methods and with

varied results. The commodity or contractual relation, slander, rape,

insult, and pure and simple destruction all take their places

side-by-side as practices of reduction: even THEY understand this. Other

forms of hostility take more perverse and less obvious paths. Consider

potlatch, praise, politeness, prudence or even hospitality. These are

all what ONE rarely recognizes as so many practices of abasement, as

indeed they are.

GLOSS: In his Le vocabulaire des institutions indo-européennes,

Benveniste was incapable of explaining why the Latin word hostis could

simultaneously signify “foreigner,” “enemy,” “host,” “guest,” and “he

who has the same rights as the Roman people,” or even, “he who is bound

to me through potlatch,” i.e. the forced reciprocity of the gift.[4] It

is nevertheless clear that whether it be the sphere of law, the laws of

hospitality, flattening someone beneath a pile of gifts or an armed

offensive, there are many ways to erase the hostis, of making sure he

does not become a singularity for me. That is how I keep the hostis

foreign. It is our weakness that keeps us from admitting this. The third

article of Kant’s Towards Perpetual Peace, which proposes the conditions

for a final dissolution of particular communities and their subsequent

formal reintegration into a Universal State, is nevertheless unequivocal

in insisting that “Cosmopolitan right shall be limited to conditions of

universal hospitality.”[5] And just recently, didn’t Sebastian RochĂ©,

that unacknowledged creator of the idea of “incivility” and French

fanatic of zero tolerance, that hero of the impossible Republic, didn’t

he give his most recent (March 2000) book the Utopian title The Society

of Hospitality?[6] Does Sebastian Roché read Kant, Hobbes and the pages

of France-Soir, or does he simply read the mind of the French Interior

Minister?

22

Anything we usually blanket with the name “indifference” does not exist.

If I do not know a form- of-life and if it is therefore nothing to me,

then I am not even indifferent to it. If I do know it and it exists for

me as if it did not exist, it is in this case quite simply and clearly

hostile for me.

23

Hostility distances me from my own power.

24

Between the extremes of community and hostility lies the sphere of

friendship and enmity. Friendship and enmity are ethico-political

concepts. That they both give rise to an intense circulation of affects

only demonstrates that affective realities are works of art, that the

play between forms-of-life can be elaborated.

GLOSS α: In the stockpile of instruments deployed by the West against

all forms of community, one in particular has occupied, since around the

twelfth century, a privileged and yet unsuspected place. I am speaking

of the concept of love. We should acknowledge that the false alternative

it has managed to impose on everything—“do you love me, or not?”—has

been incredibly effective in masking, repressing, and crushing the whole

gamut of highly differentiated affects and all the crisply defined

degrees of intensity that can arise when bodies come into contact. In

this set of false alternatives, love has functioned as a way to reduce

the extreme possibility of an elaborate working out of the play among

forms-of-life. Undoubtedly, the ethical poverty of the present, which

amounts to a kind of permanent coercion into coupledom, is due largely

to this concept of love.

GLOSS ÎČ: To give proof, it would be enough to recall how, through the

entire process of “civilization,” the criminalization of all sorts of

passions accompanied the sanctification of love as the one true passion,

as the passion par excellence.

GLOSS Îł: All this of course goes only for the notion of love, not for

all those things it has given rise to, despite itself. I am speaking not

only of certain momentous perversions, but also of that little

projectile “I love you,” which is always an event.

25

I am bound to the friend by some experience of election, understanding

or decision that implies that the growth of his power entails the growth

of my own. Symmetrically, I am bound to the enemy by election, only this

time a disagreement that, in order for my power to grow, implies that I

confront him, that I undermine his forces.

GLOSS: This was the brilliant reply of Hannah Arendt to a Zionist who,

after the publication of Eichmann in Jerusalem and during the subsequent

scandal, reproached her for not loving the people of Israel: “I don’t

love peoples. I only love my friends.”

26

What is at stake in confronting the enemy is never its existence, only

its power, its potentiality. Not only can an annihilated enemy no longer

recognize its own defeat, it always ends up coming back to haunt us,

first as a ghost and later as hostis.

27

All differences among forms-of-life are ethical differences. These

differences authorize play, in all its forms. These kinds of play are

not political in themselves, but become political at a certain level of

intensity, that is, when they have been elaborated to a certain degree.

GLOSS: We reproach this world not for going to war too ferociously, nor

for trying to prevent it by all means; we only reproach it for reducing

war to its most empty and worthless forms.

28

I am not going to demonstrate the permanence of civil war with a

starry-eyed celebration of the most beautiful episodes of social war, or

by cataloguing all those moments when class antagonism achieved its

finest expressions. I am not going to talk about the English, Russian or

French revolutions, the Makhnovshchina, the Paris Commune, Gracchus

Babeuf, May ‘68 or even the Spanish Civil War. Historians will be

grateful: their livelihoods aren’t threatened. My method is more

twisted. I will show how civil war continues even when it is said to be

absent or provisionally brought under control. My task will be to

display the means used by the relentless process of depoliticization

that begins in the Middle Ages and continues up to today, just when, as

we all know, “everything is political” (Marx). In other words, the whole

will not be grasped by connecting the dots between historical summits,

but by following a low-level, unbroken, existential sequence.

GLOSS: If the end of the Middle Ages is sealed by the splitting of the

ethical element into two autonomous spheres, morality and politics, the

end of “Modern Times” is marked by the reunification of these two

abstract domains—as separate. This reunification gave us our new tyrant:

THE SOCIAL.

29

Naming can take two mutually hostile forms. One wards something off, the

other embraces it. Empire speaks of “civil wars” just as the Modern

State did, but it does so in order to better control the masses of those

who will give anything to avert civil war. I myself speak of “civil

war,” and even refer to it as a foundational fact. But I speak of civil

war in order to embrace it and to raise it to its highest forms. In

other words: according to my taste.

30

I call “communism” the real movement that elaborates, everywhere and at

every moment, civil war.

31

At the outset, my own objective will not be obvious. For those familiar

with it, it will be felt everywhere, and it will be completely absent

for those who don’t know a thing about it. Anyway, programs are only

good for putting off what they claim to promote. Kant’s criterion for a

maxim’s morality was that its public formulation not prevent its

realization. My own moral ambitions will therefore not exceed the

following formulation: spread a certain ethic of civil war, a certain

art of distances.

The Modern State, The Modern Subject

The history of the state formation in Europe is a history of the

neutralization of differences–denominational, social, and

otherwise–within the state.

– Carl Schmitt, “NeutralitĂ€t und Neutralisierungen”

32

The modern State is not defined as a set of institutions whose different

arrangements would provide a stimulating pluralism. The modern State,

insofar as it still exists, defines itself ethically as the theater of

operations for a twofold fiction: the fiction that when it comes to

forms-of-life both neutrality and centrality can exist.

GLOSS: We can recognize the fragile formations of power by their

relentless attempts to posit fictions as self-evident. Throughout Modern

Times, one of these fictions typically emerges as a neutral center,

setting the scene for all the others. Reason, Money, Justice, Science,

Man, Civilization, or Culture— with each there is the same

phantasmagoric tendency: to posit the existence of a center, and then

say that this center is ethically neutral. The State is thus the

historical condition for the flourishing of these insipid terms.

33

Etymologically the modern State stems from the Indo European root st-

which refers to fixity, to unchangeable things, to what is. More than a

few have been fooled by this sleight of hand. Today, when the State does

nothing more than outlive itself, the opposite becomes clear: it is

civil war—stasis in Greek—that is permanence, and the modern State will

have been a mere reaction process to this permanence.

GLOSS α: Contrary to what THEY would have us believe, the historicity

specific to the fictions of “modernity” is never that of a stability

gained once and for all, of a threshold finally surpassed, but precisely

that of a process of endless mobilization. Behind the inaugural dates of

the official historiography, behind the edifying epic tale of linear

progress, a continuous labor of reorganization, of correction, of

improvement, of papering over, of adjustment, and even sometimes of

costly reconstruction has never stopped taking place. This labor and its

repeated failures have given rise to the whole jittery junk heap of the

“new.” Modernity: not a stage where ONE comes to rest, but a task, an

imperative to modernize, frenetically and from crisis to crisis, only to

be finally overcome by our own fatigue and our own skepticism.

GLOSS ÎČ: “This state of affairs stems from a difference, which too often

goes unnoticed, between modern societies and ancient societies, with

regard to the notions of war and peace. The relation between the state

of peace and the state of war has been, if one compares the past to the

present, exactly reversed. For us peace is the normal state of affairs,

which warfare happens to interrupt; for the ancients, warfare is normal,

which peace happens to bring to an end.” –Émile Benveniste, Le

vocabulaire des institutions indo-européennes

34

In both theory and practice, the modern State came into being in order

to put an end to civil war, then called “wars of religion.” Therefore,

both historically and by its own admission, it is secondary vis-Ă -vis

civil war.

GLOSS: Bodin’s The Six Books of the Commonwealth [1576] was published

four years after the St. Bartholomew’s Day massacre, and Hobbes’

Leviathan of 1651 eleven years after the start of the Long Parliament.

The continuity of the modern State—from absolutism to the Welfare

State—shall be that of an endlessly unfinished war, waged against civil

war.

35

In the West, the unity of the traditional world was lost with the

Reformation and the “wars of religion” that followed. The modern State

then bursts on the scene with the task of reconstituting this

unity—secularized, this time—no longer as an organic whole but instead

as a mechanical whole, as a machine, as a conscious artificiality.

GLOSS α: What couldn’t help but ruin all organicity of customary

mediations during the Reformation was the gulf opened up by a doctrine

professing the strict separation between faith and deed, between the

kingdom of God and the kingdom of the world, between inner man and outer

man. The religious wars thus present the absurd spectacle of a world

that travels to the abyss just for having glimpsed it, of a harmony that

breaks apart under the pressure of a thousand absolute and

irreconcilable claims to wholeness. Indeed in this way, through

sectarian rivalries, religions introduce the idea of ethical plurality

despite themselves. But at this point civil war is still conceived by

those who bring it about as something that will soon end, so that

forms-of-life are not taken on but given over to conversion to this or

that existing patron. Since that time the various uprisings of the

Imaginary Party have taken it upon themselves to render obsolete

Nietzsche’s remark from 1882 that “the greatest progress of the masses

up till now has been the religious war, for it proves that the mass has

begun to treat concepts with respect.”[7]

GLOSS ÎČ: Having run its historical course, the modern State rediscovers

its old enemy: “sects.” But this time it is not the State that is the

ascendant political force.

36

The modern State put an end to the trouble that Protestantism first

visited on the world by taking over its very mission. By instituting the

fault between inner self and outer works identified by the Reformation,

the modern State managed to extinguish the civil wars “of religion,” and

with them the religions themselves.

GLOSS: Henceforth there shall be on the one hand an “absolutely free,”

private, moral conscience and on the other hand public, political action

“absolutely subject to State Reason.” And these two spheres shall be

distinct and independent. The modern State creates itself from nothing

by extracting from the traditional ethical tissue the morally neutral

space of political technique, sovereignty. Such creative gestures are

those of a mournful marionette. The further away men have moved from

this foundational moment, the more the meaning of the original act is

lost. It is this same calm hopelessness that shines through in the

classical maxim: cuius regio, eius religio.[8]

37

The modern State renders religions obsolete because it takes over for

them at the bedside of the most atavistic phantasm of metaphysics: the

One. From this point forward the order of the world will have to be

ceaselessly restored and maintained at all costs, even as it constantly

slips away from itself. Police and publicity[9] will be the purely

fictive techniques that the modern State will employ to artificially

maintain the fiction of the One. Its entire reality will be concentrated

in these techniques, through which it will ensure the maintenance of

Order, only now that of an outside order, a public order. And so all the

arguments it advances in its own defense will in the end boil down to

this: “Outside of me, disorder.” Quite untrue: without it, a

multiplicity of orders.

38

The modern State, which purports to put an end to civil war, is instead

its continuation by other means.

GLOSS α: Is it necessary to read Leviathan to know that “because the

major part hath by consenting voices declared a sovereign, he that

dissented must now consent with the rest, that is, be contented to avow

all the actions he shall do, or else justly be destroyed by the rest.

[...] And whether he be of the congregation or not, and whether his

consent be asked or not, he must either submit to their decrees or be

left in the condition of war he was in before, wherein he might without

injustice be destroyed by any man whatsoever.”[10] The fate of the

communards, of the Action Directe prisoners or the June 1848 insurgents

tells us plenty about the bloody origins of republics. Herein lies the

specific character of and obstacle to the modern State: it only persists

through the practice of the very thing it wants to ward off, through the

actualization of the very thing it claims to be absent. Cops know

something about this, paradoxically having to apply a “state of law,”

which in fact depends on them alone. Thus was the destiny of the modern

State: to arise first as the apparent victor of civil war, only then to

be vanquished by it; to have been in the end only a parenthesis, only

one party among others in the steady course of civil war.

GLOSS ÎČ: Wherever the modern State extended its reign, it exploited the

same arguments, using similar formulations. These formulations are

gathered together in their purest form and in their strictest logic in

the writings of Hobbes. This is why all those who have wanted to

confront the modern State have first had to grapple with this singular

theoretician. Even today, at the height of the movement to liquidate the

nationstate system, one hears open echoes “Hobbesianism.” Thus, as the

French government finally aligned itself with a model of imperial

decentralization during the convoluted affair of “Corsican autonomy,”

the government’s Interior Minister resigned his position with the

perfunctory pronouncement: “France does not need a new war of religion.”

39

What at the molar scale assumes the aspect of the modern State, is

called at the molecular scale the economic subject.

GLOSS α: We have reflected a great deal on the essence of the economy

and more specifically on its “black magic” aspects.[11] The economy

cannot be understood as a system of exchange, nor, therefore, as a

relation between forms-of-life, unless it is grasped ethically: the

economy as the production of a certain type of forms-of-life. The

economy appears well prior to the institutions typically used to signal

its emergence—the market, money, usury loans, division of labor—and it

appears as a kind of possession, that is, as possession by a psychic

economy. It is in this sense that the true black magic exists, and it is

only at this level that the economy is real and concrete. This is also

where its connection with the State is empirically observable. By

flaring up like this the State ends up progressively creating economy in

man, creating “Man” itself as an economic creature. With each

improvement to the State the economy in each of its subjects is improved

as well, and vice versa.

It would be easy to show how, over the course of the seventeenth century

the nascent modern State imposed a monetary economy and everything that

goes along with it in order to glean fuel for the rapid development of

its machinery and its relentless military campaigns. Such work has

already been performed elsewhere. But this approach only scratches the

surface of the linkage between the State and the economy.

The modern State means, among other things, a progressively increasing

monopoly on legitimate violence, a process whereby all other forms of

violence are delegitimized. The modern State serves the general process

of pacification which, since the end of the Middle Ages, only persists

through its continuous intensification. It is not simply that during

this evolution it always more drastically hinders the free play of

forms-of-life, but rather that it works assiduously to break them, to

tear them up, to extract bare life from them, an extraction that is the

very activity of “civilization.” In order to become a political subject

in the modern State, each body must submit to the machinery that will

make it such: it must begin by casting aside its passions (now

inappropriate), its tastes (now laughable), its penchants (now

contingent), endowing itself instead with interests, which are much more

presentable and, even better, representable. In this way, in order to

become a political subject each body must first carry out its own

autocastration as an economic subject. Ideally, the political subject

will thus be reduced to nothing more than a pure vote, a pure voice.

The essential function of the representation each society gives of

itself is to influence the way in which each body is represented to

itself, and through this to influence the structure of the psyche. The

modern State is therefore first of all the constitution of each body

into a molecular State, imbued with bodily integrity by way of

territorial integrity, molded into a closed entity within a self, as

much in opposition to the “exterior world” as to the tumultuous

associations of its own penchants—which it must contain—and in the end

required to comport itself with its peers as a good law-abiding subject,

to be dealt with, along with other bodies, according to the universal

proviso of a sort of private international law of “civilized” habits. In

this way the more societies constitute themselves in States, the more

their subjects embody the economy. They monitor themselves and each

other, they control their emotions, their movements, their inclinations,

and believe that they can expect the same self-control from others. They

make sure never to get carried away where it might prove fatal, and stay

cooped up in a room of their own where they can “let themselves go” at

their leisure. Sheltered there, withdrawn within their frontiers, they

calculate, they predict, they become a waypoint between past and future,

and tie their fate to the most probable link between the two. That’s it:

they link up, put themselves in chains and chain themselves to each

other, countering any type of excess. Fake selfcontrol, restraint,

self-regulation of the passions, extraction of a sphere of shame and

fear—bare life—the warding off of all formsof-life and a fortiori of any

play established between them.

And so the dense and doleful intimidation of the modern State produces

the economy, primitively and existentially, through a process that one

could trace back to the twelfth century, and to the establishment of the

first territorial courts. As Elias has pointed out exceedingly well, the

most emblematic example of this incorporation of the economy was the

induction of the warrior class into the society of the court, beginning

with the twelfth-century codes of courtly conduct, then primers on

civility, prudence, and manners, and finally with the rules of courtly

etiquette at Versailles, the first substantial realization of a

perfectly spectacular society in which all relations are mediated by

images. As with all the forms of wild abandon on which medieval

knighthood was founded, violence was slowly domesticated, that is,

isolated as such, deprived of its ritual form, rendered illogical, and

in the end cut down through mockery, through “ridicule,” through the

shame of fear and the fear of shame. Through the dissemination of this

self-restraint, this dread of getting carried away, the State succeeded

in creating the economic subject, in containing each being within its

Self, that is, within his body, in extracting bare life from each

form-of-life.

GLOSS ÎČ: “[T]he battlefield is, in a sense, moved within. Part of the

tensions and passions that were earlier directly released in the

struggle of man and man, must now be worked out within the human being.

[...] [T]he drives, the passionate affects, that can no longer directly

manifest themselves in the relationships between people, often struggle

no less violently within the individual against this supervising part of

themselves. And this semi-automatic struggle of the person with him or

herself does not always find a happy resolution” (Norbert Elias, “State

Formation and Civilization”).[12]

As has been witnessed throughout “Modern Times,” the individual produced

by this process of economic embodiment carries within him a crack. And

it is out of this crack that his bare life seeps. His acts themselves

are full of cracks, broken from the inside. No self-abandon, no act of

assumption can arise where the State’s campaign of pacification—its war

of annihilation directed against civil war—is unleashed. Here, instead

of forms-of-life, we find an overproduction branching out in all

directions, a nearly comical tree-like proliferation of subjectivities.

At this point converges the double misfortune of the economy and the

State: by caching civil war inside each person, the modern State put

everyone at war against himself. This is where we begin.

40

The founding act of the modern State—that is, not the first act but the

one it repeats over and over—is the institution of the fictitious split

between public and private, between political and moral. This is how it

manages to crack bodies open, how it grinds up forms-of-life. The move

to divide internal freedom and external submission, moral interiority

and political conduct, corresponds to the institution as such of bare

life.

GLOSS: We know from experience the terms of the Hobbesian transaction

between the subject and the sovereign: “I exchange my liberty for your

protection. As compensation for my unwavering obedience, you must offer

me safety.” Safety, which is first posed as a way to shelter oneself

from the prospect of death menaced by “others” takes on a whole new

dimension during the course of Leviathan. From Chapter xxx: “by safety

here is not meant a bare preservation, but also all other contentments

of life, which every man by lawful industry, without danger or hurt to

the commonwealth, shall acquire to himself.”[13]

41

Depending on the side of the crack from which it is seen, the State’s

method of neutralization sets up two chimerical, distinct and

interdependent monopolies: the monopoly of the political and the

monopoly of critique.

GLOSS A: Certainly on the one hand the State claims to assume the

monopoly of the political, of which the well-known expression “monopoly

on legitimate violence” is merely the most vulgar indication. For the

monopolization of the political requires the degradation of the

differentiated unity of a world into a nation, then to degrade this

nation into a population and a territory. It requires the disintegration

of the entire organic unity of traditional societies in order to then

submit the remaining fragments to a principle of organization. Finally,

after having reduced society to a “pure indistinct mass, to a multitude

decomposed into its atoms” (Hegel), the State assumes the role of artist

giving form to these raw materials, and this according to the legible

principle of the Law.[14]

On the other hand, the division between private and public gives rise to

this second unreality, which matches the unreality of the State:

critique. Of course it was Kant who crafted the general motto of

critique in his What is Enlightenment? Oddly enough the motto was also a

saying of Frederick II: “You are allowed to think as much as you want

and on whatever topic you wish; as long as you obey!” Mirroring the

political, “morally neutral” realm of State Reason, critique establishes

the moral, “politically neutral” realm of free usage of Reason. This is

what is meant by “publicity,” first identified with the “Republic of

Letters” but quickly appropriated as a State weapon against any rival

ethical fabric, be it the unbreakable bonds of traditional society, the

Cour des Miracles, or the language of the street. Thereafter another

abstraction would respond to the State’s abstract sphere of autonomous

politics: the critical sphere of autonomous discourse. And just as the

gestures of State reason had to be shrouded in silence, the idle chatter

and the flights of fancy of critical reason will have to be shrouded in

the condemnation of these gestures. Critique would therefore claim to be

all the purer and more radical the more it alienated itself from any

positive grounding for its own verbal fabrications. In exchange for

renouncing all its directly political claims, that is, in abdicating all

contestations of the State’s monopoly on politics, critique will be

granted a monopoly on morality. It will now have free reign to protest,

as long as it does not pretend to exist in any other way. Gesture

without discourse on the one hand and discourse without gesture on the

other—the State and Critique guarantee by the techniques specific to

each (police and publicity, respectively) the neutralization of every

ethical difference. This is how THEY conjured away, along with the free

play of forms-of-life, the political itself.

GLOSS ÎČ: After this it will come as little surprise that the most

successful masterpieces of critique appeared exactly where “citizens”

had been most fully deprived of access to the “political sphere,”

indeed, to the realm of practice as a whole; when all collective

existence had been placed under the heel of the State, I mean: under the

French and Prussian absolute monarchies of the eighteenth century. It

should scarcely surprise us that the country of the State would also be

the country of Critique, that France (for this is what we really mean)

would be in every way, and even often avowedly, so perfectly at home in

the eighteenth century. Given the contingency of our theater of

operations, we are not averse to mentioning the constancy of a national

character, which has been exhausted everywhere else. However, rather

than show how, generation after generation, for more than two centuries,

the State has produced critics and the critics have, in turn, produced

the State, I think it more instructive to reproduce descriptions of

preRevolutionary France made during the middle of the nineteenth

century, that is, shortly after the events, by a mind at once detestable

and quite shrewd:

“The government of the old regime had already taken away from the French

any possibility, or desire, of helping one another. When the Revolution

happened, one would have searched most of France in vain for ten men who

had the habit of acting in common in an orderly way, and taking care of

their own defense themselves; only the central power was supposed to

take care of it.”

“France [was] the European country where political life had been longest

and most completely extinct, where individuals had most completely lost

the practical skills, the ability to read facts, the experience of

popular movements, and almost the very idea of the people.”

“Since there no longer existed free institutions, and in consequence no

political classes, no living political bodies, no organized political

parties with leaders, and since in the absence of all these organized

forces the direction of public opinion, when public opinion was reborn,

devolved uniquely on the philosophes, it was to be expected that the

Revolution be directed less by certain particular facts than by abstract

principles and very general theories.”

“The very situation of these writers prepared them to like general and

abstract theories of government and to trust in them blindly. At the

almost infinite distance from practice in which they lived, no

experience tempered the ardors of their nature.”

“We had, however, preserved one liberty from the destruction of all the

others; we could philosophize almost without restraint on the origin of

societies, on the essential nature of government, and on the primordial

rights of the human species.”

All those injured by the daily practice of legislation soon took up this

form of literary politics.”

“Every public passion was thus wrapped up in philosophy; political life

was violently driven back into literature.”

And finally, at the end of the Revolution: “You will see an immense

central power, which has devoured all the bits of authority and

obedience which were formerly divided among a crowd of secondary powers,

orders, classes, professions, families, and individuals, scattered

throughout society.” –Alexis de Tocqueville, The Old Regime and the

Revolution, 1856[15]

42

If certain theses such as “the war of each against each” are elevated to

the level of governing principles, it is because they enable certain

operations. So in this specific case we should ask: How can the “war of

each against each” have begun before each person had been produced as

each. And then we will see how the modern State presupposes the state of

things that it produces; how it grounds the arbitrariness of its own

demands in anthropology; how the “war of each against each” is instead

the impoverished ethic of civil war imposed everywhere by the modern

State under the name of the economic, which is nothing other than the

universal reign of hostility.

GLOSS α: Hobbes used to joke about the circumstances of his birth,

claiming it was induced after his mother had experienced a sudden

fright: “Fear and I were born twins,” as he put it.[16] But to my mind

it makes more sense to attribute the wretchedness of the Hobbesian

anthropology to excessive reading of that moron Thucydides than to his

horoscope. So let us instead read the patter of our coward in a more

appropriate light:

“The true and perspicuous explication of the Elements of Laws, Natural

and Politic [...] dependeth upon the knowledge of what is human nature.”

“The comparison of the life of man to a race [holdeth]. [...] But this

race we must suppose to have no other goal, nor no other garland, but

being foremost.” — Hobbes, Human Nature, 1640[17]

“Hereby it is manifest that during the time men live without a common

power to keep them all in awe, they are in that condition which is

called war, and such a war as is of every man against every man. For WAR

consisteth not in battle only, or the act of fighting, but in a tract of

time wherein the will to contend by battle is sufficiently known.”

“Again, men have no pleasure, but on the contrary a great deal of grief,

in keeping company where there is no power able to overawe them all.” —

Hobbes, Leviathan[18]

GLOSS ÎČ: Here Hobbes gives us the anthropology of the modern State, a

positive albeit pessimistic anthropology, political albeit economic,

that of an atomized city-dweller: “when going to sleep, he locks his

doors,” and “when even in his house, he locks his chests”

(Leviathan).[19] Others have already shown how the State found it in its

political interest to overturn, during the last few decades of the

seventeenth century, the traditional ethics, to elevate avarice, the

economic passion, from the rank of private vice to that of social virtue

(cf. Albert O. Hirschmann). And just as this ethics, the ethics of

equivalence, is the most worthless ethics that men have ever shared, the

forms-of-life that correspond to it—the entrepreneur and the

consumer—have distinguished themselves by a worthlessness that has

become ever more pronounced with each passing century.

43

Rousseau thought he could confront Hobbes “on how the state of war

springs from the social.”[20] In so doing he proposed the Noble Savage

in place of the Englishman’s ignoble savage, one anthropology to replace

another, only this time an optimistic one. But the mistake here was not

the pessimism, it was the anthropology, and the desire to found a social

order on it.

GLOSS α: Hobbes did not develop his anthropology merely by observing the

problems of his age: the Fronde, the English Civil War, the nascent

absolutist State in France, and the difference between them. Travelogues

and other reports from New World explorers had been circulating for two

centuries already. Less inclined to take on faith “that the condition of

mere nature (that is to say, of absolute liberty, such as is theirs that

neither are sovereigns nor subjects) is anarchy, and the condition of

war,” Hobbes attributed the civil war that he observed in “civilized”

nations to a relapse into a state of nature that had to be averted using

any means possible.[21] The savages of America and their state of

nature, mentioned with horror in De Cive as well as in Leviathan,

furnished a repulsive illustration: those beings who “(except the

government of small families, the concord whereof dependeth on natural

lust) have no government at all, and live at this day in [a] brutish

manner” (Leviathan).[22]

GLOSS ÎČ: When one experiences thought in its barest form, the interval

between a question and its answer can sometimes span centuries. Thus it

was an anthropologist who, several months before killing himself, gave a

response to Hobbes. The age, having reached the other side of the river

of “Modern Times,” found itself fully enmeshed in Empire. The text

appeared in 1977 in the first issue of Libre under the title “Archeology

of Violence.” THEY tried to understand it, as well as the piece that

follows, “Sorrows of the Savage Warrior,” in isolation from the

confrontation during the same decade that pitted the urban guerrilla

against the old dilapidated structures of the bourgeois State,

independently from the Red Army Faction, independently from the Red

Brigades and the diffuse Autonomia movement.[23] And yet even with this

craven reservation, the texts of Clastres still create a disturbance.

“What is primitive society? It is a multiplicity of undivided

communities which all obey the same centrifugal logic. What institution

at once expresses and guarantees the permanence of this logic? It is

war, as the truth of relations between communities, as the principal

sociological means of promoting the centrifugal force of dispersion

against the centripetal force of unification. The war machine is the

motor of the social machine; the primitive social being relies entirely

on war, primitive society cannot survive without war. The more war there

is, the less unification there is, and the best enemy of the State is

war. Primitive society is society against the State in that it is

society-for-war.”

“Here we are once again brought back to the thought of Hobbes. [...] He

was able to see that war and the State are contradictory terms, that

they cannot exist together, that each implies the negation of the other:

war prevents the State, the State prevents war. The enormous error,

almost fatal amongst a man of this time, is to have believed that the

society which persists in war of each against each is not truly a

society; that the Savage world is not a social world; that, as a result,

the institution of society involves the end of war, the appearance of

the State, an anti-war machine par excellence. Incapable of thinking of

the primitive world as a nonnatural world, Hobbes nevertheless was the

first to see that one cannot think of war without the State, that one

must think of them in a relation of exclusion.”[24]

44

The inability of the State’s juridico-formal offensive to reduce civil

war is not a marginal detail rooted in the fact that there is always a

pleb to pacify, but appears centrally in the pacification procedure

itself. Organizations modeled after the State characterize as “formless”

that which within them derives in fact from the play of forms-of-life.

In the modern State, this irreducibility is attested to by the infinite

extension of the police, that is to say, of all that bears the

inadmissible burden of realizing the conditions of possibility of a

state order as vast as it is unworkable.

GLOSS α: Ever since the creation of the Paris Lieutenancy by Louis XIV,

the practices of police institutions have continuously shown how the

modern State has progressively created its own society. The police is

that force that intervenes “wherever things are amiss,” that is to say,

wherever antagonism appears between forms-oflife—wherever there is a

jump in political intensity. Using the arm of the police ostensibly to

protect the “social fabric,” while using another arm to destroy it, the

State then offers itself as an existentially neutral mediator between

the parties in question and imposes itself, even in its own coercive

excesses, as the pacified landscape for confrontation. It is thus,

according to the same old story, that the police produced public space

as a space that it has taken control of; that is how the language of the

State came to be applied to almost every social activity, how it became

the language of the social par excellence.

GLOSS ÎČ: “The aim of oversight and provisions on the part of the police

is to mediate between the individual [Individuum] and the universal

possibility which is available for the attainment of individual ends.

The police should provide for street-lighting, bridge-building, the

pricing of daily necessities, and public health. Two main views are

prevalent on this subject. One maintains that the police should have

oversight over everything, and the other maintains that the police

should have no say in such matters, since everyone will be guided in his

actions by the needs of others. The individual [der Einzelne] must

certainly have a right to earn his living in this way or that; but on

the other hand, the public also has a right to expect that necessary

tasks will be performed in the proper manner.” –Hegel, Elements of the

Philosophy of Right (Addition to paragraph 236), 1833[25]

45

At each moment of its existence, the police reminds the State of the

violence, the banality, and the darkness of its beginnings.

46

The modern State fails in three ways: first, as the absolutist State,

then as the liberal State, and soon after as the Welfare State. The

passage from one to the other can only be understood in relation to

three successive corresponding forms of civil war: the wars of religion,

class struggle, and the Imaginary Party. It should be noted that the

failure here is not in the result, but is the entire duration of the

process itself.

GLOSS α: Once the first moment of violent pacification had passed, and

the absolutist regime was established, the figure of the embodied

sovereign lived on as the useless symbol of a bygone war. Rather than

favoring pacification, the sovereign instead provoked confrontation,

defiance, and revolt. It was clear that the taking on of this singular

orm-of-life—“such is my pleasure”[26]—came at the cost of repressing all

the others. The liberal State corresponds to the surpassing of this

aporia, the aporia of personal sovereignty, but only the surpassing of

it on its own ground. The liberal State is a frugal State, which claims

to exist only to ensure the free play of individual liberties, and to

this end it begins by extorting interests from each body, so that it can

attach them to these bodies and reign peacefully across this new

abstract world: “the phenomenal republic of interests” (Foucault).[27]

It claims it exists only to keep things in good order, for the proper

functioning of “civil society,” which is absolutely a thing of its own

creation. Intriguingly, the glorious age of the liberal State,

stretching from 1815 to 1914, would come to coincide with a

multiplication of apparatuses of control, with the continuous monitoring

and widespread disciplining of the population, and with society’s

complete submission to the police and publicity. “I have drawn attention

to the fact that the development, dramatic rise, and dissemination

throughout society of these famous disciplinary techniques for taking

charge of the behavior of individuals day by day and in its fine detail

is exactly contemporaneous with the age of freedoms” (Foucault).[28]

Security is the primary condition of “individual freedom” (which means

nothing, because such a freedom must end where that of others begins).

The State that “wishes to govern just enough so that it can govern the

least” must in fact know everything, and it must develop a set of

practices and technologies to do it. The police and publicity are the

two agencies through which the liberal State gives transparency to the

fundamental opacity of the population. Witness here the insidious way in

which the liberal State will perfect the modern State, under the pretext

of needing to penetrate everywhere in order to avoid being everywhere in

actuality, that in order to leave its subjects alone it must know

everything. The principle of the liberal State could be stated like

this: “If control and discipline are everywhere, the State does not have

to be so.” “Government, initially limited to the function of

supervision, is only to intervene when it sees that something is not

happening according to the general mechanics of behavior, exchange, and

economic life. [...] The Panopticon is the very formula of liberal

government” (Foucault, Birth of Biopolitics).[29] “Civil society” is the

name given by the liberal State for that which is both its own product

and its own outside. It will not be surprising then to read that a study

on French “values” concludes (without seeming to sense the

contradiction) that in 1999 “the French are increasingly attached to

personal freedom and public order” (Le Monde, November 16, 2000). Among

the morons who respond to polls, that is, among those who still believe

in representation, the majority are unhappy, emasculated lovers of the

liberal State. In sum, “French civil society” only indicates the proper

functioning of the set of disciplines and regimes of subjectivization

authorized by the modern State.

GLOSS ÎČ: Imperialism and totalitarianism mark the two ways in which the

modern State tried to leap beyond its own impossibility, first by

slipping forward beyond its borders into colonial expansion, then by an

intensive deepening of the penetration inside its own borders. In both

cases, these desperate reactions from the State— which claimed to

encompass everything just as it was becoming nothing—came to a head in

the very forms of civil war the State claims preceded it.

47

Ultimately the “state-ification” of the social had to be paid for by the

socialization of the State, and thus lead to the mutual dissolution of

both the State and society. What THEY called the “Welfare State” was

this indistinction (between society and state) in which the obsolete

State-form survived for a little while within Empire. The

incompatibility between the state order and its procedures (the police

and publicity) expresses itself in the current efforts to dismantle the

Welfare State. And so, on the same note, society no longer exists, at

least in the sense of a differentiated whole. There is only a tangle of

norms and mechanisms through which THEY hold together the scattered

tatters of the global biopolitical fabric, through which they prevent

its violent disintegration. Empire is the administrator of this

desolation, the supreme manager of a process of listless implosion.

GLOSS α: There is an official history of the State in which the State

seems to be the one and only actor, in which the advances of the state

monopoly on the political are so many battles chalked up against an

enemy who is invisible, imaginary, and precisely without history. And

then there is a counter-history, written from the viewpoint of civil

war, in which the stakes of all these “advancements,” the dynamics of

the modern State, can be glimpsed. This counter-history reveals a

political monopoly that is constantly threatened by the recomposition of

autonomous worlds, of non-state collectivities. Whenever the State left

something to the “private” sphere, to “civil society,” whenever it

declared something to be insignificant, non-political, it left just

enough room for the free play of forms-of-life such that, from one

moment to the next, the monopoly on the political appears to be in

dispute. This is how the State is led, either slowly or in a violent

gesture, to encompass the totality of social activity, to take charge of

the totality of man’s existence. Thus, “the concept of the healthy

individual in the service of the State was replaced by that of the State

in the service of the healthy individual” (Foucault).[30] In France,

this reversal was already established prior to the law of April 9, 1898

governing “Accident Liability—In Which the Victims Are Workers

Practicing Their Profession” and a fortiori to the law of April 5, 1910

on retirement plans for peasants and laborers, which sanctioned the

right to life. In taking the place, over the centuries, of all the

heterogeneous mediations of traditional society, the State ended up with

the opposite of its aim, and ultimately fell prey to its own

impossibility. That which wanted to concentrate the monopoly of the

political ended up politicizing everything; all aspects of life had

become political, not in themselves as singular entities, but precisely

insofar as the State, by taking a position, had there too formed itself

into a party. Or how the State, in waging everywhere its war against

civil war, above all propagated hostility toward itself.

GLOSS ÎČ: The Welfare State, which first took over for the liberal State

within Empire, is the product of a massive diffusion of disciplines and

regimes of subjectivation peculiar to the liberal State. It arises at

the very moment when the concentration of these disciplines and these

regimes—for example with the widespread practice of risk

management—reaches such a degree in “society” that society is no longer

distinguishable from the State. Man had thus become socialized to such

an extent that the existence of a separate and personal State power

becomes an obstacle to pacification. Blooms are no longer subjects—not

economic subjects and even less legal subjects. They are creatures of

imperial society. This is why they must first be taken on as living

beings so that they may then continue existing fictitiously as legal

subjects.

Empire, Citizen

Therefore the sage takes his place over the people yet is no burden;

takes his place ahead of the people yet causes no obstruction. That is

why the empire supports him joyfully and never tires of doing so. It is

because he does not contend that no one in the empire is in a position

to contend with him.

– Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching

48

The history of the modern State is the history of its struggle against

its own impossibility—that is, the history of its being overwhelmed by

the profusion of techniques it has deployed to ward off this

impossibility. Empire is, to the contrary, the assumption of both this

impossibility and these techniques. To be more exact, we will say that

Empire is the turning inside out of the liberal State.

GLOSS α: We have, then, the official history of the modern State, namely

the grand juridico-formal narrative of sovereignty: centralization,

unification, rationalization. And also there is a counter-history, which

is the history of its impossibility. You have to look into this other

history—the growing mass of practices that must be adopted, the

apparatuses put in place to keep up the fiction—to grasp a genealogy of

Empire. In other words, the history of Empire does not take up where the

modern State leaves off. Empire is what, at a certain point in time

(let’s say 1914), allows the modern State to live on as a pure

appearance, as a lifeless form. The discontinuity here is not in the

passage from one order to another, but cuts across time like two

parallel but heterogeneous planes of consistency, just like the two

histories of the State.

GLOSS ÎČ: When we speak of a turning inside out, we are referring to the

final possibility of an exhausted system, which folds back onto itself

in order, in a mechanical fashion, to collapse in on itself.

The Outside becomes the Inside, and the Inside now has no limits. What

was formerly present in a certain defined place now becomes possible

everywhere. What is turned inside out no longer exists in a positive

way, in a concentrated form, but remains in a suspended state as far as

the eye can see. It is the final ruse of the system, the moment when it

is most vulnerable and, at the same time, most impervious to attack. The

operation whereby the liberal State is imperially folded back can be

described as follows: The liberal State developed two sub-institutional

practices that it used to control and keep at bay the population. On the

one hand, there was the police in the original sense of the term (“The

police keeps watch over the well-being of men [...] the police keeps

watch over the living” [N. De La Mare, TraitĂ© de la police, 1705]) and,

on the other hand, publicity, as a sphere equally accessible to all and

therefore independent of every form-of-life. Each of these instances or

agencies is in fact a set of practices and apparatuses with no real

continuity other than their convergent effects on the population—the

first on its “body,” the second on its “soul.” All that was needed to

consolidate power was to control the social definition of happiness and

to maintain order in the public sphere. These concerns allowed the

liberal State to remain thrifty. Throughout the eighteenth and

nineteenth centuries, the police and publicity developed in a way that

both served and yet exceeded the institutions of the nation-state. It is

only with World War I that they become the key nexus for how the liberal

State is folded up into Empire. Then we witness something curious. By

connecting them to each other in view of the war effort, and in a manner

largely independent of national States, these subinstitutional practices

give birth to the two super-institutional poles of Empire: the police

becomes Biopower, and publicity is transformed into the Spectacle. From

this point on, the State does not disappear, it is simply demoted

beneath a transterritorial set of autonomous practices: Spectacle,

Biopower.

GLOSS Îł: The liberal hypothesis collapses in 1914, at the end of the

“Hundred Years’ Peace” that resulted from the Congress of Vienna. When

the Bolshevik coup d’État occurred in 1917, each nation found itself

torn in two by the global class struggle, and all illusions about an

inter-national order had seen their day. In the global civil war, the

process of polarization penetrates the frontiers of the State. If any

order could still be glimpsed, it would have to be super-national.

GLOSS ή: If Empire is the assumption of the modern State’s

impossibility, it is also the assumption of the impossibility of

imperialism. Decolonization was an important moment in the establishment

of Empire, logically marked by the proliferation of puppet States.

Decolonization means: the elaboration of new forms of horizontal,

sub-institutional power that function better than the old ones.

49

The modern State’s sovereignty was fictional and personal. Imperial

sovereignty is pragmatic and impersonal. Unlike the modern State, Empire

can legitimately claim to be democratic, insofar as it neither banishes

nor privileges a priori any form-of-life.

And for good reason, since it is what assures the simultaneous

attenuation of all forms-of-life, as well as their free play within this

attenuation.

GLOSS α: Amidst the ruins of medieval society the modern State tried to

reconstitute this unity around the principle of representation—that is,

on the presumption that one part of society would be able to incarnate

the totality of society. The term “incarnate” is not used here

arbitrarily. The doctrine of the modern State explicitly secularizes one

of the most fearsome operations of Christian theology: the one whose

dogma is expressed by the Nicene Creed. Hobbes devotes a chapter to it

in the appendix of Leviathan. His theory of personal sovereignty is

based on the doctrine that makes the Father, Son and Holy Ghost the

three persons of God, “meaning that each can play its own role but also

that of the others.” This makes it possible for the Sovereign to be

defined as an actor on behalf of those who have decided to “appoint one

man or assembly of men to bear their person” and thus “every one to own

and acknowledge himself to be author of whatsoever he that so beareth

their person shall act, or cause to be acted, in those things which

concern the common peace and safety, and therein to submit their wills”

(Leviathan).[31] If, in the iconophilic theology of Nicea, Christ or the

icon manifests not the presence of God but his essential absence, his

sensible withdrawal, his unrepresentability, then for the modern State

the personal sovereign manifests the fictive withdrawal of “civil

society.” The modern State is conceived therefore as a part of society

that takes no part in society, and can for this reason represent it as a

whole.

GLOSS ÎČ: The various bourgeois revolutions never tampered with the

principle of personal sovereignty, insofar as an assembly or leader,

elected directly or indirectly, never deviated from the idea of a

possible representation of the social totality, i.e. of society as a

totality. As a result, the passage from the absolutist State to the

liberal State only managed to liquidate the one person—the King—who

liquidated the medieval order from which he emerged, and whose last

living vestige he seemed to be. It is only as an obstacle to his own

historical processes that the king was judged: he composed his own

sentence, his death the period at the end of it. Only the democratic

principle, promoted from within by the modern State, was able finally to

bring down the modern State. The democratic idea—the absolute

equivalence of all forms-oflife—is also an imperial idea. Democracy is

imperial to the extent that the equivalence among forms-of-life can only

be implemented negatively, by preventing, with all the means at its

disposal, ethical differences from attaining in their play an intensity

that makes them political. This would introduce lines of rupture,

alliances and discontinuities into the smooth space of demokratic

society that would ruin the equivalence of form-of-life. This is why

Empire and demokracy are nothing, positively, other than the free play

of attenuated forms-of-life, as when one speaks of an attenuated virus

that is used as a vaccine. In one of his only texts on the State, the

Critique of Hegel’s “Philosophy of Right” Marx in this way defended the

imperial perspective of the “material State,” which he opposed to the

“political State,” in the following terms:

“The political republic is democracy within the abstract form of the

state. Hence the abstract state-form of democracy is the republic.”

“Political life in the modern sense is the Scholasticism of popular

life. Monarchy is the fullest expression of this estrangement. The

republic is the negation of this estrangement within its own sphere.”

“[A]ll forms of the state have democracy for their truth, and for that

reason are false to the extent that they are not democracy.” “In true

democracy the political state disappears.”[32]

GLOSS Îł: Empire can only be understood through the biopolitical turn of

power. Like Biopower, Empire does not correspond to any positive

juridical framework, and is not a new institutional order. It instead

designates a reabsorption or retraction of the old substantial

sovereignty. Power has always circulated in microphysical, familiar,

everyday, material and linguistic apparatuses. It has always cut across

the life and bodies of subjects. What is novel about Biopower is that it

is nothing more than this. Biopower is a form of power that no longer

rises up over against “civil society” as a sovereign hypostasis, as a

Great Exterior Subject. It can no longer be isolated from society.

Biopower means only that power adheres to life and life to power. Thus,

from the perspective of its classical form, power is changing radically

before our eyes, from a solid to a gaseous, molecular state. To coin a

formula: Biopower is the SUBLIMATION of power. Empire cannot be

conceived outside of this understanding of our age. Empire is not and

cannot be a power separated from society. Society won’t stand for that,

just as it crushes the final remnants of classical politics with its

indifference. Empire is immanent to “society.” It is “society” insofar

as society is a power.

50

Empire exists “positively” only in crisis, only as negation and

reaction. If we too belong to Empire, it is only because it is

impossible to get outside it.

GLOSS α: The imperial regime of pan-inclusion always follows the same

plot: something, for whatever reason, manifests its foreignness to

Empire, or shows itself trying to escape from it, trying to have done

with it. This state of affairs constitutes a crisis, and Empire responds

with a state of emergency. It is at this passing moment, during one of

these reactive operations, that THEY can say: “Empire exists.”

GLOSS ÎČ: It is not that imperial society represents an achievement, a

plenitude without remainder. The space left free by the deposing of

personal sovereignty remains just that, empty vis-Ă -vis society. This

space, the place of the Prince, is currently occupied by the Nothing of

an imperial Principle that materializes and comes into focus only when

it strikes like lightning at anything pretending to remain outside of

it. This is why Empire is not only without a government, but also

without an emperor: there are only acts of government, all equally

negative. In our historical experience, the phenomenon that comes

closest to this state of affairs is still the Terror. Where “universal

freedom ... can produce neither a positive work nor a deed; there is

left for it only negative action; it is merely the fury of destruction”

(Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit, 359).

GLOSS Îł: Empire functions best when crisis is ubiquitous. Crisis is

Empire’s regular mode of existence, in the same way that an insurance

company comes into being only when there’s an accident. The temporality

of Empire is the temporality of emergency and catastrophe.

51

Empire is not the crowning achievement of a civilization, the end-point

of its ascendent arc. Rather it is the tail-end of an inward turning

process of disaggregation, as that which must check and if possible

arrest the process. Empire is therefore the katechon. “’Empire’ in this

sense meant the historical power to restrain the appearance of the

Antichrist and the end of the present eon” (Carl Schmitt, The Nomos of

the Earth, 59–60). Empire sees itself as the final bulwark against the

eruption of chaos, and acts with this minimal perspective in mind.

52

At first glance, Empire seems to be a parodie recollection of the

entire, frozen history of a “civilization.” And this impression has a

certain intuitive correctness. Empire is in fact civilization’s last

stop before it reaches the end of its line, the final agony in which it

sees its life pass before its eyes.

53

With the liberal State being turned inside out into Empire, ONE has

passed from a world partitioned by the Law to a space polarized by

norms. The Imaginary Party is the other, hidden side of this turning

inside out.

GLOSS α: What do we mean by Imaginary Party? That the Outside has moved

inside. This turning inside out happened noiselessly, peacefully, like a

thief in the night. At first glance, it seems nothing has changed, ONE

is simply struck by the sudden futility of so many familiar things, and

the old divisions that can no longer account for what is happening are

now suddenly so burdensome.

Some nagging little neurosis makes ONE still want to distinguish just

from unjust, healthy from sick, work from leisure, criminal from the

innocent and the ordinary from the monstrous. But let’s admit the

obvious: these old divisions no longer have any meaning.

It is not as if they have been suppressed, though. They are still there,

but they are inconsequential. The norm hasn’t abolished the Law, it has

merely voided the Law and commandeered it for its own purposes, putting

it in the service of its own immanent practices of calculation and

administration. When the Law enters the forcefield of the norm, it loses

the last vestiges of transcendence, from now on functioning only in a

land of indefinitely renewed state of exception.

The state of exception is the normal regime of the Law.

There is no visible Outside any more—nothing like a pure Nature, the

Madness of the classical age, the Great Crime of the classical age, or

the Great classical Proletariat with its actually-existing Homeland of

Justice and Liberty. These are all gone, mostly because they have lost

their imaginary force of attraction. The Outside is now gone precisely

because today there is exteriority at every point of the biopolitical

tissue. Madness, crime or the hungry proletariat no longer inhabit a

defined or recognized space, they no longer form a world unto

themselves, their own ghetto with or without walls. With the dissipation

of the social, these terms become reversible modalities, a violent

latency, a possibility each and every body might be capable of. This

suspicion is what justifies the continuous socialization of society, the

perfecting of the microapparatuses of control. Not that Biopower claims

to govern men and things directly—instead, it governs possibilities and

conditions of possibility.

Everything that had its source in the Outside—illegality, first of all,

but also misery and death—is administered and therefore taken up in an

integration that positively eliminates these exteriorities in order to

allow them to recirculate. This is why there is no such thing as death

within Biopower: there is only murder and its circulation. Through

statistics, an entire network of causalities embeds each living being in

the collection of deaths his own survival requires (the dropouts, the

unfortunate Indonesians, workplace accidents, Ethiopians of all ages,

celebrities killed in car crashes, etc.). But it is also in a medical

sense that death has become murder, with the proliferation of “brain

dead corpses,” these “living dead” who would have passed away a long

time ago if they weren’t kept alive artificially as organ banks for some

absurd transplant, if they weren’t being kept alive in order to be

passed away. The truth is that now there is no outside that can be

identified as such, since the threshold itself has become the intimate

condition of all that exists.

The Law sets up divisions and institutes distinctions, it circumscribes

what defies it and recognizes an orderly world to which it gives both

form and duration. The Law ceaselessly names and enumerates what it

outlaws. The Law says its outside. The inaugural gesture of the Law is

to exclude, and first of all its own foundation: sovereignty, violence.

But the norm has no sense of foundation. It has no memory, staying as

close as possible to the present, always claiming to be on the side of

immanence. While the Law gives a face and honors the sovereignty of what

is outside it, the norm is acephalous—headless—and is delighted every

time a king’s head gets cut off. The norm has no hieros, no place of its

own, acting invisibly over the entirety of the gridded, edgeless space

it distributes. No one is excluded here or expelled into some

identifiable outside. What is called “excluded” is, for the norm, just a

modality of a generalized inclusion. It is therefore no longer anything

but a single, solitary field, homogenous but diffracted into an infinity

of nuances, a regime of limitless integration that sets out to maintain

the play between forms-of-life at the lowest possible level of

intensity. In this space, an ungraspable agency of totalization reigns,

dissolving, digesting, absorbing and deactivating all alterity a priori.

A process of omnivorous immanentization—reducing everything to

nothing—deploys itself on a planetary scale. The goal: make the world

into continuous biopolitical tissue. And all this time, the norm stands

watch.

Under the regime of the norm, nothing is normal, but everything must be

normalized. What functions here is a positive paradigm of power. The

norm produces all that is, insofar as the norm is itself, as THEY say,

the ens realissimum. Whatever does not belong to its mode of unveiling

is not, and whatever is not cannot belong to its mode of unveiling.

Under the regime of the norm, negativity is never recognized as such,

but reduced to a simple default in relation to the norm, a hole to mend

into the global biopolitical tissue. Negativity, this power that is not

supposed to exist, is thus logically abandoned to a traceless

disappearance. Not without reason, since the Imaginary Party is the

Outside of the world without Outside, the essential discontinuity lodged

at the heart of a world rendered continuous.

The Imaginary Party is the seat, and the siege, of potentiality.

GLOSS ÎČ: There is no better illustration of how the norm has subsumed

the Law than to consider how the old territorial States of Europe

“abolished” their borders after the Schengen Agreement. This abolition

of borders, which is to say the abandonment of the most sacred aspect of

the modern State, does not mean of course that the States themselves

will disappear, but rather it signals the permanent possibility of their

restoration, if the circumstances demand it. In this sense, when borders

are abolished, customs checkpoints in no way disappear but are extended

to virtually all places and times. Under Empire borders come to resemble

what are called “mobile” customs checkpoints, which can be placed,

impromptu, at any point within a territory.

54

Empire has never had any juridical or institutional existence, because

it needs none. Unlike the modern State, which pretended to be an order

of Law and of Institutions, Empire is the guarantor of a reticular

proliferation of norms and apparatuses. Under normal circumstances,

Empire is these apparatuses.

GLOSS α: Every time Empire intervenes, it leaves behind norms and

apparatuses that allow the crisis site to be managed as a transparent

space of circulation. This is how imperial society makes itself known:

as an immense articulation of apparatuses that pump an electrical life

into the fundamental inertia of the biopolitical tissue. Because the

reticular gridwork of imperial society is always threatened with

breakdowns, accidents and blockages, Empire makes sure to eliminate

resistances to circulation, liquidating all obstacles to penetration,

making everything transparent to social flows. Empire is also what

secures transactions and guarantees what might be called a social

superconductivity. This is why Empire has no center: it makes it

possible for each node of its network to be a center. All we can ever

make out along the global assemblage of local apparatuses are the

condensations of forces and the deployment of negative operations that

ensure the progress of imperial transparency. Spectacle and Biopower

assure not just the intensive continuity of flows, but the transitive

normalization— their being made equivalent—of all situations as well.

GLOSS ÎČ: There are no doubt “overwhelmed” zones where imperial control

is denser than elsewhere, where each small segment of what exists pays

its due to the general panopticism, and where at a certain point the

population can no longer be distinguished from the police. Inversely,

there are also zones where Empire seems absent and lets everyone know it

“doesn’t dare set foot there.” This is because it calculates, weighs,

evaluates and then decides to be here or there, to show up or withdraw,

all for tactical reasons. Empire is not everywhere, and nowhere is it

absent. Unlike the modern State, Empire has no interest in being the

summit, in being the always visible and resplendent sovereign. Empire

only claims to be the last resort in each situation. Just as there is

nothing natural about a “nature park” created by the administrators of

artificialization who have decided it is preferable to leave it

“intact,” so too Empire is present even when it is effectively absent,

present as withdrawn. Empire is such that it can be everywhere. It

resides in each point of the territory, in the gap between normal and

exceptional situations. Empire has the power to be weak.

GLOSS Îł: The logic of the modern State is a logic of the Law and the

Institution. Institutions and the Law are deterritorialized and, in

principle, abstract. In this way, they distinguish themselves from the

customs they replace, customs which are always local, ethically

permeated, and always open to existential contestation. Institutions and

the Law loom over men, their permanence drawn from their transcendence,

from their own inhuman self-assertion. Institutions, like the Law,

establish lines of partition and give names in order to separate and put

things in order, putting an end to the chaos of the world, or rather

corralling chaos into the delimited space of the unauthorized— Crime,

Madness, Rebellion. And both Law and Institutions are united in the fact

that neither has any need to justify itself to anyone, no matter what.

“The Law is the Law,” says the man.

Even if it does not mind using them as weapons, as it does with

everything else, Empire knows nothing about the abstract logic of the

Law and the Institution. Empire knows only norms and apparatuses. Like

apparatuses, norms are local. They take effect in the here and now

insofar as they function, empirically. Norms hide neither their origin

nor their reason for existing—these are to be found outside the norms

themselves, in the conflicts which give rise to them. What is essential

today is not some preliminary declaration of universality that would

then strive to enforce itself. Attention must be paid to operations, to

the pragmatic. There is indeed a totalization here as well, but it does

not emerge out of a desire for universalization. It takes place through

the articulation of apparatuses, through the continuity of the

circulation between them.

GLOSS ÎŽ: Under Empire we witness a proliferation of the legal, a chronic

boom in juridical production. This proliferation, far from confirming

some sort of triumph of the Law instead verifies its total devaluation,

its definitive obsolescence. Under the regime of the norm, the Law

becomes but one instrument among many for retroactively acting on

society, an instrument that can be as easily customized—and subject to

reversal of sense—as all the others. It is a technique of government, a

way of putting an end to a crisis, nothing more. What the modern State

elevated to the sole source of right—the Law—is now nothing more than

one of the expressions of the social norm. Even judges no longer have

the subordinate task of qualifying facts and applying the Law, but the

sovereign function of evaluating the opportunity such and such a

judgment affords. The vagueness of laws, which increasingly have

recourse to the nebulous criteria of normality, are no longer seen as

hindering the laws’ effectiveness; to the contrary, this vagueness

becomes a condition for the survival of these laws and for their

applicability to any and every case that might come before them. When

judges “legislate from the bench” and the social is increasingly

juridicized, they are doing nothing other than ruling in the name of the

norm. Under Empire, an “anti-mafia” trial does nothing but celebrate the

triumph of one mafia—the judges—over another—the judged. Here, the

sphere of Law has become one weapon among others in the universal

deployment of hostility. If Blooms can only connect and torture one

another in the legal terms, Empire by contrast doesn’t take well to this

same language, nevertheless making use of it from time to time when the

opportunity is right; and even then it continues to speak the only

language it knows, the language of effectiveness, of the effective

capacity to re-establish the normal situation, to produce public order,

the smooth general functioning of the Machine. Two increasingly similar

figures of this sovereignty of effectiveness make their presence felt

thus in the very convergence of their functions: the cop and the doctor.

GLOSS Δ: “The law should be used as just another weapon in the

government’s arsenal, and in this case it becomes little more than a

propaganda cover for the disposal of unwanted members of the public. For

this to happen efficiently, the activities of the legal services have to

be tied into the war effort in as discreet a way as possible.” –Frank

Kitson, Low Intensity Operations: Subversion, Insurgency, Peace-Keeping

(1971).

55

“Citizen” is anything that shows some degree of ethical neutralization,

some attenuation that is compatible with Empire. Difference is not done

away with completely, as long as it is expressed against the backdrop of

a general equivalence. Indeed, difference is the elementary unit used in

the imperial management of identities. If the modern State reigned over

the “phenomenal republic of interests,”[33] Empire can be said to reign

over the phenomenal republic of differences. It is through this

depressing masquerade that all expressions of forms-of-life get conjured

away. Imperial power stays impersonal because it has the power that

personalizes. Imperial power totalizes because it is itself what

individuates. We are dealing not so much with individualities and

subjectivities, but with individuations and subjectivations— transitory,

disposable, modular. Empire is the free play of simulacra.

GLOSS α: Empire’s unity is not imposed on reality as an extra,

supplementary form. It comes about at the lowest level, on a molecular

scale. The unity of Empire is nothing other than the global uniformity

of attenuated forms-of-life produced through the conjunction of

Spectacle and Biopower. Its unity is more a moiré pattern than

multicolored: made up of differences, but only in relation to the norm.

Normalized differences. Statistical deviations. Under Empire, nothing

forbids you from being a little bit punk, slightly cynical, or

moderately S & M. Empire tolerates all transgressions, provided they

remain soft. We are no longer dealing with a voluntaristic a priori

totalization, but with molecular calibrations of subjectivities and

bodies. “[A]s power becomes more anonymous and more functional, those on

whom it is exercised tend to be more strongly individualized” (Foucault,

Discipline and Punish).[34]

GLOSS ÎČ:

“And the whole inhabited world, as it were attending a national

festival, has laid aside its old dress, the carrying of weapons, and has

turned, with full authority to do so, to adornments and all kinds of

pleasures. And all the other sources of contention have died out in the

cities, but this single rivalry holds all of them, how each will appear

as fair and charming as possible. Everything is full of gymnasiums,

fountains, gateways, temples, handicrafts, and schools. And it can be

said in medical terms that the inhabited world was, as it were, ill at

the start and has now recovered. [...] the whole earth has been adorned

like a pleasure garden. Gone beyond land and sea is the smoke rising

from the fields and the signal fires of friend and foe, as if a breeze

had fanned them away. There has been introduced instead every kind of

charming spectacle and a boundless number of games. [...] Therefore

those outside your empire, if there are any, alone should be pitied

since they are deprived of such advantages.” –Aelius Aristides,

“Regarding Rome,” 144 CE

56

From here on out, citizen will mean: citizen of Empire.

GLOSS: In the Roman empire, citizenship was not limited to Romans. It

was open to anyone who, in each province of the Empire, demonstrated a

sufficient ethical conformity with the Roman model. Citizenship, in its

juridical sense, merely corresponded to someone’s own labor of

self-neutralization. As you can see, the term “citizen” does not belong

to the language of the Law, but to that of the norm. All appeals to the

citizen are, and have been since the French Revolution, emergency

measures: a practice that corresponds with a state of exception (“the

Homeland is in danger,” “the Republic is threatened,” etc.). The appeal

to the citizen is therefore never an appeal to a legal subject, but an

injunction imposed on the legal subject to go beyond itself and give up

its life, to behave in an exemplary fashion, and to be more than a legal

subject in order to remain one.

57

The only thought compatible with Empire—when it is not sanctioned as its

official thought—is deconstruction. Those who celebrated it as “weak

thought” were right on target. Deconstruction is a discursive practice

guided by one unique goal: to dissolve and disqualify all intensity,

while never producing any itself.

GLOSS: Nietzsche, Artaud, Schmitt, Hegel, Saint Paul, German

romanticism, and surrealism: deconstruction’s task is, apparently, to

produce fastidious commentaries targeting anything that, in the history

of thought, has carried any intense charge. This new form of policing

that pretends to be a simple extension of literary criticism beyond its

date of expiration is, in fact, quite effective in its own domain. It

won’t be long before it has managed to rope off and quarantine

everything from the past that is still a little virulent within a cordon

sanitaire of digressions, reservations, language games and winks, using

its tedious tomes to prevent the prolongation of thought into gesture—in

short, to struggle tooth and nail against the event. No surprise that

this wave of global prattle emerged out of a critique of metaphysics

understood as privileging the “simple and immediate” presence of speech

over writing, of life over the text and its multiplicity of

significations. It would certainly be possible to interpret

deconstruction as a simple Bloomesque reaction. The deconstructionist,

incapable of having an effect on even the smallest detail of his world,

being literally almost no longer in the world and having made absence

his permanent mode of being, tries to embrace his Bloomhood with

bravado. He shuts himself up in that narrow, closed circle of realities

that still affect him at all—books, texts, films, and music—because

these things are as insubstantial as he is. He can no longer see

anything in what he reads that might relate to life, and instead sees

what he lives as a tissue of references to what he has already read.

Presence and the world as a whole, insofar as Empire allows, are for him

purely hypothetical. Reality and experience are for him nothing more

than dubious appeals to authority. There is something militant about

deconstruction, a militancy of absence, an offensive retreat into the

closed but indefinitely recombinable world of significations. Indeed,

beneath an appearance of complacency, deconstruction has a very specific

political function. It tries to pass off anything that violently opposes

Empire as barbaric, it deems mystical anyone who takes his own presence

to self as a source of energy for his revolt, and makes anyone who

follows the vitality of thought with a gesture a fascist. For these

sectarian agents of preventive counter-revolution, the only thing that

matters is the extension of the epochal suspension that fuels them.

Immediacy, as Hegel has already explained, is the most abstract

determination. And our deconstructionists know well that the future of

Hegel is Empire.

58

Empire perceives civil war neither as an affront to its majesty nor as a

challenge to its omnipotence, but simply as a risk. This explains the

preventive counter-revolution that Empire continues to wage against

anyone who might puncture holes in the biopolitical continuum. Unlike

the modern State, Empire does not deny the existence of civil war.

Instead, it manages it. By admitting the existence of civil war, Empire

furnishes itself with certain convenient means to steer or contain it.

Wherever its networks are insufficiently intrusive, it will ally itself

for as long as it takes with some local mafia or even a local guerilla

group, on the condition that these parties guarantee they will maintain

order in the territory they have been assigned. Nothing matters less to

Empire than the question, “who controls what?”—provided, of course, that

control has been established. As a result, not reacting is, in this way,

still a reaction.

GLOSS α: It is amusing to see the absurd contortions Empire’s incursions

require of those who want to oppose Empire but are skittish of outright

civil war. The imperial operation in Kosovo was not directed against the

Serbs but against civil war itself, having become all too visible in the

Balkans. And so the good souls of the world, compelled to take a

position, were forced to side with either NATO or Milosevic.

GLOSS ÎČ: On the heels of Genoa and its scenes of Chilean-style

repression, a high-ranking official of the Italian police offered this

touching admission to La Repubblica: “Look, I’m going to tell you

something that’s not easy for me and that I have never told anyone.

[...] The police aren’t there to put things in order, but to govern

disorder.”

59

Ideally, the cybernetic reduction would posit Bloom as a transparent

conductor of social information. Empire would gladly represent itself,

then, as a network in which everyone would be a node. In each of these

nodes, the norm makes up the element of social conductivity. Even before

the circulation of information, a biopolitical causality passes through

it with more or less resistance, depending upon the gradient of

normality. Each node—country, body, firm, political party—is held

responsible for its resistance. This is even the case to the point of

the absolute non-conductivity, to the point of the refraction of flows.

The node in question will then be declared guilty, criminal, inhuman,

and will become the object of an imperial intervention.

GLOSS α: Because no one is ever depersonalized enough to be a perfect

conductor of these social flows, everyone is alwaysalready, as the very

condition of survival, at fault in the eyes of the norm, a norm that

will only be established after the fact, after the intervention. We call

this state a blank blame.[35] It is the moral condition of the citizen

of Empire. It is the reason why there are, in fact, no citizens, but

only proofs of citizenship.

GLOSS ÎČ: The networks informality, plasticity, and opportunistic

incompleteness offer a model of weak solidarity from whose loose bonds

imperial “society” is woven.

GLOSS Îł: What is finally made clear by the planetary circulation of

responsibility—when the world is cross-examined to the point where even

“natural disasters” are perpetrated by some guilty party—is how all

causality is essentially constructed.

GLOSS ή: Empire has the habit of launching “public awareness campaigns.”

These amount to a deliberate heightening of the sensitivity of those

social sensors alert to this or that phenomenon—that is, in the creation

of this phenomenon as a phenomenon, and in the construction of the

causal chains that allow for its materialization.

60

The jurisdiction of the imperial police, of Biopower is limitless, since

what it must circumscribe and put a stop to does not exist at the level

of the actual but at the level of the possible. The discretionary power

here is called prevention and the risk factor is this possible, existing

everywhere in actuality as possible, which is the basis for Empire’s

universal right to intervene.

GLOSS α: The enemy of Empire is within. The enemy is the event. It is

everything that might happen, everything that might disturb the mesh of

norms and apparatuses. Logically therefore the enemy, in the form of

risk, is omnipresent. And concern is the only acknowledged reason for

the brutal imperial interventions against the Imaginary Party: “Look how

ready we are to protect you, since as soon as something exceptional

happens—obviously without taking into account quaint customs like law or

jurisprudence—we are going to intervene using any means necessary”

(Foucault). GLOSS ÎČ: There is obviously a certain Ubuesque quality to

imperial power, which paradoxically seems ill-fit to undermine the

effectiveness of the Machine. In the same way, there is a baroque aspect

to the juridical framework under which we live. In fact, it seems vital

to Empire that it maintain a certain amount of permanent confusion

around enforced rules, rights, and the various authorities and their

competencies. It is this confusion that enables Empire to deploy, when

the time comes, any means necessary.

61

It is no use distinguishing between cops and citizens. Under Empire, the

difference between the police and the population is abolished. At any

moment each citizen of Empire can, through a characteristically

Bloomesque reversal, reveal himself a cop.

GLOSS α: Foucault dates back to the second half of the eighteenth

century the origin of the idea that “the delinquent is the enemy of

society as a whole.” Under Empire, this notion extends to the totality

of the reconstructed social cadaver. Both for himself and for others,

and in virtue of his status as blank blame, each person is a risk, a

potential hostis. This kind of schizoid situation explains the revival,

under Empire, of mutual monitoring and informing, of policing both

within and among citizens. For it is not only that the citizens of

Empire denounce anything that seems “abnormal” to them with such fervor

that even the police can no longer keep up, it is that they sometimes

denounce themselves in order to have done with the blank blame they

feel, so that their still unresolved status, and the uncertainty as to

their membership within the biopolitical tissue, might be cleared up

with the fell swoop of judgment. And it is through this mechanism of

generalized terror that all risky dividuals are everywhere pushed out,

quarantined, spontaneously isolated—all those who, being subject to

imperial intervention, could bring down with them, through capillary

action, the adjoining links in the network.

GLOSS ÎČ:

“—How would you define the police?

The police come from the public and the public forms a part of the

police. Those on the police force are paid to devote all their time to

carrying out their duties, but these duties are equally those of all

their fellow citizens.

—What is the primary role of the police?

They have an expanded mission, focused on the resolution of problems,

what is known as ‘problem-solving policing.’

—How do you measure the effectiveness of the police?

The lack of crime and lawlessness.

—What specifically do the police take care of?

The problems and concerns of the citizens.

—What determines the effectiveness of the police?

The cooperation of the public.

—How do you define professionalism in a police force?

An ability to remain in contact with the population in order to

anticipate problems.

—What opinion do the police have of judicial proceedings?

They are one means among many.”

–Jean-Paul Brodeur, Professor of Criminology, MontrĂ©al. Quoted in Guide

pratique de la police de proximité [Practical Guide to Community

Policing], Paris, March 2000.

62

Imperial sovereignty means that no point of space or time and no element

of the biopolitical tissue is safe from intervention. The electronic

archiving of the world, generalized traceability, the fact that the

means of production are becoming just as much a means of control, the

reduction of the juridical edifice to a mere weapon in the arsenal of

the norm—all this tends to turn everyone into a suspect.

GLOSS: A portable phone becomes a black box, a mode of payment a record

of your buying habits, your parents turn into snitches, a telephone bill

becomes a file on your acquaintances: the whole overproduction of

useless personal information ends up being critically important simply

because at any moment it is usable. This available is what bathes every

gesture in the shadow of threat. That Empire leaves this information

relatively unexploited indicates precisely its own sense of security,

how little, for now, it feels threatened.

63

Empire is scarcely thought, and perhaps hardly thinkable, within the

western tradition, that is, within the limits of the metaphysics of

subjectivity. The best THEY have been able to do is to think the

surpassing of the modern State on its own grounds. This has spawned a

number of unsustainable projects for a universal State, whether in the

form of the speculations on cosmopolitan right that would establish

perpetual peace, or as the ridiculous hope for a global democratic

state, which is the ultimate goal of Negriism.

GLOSS α: Those who cannot manage to imagine the world except through the

categories allotted to them by the liberal State, commonly pretend to

confuse Empire, here denounced as “globalization,” with one or another

super-national organization (the IMF, the World Bank, the wto or the UN,

or less often NATO and the European Commission). From counter-summit to

countersummit, we see our “anti-globalization” movement consumed more

and more by doubt: What if inside these pompous edifices, behind these

proud facades, there WAS NOTHING? Intuitively they realize that these

grand global shells are empty, and this is, moreover, why they besiege

them. These palace walls are made from nothing but good intentions. They

were constructed each in their time as a reaction to some world crisis,

and since then have been left there, uninhabited, unusable for anything,

to serve, for example, as a decoy for the dissenting herds of Negriism.

GLOSS ÎČ: It is hard to understand what someone is driving at when, after

a lifetime of disavowals, he asserts in an article tided “’Empire,’ The

Ultimate Stage of Imperialism” that “in the current imperial phase,

there is no more imperialism,”[36] or when he proclaims that the

dialectic is dead and that we must “theorize and act both within and

against Empire at the same time”: someone who takes by turns the

masochist’s position of demanding that these institutions dissolve

themselves and that of imploring them to exist. And so, one should not

begin with his writings, but with what he has actually done. Even when

it comes to understanding a book like Empire—a certain variety of

theoretical mishmash that achieves in thought the same ultimate

reconciliation of all incompatibilities that Empire dreams of realizing

in deeds—it is more instructive to observe the practices that claim to

represent it. In this way, in the discourse of the spectacular

bureaucrats of the White Overalls, the phrase “people of Seattle” has

been replaced, for some time now, with “multitude.” “The people,” Hobbes

reminds us, “is somewhat that is one, having one will, and to whom one

action may be attributed; none of these can properly be said of a

multitude. The people rules in all governments. For even in monarchies

the people commands; for the people wills by the will of one man; but

the multitude are citizens, that is to say, subjects. In a democracy and

aristocracy, the citizens are the multitude, but the court is the

people.”[37] The entire Negrian perspective boils down to this: to force

Empire to take on the form of a universal State, by staging the

emergence of a so-called “global civil society.” Coming from people who

have always aspired to hold institutional positions, who thus have

always pretended to believe in the fiction of the modern State, the

absurdity of this strategy becomes clear; and the evidence to the

contrary in Empire itself acquires historical significance. When Negri

asserts that the multitude produced Empire, that “sovereignty has taken

a new form, composed of national and supranational organisms united

under a single logic of rule,” that “Empire is the political subject

that effectively regulates these global exchanges, the sovereign power

that governs the world,” or again that “[t]his order is expressed as a

juridical formation,” he gives an account, not of the world around him,

but of his own ambitions.[38] The Negrians want Empire to take a

juridical form, they want to have a personal sovereignty sitting across

from them, an institutional subject with which to enter into contract or

take over power. The “global civil society” that they call for merely

betrays their desire for a global State. Sure, they proffer some proof,

or what they believe to be proof, for the existence of a coming

universal order: the imperial interventions in Kosovo, in Somalia, or in

the Gulf, and their spectacular legitimization in “universal values.”

But even if Empire could endow itself with a fake institutional facade,

its actual reality would still remain concentrated in worldwide police

and publicity, or, respectively, Biopower and Spectacle. The fact that

the imperial wars present themselves as “international police

operations” implemented by “intervention forces,” the fact that war

itself is put outside the law by a form of domination that wants to pass

off its own military offensives as little more than domestic

administration, that is, as a police and not a political matter—to

ensure “tranquility, security, and order”—all this Schmitt had already

anticipated sixty years ago, and in no way does it contribute to the

gradual development of a “right of the police,” as Negri would like to

believe. The momentary spectacular consensus against this or that “rogue

State,” this or that “dictator” or “terrorist” only validates the

temporary and reversible legitimacy of any imperial intervention that

appeals to this consensus. The restaging of degraded Nuremberg Trials

for any and every reason, the unilateral decision made by the national

judiciaries to judge crimes that have taken place in countries where the

judiciaries are not even recognized as such does not confirm the

advancement of a nascent global right, but the complete subordination of

the juridical order to a state of emergency wrought by the police. In

conditions like this, it is not a question of agitating in support of a

salutary universal State, but instead of demolishing Spectacle and

Biopower.

64

As we are beginning to recognize, imperial domination can be described

as neotaoist, since it is only in this tradition that it has been

completely thought through. Twentythree centuries ago a Taoist

theoretician asserted the following: “Means the sage employs to lead to

political order are three. The first is said to be profit; the second,

authority; and the third, fame. Profit is the means whereby the people’s

hearts are won; authority is the means whereby to enforce orders;

denomination is the common way linking superior and inferior. [...] this

can be said to abolish government by means of government, abolish words

by means of words.”[39] Mincing no words, he concluded: “In the perfect

government, inferiors have no virtue” (Han Fei Tzu).[40] Indeed

government is quite likely perfected.

GLOSS: There are those who have wanted to describe the imperial period

as a time of slaves without masters. Even if this is not entirely false,

it would be better to describe it as a time of Mastery without masters,

of the nonexistent sovereign, like Calvino’s nonexistent knight, who was

nothing but an empty suit of armor. The place of the Prince remains,

invisibly occupied by the principle. There is in this both an absolute

rupture with and a fulfillment of the old personal sovereignty: the

Master’s greatest dismay has always been to have nothing but slaves for

subjects. The reigning Principle carries off the paradox to which

substantive sovereignty had had to yield: to have one’s slaves be free

men. This empty sovereignty is not, properly speaking, an historical

novelty, even if it is in the West. The task here is to break with the

metaphysics of subjectivity. The Chinese, who established themselves

outside of the metaphysics of subjectivity between the sixth and third

century BCE, at that time formed a theory of impersonal sovereignty that

is not unhelpful for understanding the current motives of imperial

domination. Closely associated with this theory is the name of Han Fei

Tzu, the key figure in the school known as “legalism,” although this is

misleading as his contributions concern more the norm than the Law. His

teachings, today collected under the title “The Tao of the Sovereign,”

are what motivated the founding of the first truly unified Chinese

Empire, and what brought an end to the period of the “Warring States.”

Once the Empire was established, the Emperor, the Ch’in sovereign, had

the works of Han Fei burned in 213 BCE. Only in the twentieth century

was the text unearthed, a text that had prescribed the practices of the

Chinese Empire at the very moment it was collapsing.

Han Fei’s Prince, he who holds the Position, is Prince solely because of

his impersonality, because of his absence of qualities, because of his

invisibility, his inactivity; he is only Prince to the extent that he is

absorbed in the Tao, into the Way, into the flow of things. He is not a

Prince in the sense of a person, he is a Principle, a pure void, that

occupies the Position and dwells in non-acting. For a “legalist” Empire,

the State should be completely immanent to civil society: “keeping the

state safe is like having food when hungry and clothes when cold, not by

will but by nature,”[41] explains Han Fei. The function of the sovereign

is here to articulate the apparatuses that will make him unnecessary,

that will allow cybernetic self- regulation. If, in some respects, the

teachings of Han Fei evoke certain formulations from liberal thought, it

refuses their false naïveté: the teachings present themselves as a

theory of absolute domination. Han Fei exhorts the Prince to abide by

the Way of Lao Tzu: “Heaven and Earth are ruthless; they treat the

myriad creatures as straw dogs. The sage is ruthless; he treats the

people as straw dogs.”[42] Even his most faithful ministers must know

how insignificant they are in the eyes of the Imperial Machine—the same

ministers, who only yesterday believed themselves masters—must dread

that some crusade to “moralize public life” might swoop down on them,

some craving for transparency. The art of imperial domination entails

being absorbed in the Principle, fading away into nothingness, seeing

everything by becoming invisible, holding everything by becoming

ungraspable. The withdrawal of the Prince is here nothing but the

withdrawal of the Principle: establish the norms by which beings will be

judged and evaluated, make sure that things are named in the

“appropriate” way, regulate rewards and punishments, govern identities

and attach men to them. Keep to this and remain opaque: such is the art

of empty and dematerialized domination, of the imperial domination of

withdrawal.

“Tao exists in invisibility; its function, in unintelligibility. Be

empty and reposed and have nothing to do. Then from the dark see defects

in the light. See but never be seen. Hear but never be heard. Know but

never be known. If you hear any word uttered, do not change it nor move

it but compare it with the deed and see if word and deed coincide with

each other. Place every official with a censor. Do not let them speak to

each other. Then everything will be exerted to the utmost. Cover tracks

and conceal sources. Then the ministers cannot trace origins. Leave your

wisdom and cease your ability. Then your subordinates cannot guess at

your limitations.

“Keep your decision and identify it with the words and deeds of your

subordinates. Cautiously take the handles and hold them fast. Uproot

others’ want of them, smash others’ thought of them, and do not let

anybody covet them. [...] The Tao of the lord of men regards tranquility

and humility as treasures. Without handling anything himself, he can

tell skilfulness from unskilfulness [sic]; without his own concerns of

mind, he can tell good from bad luck. Therefore, without uttering any

word himself, he finds a good reply given; without exerting his own

effort, he finds his task accomplished.” — Han Fei Tzu, “The Tao of the

Sovereign”[43]

“The sceptre should never be shown. For its inner nature is

nonassertion. The state affairs may be scattered in the four directions

but the key to their administration is in the centre. The sage holding

this key in hand, people from the four directions come to render him

meritorious services. He remains empty and waits for their services, and

they will exert their abilities by themselves. With the conditions of

the four seas clearly in mind, he can see the Yang by means of the Yin.

[...] He can go onward with the two handles without making any change.

To apply them without cessation is said to be acting on the right way of

government.

“Indeed, everything has its function; every material has its utility.

When everybody works according to his special qualification, both

superior and inferior will not have to do anything. Let roosters herald

the dawn and let cats watch for rats. When everything exercises its

special qualification, the ruler will not have to do anything. [...]

“The way to assume oneness starts from the study of terminology. When

names are rectified, things will be settled. [...] Therefore, he

promotes them through an examination of names. [...]

“If his own wisdom and talent are not discarded, it will be hard for him

to keep a constant principle of government. [...]

“The ruler of men should often stretch the tree but never allow its

branches to flourish.” — Han Fei Tzu, “Wielding the Sceptre”[44]

65

All imperial strategies—whether the spectacular polarization of bodies

toward various suitable absences or the constant terror THEY doggedly

maintain—seek to ensure that Empire never appears as such, namely, as

party. This peculiar kind of peace, this armed peace characteristic of

imperial order, is felt to be all the more oppressive because it is

itself the result of a total, mute, and continuous war. The stakes of

the offensive are not to win a certain confrontation, but rather to make

sure that the confrontation does not take place, to eliminate the event

at the source, to prevent any surge of intensity in the play of

forms-of-life through which the political might occur. It is a huge

victory for Empire if nothing happens. Faced with “whatever enemy,”

faced with the Imaginary Party, its strategy is to “replace the events

that one would like to be decisive but which remain unpredictable (i.e.

battle) with a series of minor but statistically consistent actions that

we call, by contrast, non-battle” (Guy Brossollet, Essai sur la

non-bataille, 1975).[45]

66

Empire does not confront us like a subject, facing us, but like an

environment that is hostile to us.

An Ethic of Civil War

New form of community, asserting itself in a warlike manner. Otherwise

the spirit grows soft. No “gardens” and no sheer “evasion in the face of

the masses.” War (but without gunpowder!) between different thoughts!

And their armies!

– Nietzsche, “Posthumous Fragments”

67

All those who cannot or will not conjure away the forms-of-life that

move them must come to grips with the following fact: they are, we are,

the pariahs of Empire. Anchored somewhere within us, there is a

lightless spot, a mark of Cain filling citizens with terror if not

outright hatred. This is the Manichaeism of Empire: on one side there is

the glorious new humanity, carefully reformatted, thrown open to all the

rays of power, ideally lacking in experience, and oblivious to

themselves until they become cancerous. These are citizens, the citizens

of Empire. re. And then there’s us. Us—it is neither a subject, nor

something formed, nor a multitude. Us—it is a heap of worlds, of

sub-spectacular and interstitial worlds, whose existence is

unmentionable, woven together with the kind of solidarity and dissent

that power cannot penetrate; and there are the strays, the poor, the

prisoners, the thieves, the criminals, the crazy, the perverts, the

corrupted, the overly alive, the overflowing, the rebellious

corporealities. In short, all those who, following their own line of

flight, do not fit into Empire’s stale, air-conditioned paradise.

Us—this is the fragmented plane of consistency of the Imaginary Party.

68

Insofar as we stay in contact with our own potentiality, even if only in

thinking through our experience, we represent a danger within the

metropolises of Empire. We are whatever enemy against which all the

imperial apparatuses and norms are positioned. Conversely, the resentful

ones, the intellectual, the immunodeficient, the humanist, the

transplant patient, the neurotic are Empire’s model citizens. From these

citizens, THEY are certain there is nothing to fear. Given their

circumstances, these citizens are lashed to a set of artificial

conditions of existence, such that only Empire can guarantee their

survival; any dramatic shift in their conditions of existence and they

die. They are born collaborators. It is not only power that passes

through their bodies, but also the police. This kind of mutilated life

arises not only as a consequence of Empire’s progress, but as its

precondition. The equation citizen = cop runs deep within the crack that

exists at the core of such bodies.

69

Everything allowed by Empire is for us similarly limited: spaces, words,

loves, heads, and hearts. So many nooses around the neck. Wherever we go

quarantine lines of petrification spring up almost spontaneously all

around us; we feel it in how they look and act. The slightest thing is

all it takes to be identified as a suspect by Empire’s anemic citizens,

to be identified as a risky dividual. There is a never ending haggling

over whether we will renounce the intimate relationship that we have

with ourselves, something for which they have given us so much flak. And

indeed, we will not hold out forever like this, in this tormented role

of the domestic deserter, of the stateless alien, of such a carefully

concealed hostis.

70

To the citizens of Empire, we have nothing to say. That would mean we

shared something in common. As far as they are concerned, the choice is

clear: either desert, join us and throw yourself into becoming, or stay

where you are and be dealt with in accordance with the well-known

principles of hostility: reduction and abasement.

71

For us, the hostis is this very hostility that, within Empire, orders

both the non-relation to self and the generalized non-relation between

bodies. Anything that tries to arouse in us this hostis must be

annihilated. What I mean is that the sphere of hostility itself must be

reduced.

72

The only way to reduce the sphere of hostility is by spreading the

ethico-political domain of friendship and enmity. This is why Empire has

never been able to reduce this sphere of hostility, despite all its

clamoring in the name of peace. The becoming-real of the Imaginary Party

is simply the formation—the contagious formation—of a plane of

consistency where friendships and enmities can freely deploy themselves

and make themselves legible to each other.

73

An agent of the Imaginary Party is someone who, wherever he is, from his

own position, triggers or pursues the process of ethical polarization,

the differential assumption of forms-of-life. This process is nothing

other than tiqqun.

74

Tiqqun is the becoming-real, the becoming-practice of the world. Tiqqun

is the process through which everything is revealed to be practice, that

is, to take place within its own limits, within its own immanent

signification. Tiqqun means that each act, conduct, and statement

endowed with sense— act, conduct and statement as event—spontaneously

manifests its own metaphysics, its own community, its own party. Civil

war simply means the world is practice, and life is, in its smallest

details, heroic.

75

The defeat of the revolutionary movement was not, as Stalinists always

complain, due to its lack of unity. It was defeated because the civil

war within its ranks was not worked out with enough force. The crippling

effects of the systematic confusion between hostis and enemy are

self-evident, whether it be the tragedy of the Soviet Union or the

groupuscular comedy.

Let’s be clear. Empire is not the enemy with which we have to contend,

and other tendencies within the Imaginary Party are not, for us, so many

hostis to be eliminated. The opposite is, in fact, the case.

76

Every form-of-life tends to constitute a community, and as a community

tends to constitute a world. Each world, when it thinks itself—when it

grasps itself strategically in its play with other worlds— discovers

that it is structured by a particular metaphysics which is, more than a

system, a language, its language. When a world thinks itself, it becomes

infectious. It knows the ethic it carries within, and it has mastered,

within its domain, the art of distances.

77

For each body, the most intense serenity is found by pushing its present

form-of-life to the limit, all the way to the point where the line

disappears, the line along which its power grows. Each body wants to

exhaust its form-of-life and leave it for dead. Then, it passes on to

another. This is how a body gets thicker, nourished with experience. But

it also becomes more supple: it has learned how to get rid of one figure

of the self.

78

There where bare life was, the form-of-life should come to be. Sickness

and weakness do not really happen to bare life in its generic sense.

They are affections that touch, in a singular way, specific

forms-of-life, and are scripted by the contradictory imperatives of

imperial pacification. If we manage to bring everything THEY exile to

the confused language of bare life back home to the terrain of

forms-of-life, we can invert biopolitics into a politics of radical

singularity. We have to reinvent the field of health, and invent a

political medicine based on forms-of-life.

79

Under the current conditions imposed by Empire, an ethical grouping has

to turn itself into a war machine. The object of the war machine is not

war. To the contrary, it can “make war only on the condition that they

simultaneously create something else, if only new nonorganic social

relations” (Deleuze, A Thousand Plateaus).[46] Unlike an army or

revolutionary organizations, the war machine has a supplemental relation

to war. It is capable of offensive exploits and can enter into battle;

it can have unlimited recourse to violence. But it does not need this to

lead a full, complete existence.

80

This is where the question of taking back both violence and all the

intense expressions of life stolen from us by biopolitical democracies

has to be posed. We should start by getting rid of the tired idea that

death always comes at the end, as the final moment of life. Death is

everyday, it is the continuous diminution of our presence that occurs

when we no longer have the strength to abandon ourselves to our

inclinations. Each wrinkle and each illness is some taste we have

betrayed, some infidelity to a form-oflife animating us. This is our

real death, and its chief cause is our lack of strength, the isolation

that prevents us from trading blows with power, which forbids us from

letting go of ourselves without the assurance we will have to pay for

it. Our bodies feel the need to gather together into war machines, for

this alone makes it possible to live and to struggle.

81

It should now be clear that, in the biopolitical sense, there is no such

thing as a “natural” death. All deaths are violent. Both existentially

and historically speaking. Under the biopolitical democracies of Empire,

everything has been socialized, and each death is inserted into a

complex network of causalities that make it a social death, a murder.

Today, there is only murder, whether it is condemned, pardoned, or, most

often, denied. At this point, there is no longer any question about the

fact of murder, only about how it happens.

82

The fact is nothing, the how is all. The proof is that facts must be

qualified beforehand, in order to be facts. Spectacle’s genius is to

have acquired a monopoly over qualifications, over the act of naming.

With this in hand, it can then smuggle in its metaphysics and pass off

the products of its fraudulent interpretations as facts. Some act of

social war gets called a “terrorist act,” while a major intervention by

NATO, initiated through the most arbitrary process, is deemed a

“peacekeeping operation.” Mass poisonings are described as epidemics,

while the “High-Security Wing” is the technical term used in our

democracies’ prisons for the legal practice of torture. Tiqqun is, to

the contrary, the action that restores to each fact its how, of holding

this how to be the only real there is. A death by duel, a fine

assassination, or a last brilliant phrase uttered with pathos would be

enough to clean up the blood and humanize what THEY say is the height of

inhumanity—murder. In murder more than anything, the fact is absorbed by

the how. Between enemies, for example, no firearms are allowed.

83

This world, is pulled between two tendencies: Lebanonization and

Swissification. These tendencies can coexist and alternate zone by zone.

Indeed, these two seemingly opposed yet reversible tendencies represent

two ways of warding off civil war. After all, before 1974, wasn’t

Lebanon nicknamed the “Switzerland of the Middle East”?

84

In the becoming-real of the Imaginary Party, we will no doubt cross

paths with those ghastly parasites, the professional revolutionaries.

Even though the only beautiful moments of the last century were

disparagingly called “civil wars,” they will no doubt still denounce in

us “the conspiracy of the ruling class to break down the revolution by a

civil war” (Marx, The Civil War in France).[47] We do not believe in the

revolution, we believe a bit more in “molecular revolutions,” and

wholeheartedly believe in the differentiated ways of taking up civil

war. The professional revolutionaries—whose repeated disasters have

hardly discouraged them— will first of all smear us as dilettantes and

as traitors to the Cause. They will want us to think that Empire is the

enemy. We will answer Their Stupidity by pointing out that Empire is not

the enemy, it is the hostis. It is not a matter of defeating Empire, it

has to be annihilated; and if need be we can do without their Party,

following the advice of Clausewitz on the subject of popular war: “A

general uprising, as we see it, should be nebulous and elusive; its

resistance should never materialize as a concrete body, otherwise the

enemy can direct sufficient force at its core, crush it, and take many

prisoners. When that happens, the people will lose heart and, believing

that the issue has been decided and further efforts would be useless,

drop their weapons. On the other hand, there must be some concentration

at certain points: the fog must thicken and form a dark and menacing

cloud out of which a bolt of lightning may strike at any time. These

points for concentration will, as we have said, be mainly on the flanks

of the enemy’s theater of operations. [...] They are not supposed to

pulverize the core but to nibble at the shell and around the edges” (On

War).[48]

85

The preceding phrases will usher in a new era that will be shadowed, in

ever more tangible ways, by the threat of a sudden unleashing of

reality. At some point, the “Invisible Committee” was the name given to

the ethic of civil war expressed in these pages. It refers to a specific

faction of the Imaginary Party, its revolutionary-experimental wing. We

hope that with these lines we can avoid some of the cruder inanities

that might be formulated about the nature of our activities and about

the era just now dawning. Can’t we already hear this predictable chatter

in the opinion held of the Muromachi period at the end of the Tokugawa

shogunate, described so well by one of our enemies: “This era of civil

wars, precisely because of its turmoil and the swelling of its out-sized

ambitions, turned out to be the freest ever known in Japan. All sorts of

shady figures let themselves get caught up in it. And this is why so

many have stressed the fact that it was simply the most violent of

eras”?

Appendix: Order of Requisition

FRENCH FORCES OF THE INTERIOR

PARIS REGION

Order of Requisition

In accord with the Parisian Liberation Committee, a decision has been

made in favor of the requisition of one tenth of the official stocks of

gasoline and of all hidden reserves.

Moreover, all stocks of sulfuric acid and potassium chlorate will be

made available to the heads of the French Forces of the Interior at

every level that is to carry out the requisition with the aid of every

movement, force, and representative of the resistance.

The following is for the purpose of making anti-tank, anti-armored car,

etc. incindiary bottles.

Composition of an incindiary bottle:

Combine ingredients until completely mixed.

Enclose the bottle in a paper cone that is strongly glued together and

sprinkled generously with chlorate on the interior.

When the bottle breaks upon its target, the acid and the chlorate will

combine to ignite the mixture and set the targeted vehicle on fire.

August 21, 1944

Le COLONEL

Regional Head of the F.F.L. Signed: ROL

</quote>

[1] The French indefinite pronoun ON is translated several ways

depending on context: “it,” “we,” “they” and, at times, “one.” The word

appears frequently here in all capitals, indicating a special emphasis.

We have on occasion decided to translate ON as “THEY.” In doing so, we

echo the conventions of certain French translators of Heidegger’s Being

and Time, who render Das Man by “l’On.” Heidegger’s English translators

propose “the ‘They.’” But this solution is inadequate, and at times we

have simply used “ONE,” in the sense of “someone.”

[2] Modeled in part after Leopold Bloom from James Joyce’s Ulysses,

“Bloom” is a conceptual persona who figures prominently in the work of

Tiqqun. See in particular Tiqqun, Théorie du Bloom (Paris: La Fabrique,

2004), from which we extract a provisional description: “Last man, man

on the street, man of the crowds, man of the masses, mass-man, this is

how THEY have represented Bloom to us: as the sad product of the time of

multitudes, as the catastrophic son of the industrial era and the end of

enchantments. But in these designations we also feel a shudder, THEY

tremble before the infinite mystery of the ordinary man. Everyone senses

that the theater of his qualities hides pure potentiality: a pure power

we are supposed to know nothing about” (16–17).

[3] To be polarisé can mean to be obsessed with something or someone;

more generally, it refers to the convergence of a field of energy or

forces around a single point. When in English one speaks of a

“polarizing” figure or event, it indicates the production of

irreconcilable differences between groups or parties. Here, the term

evokes a process in which a body is affected by a form-of-life in such a

way as to take on a charge that orients it in a specific manner: it is

attracted by certain bodies, repulsed by others.

[4] Émile Benveniste, Le vocabulaire des institutions indo- europĂ©ennes,

tome 1 (Paris: Gallimard, 1966), 87, 92–94.

[5] Immanuel Kant, Practical Philosophy, ed. Mary J. Gregor (Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 1996), 328 [AK 8:357].

[6] Sebastian Roche, La societĂ© d’hospitalitĂ© (Paris: Sew, 2000).

[7] Friedrich Nietzsche, The Gay Science, trans. Josefine Nauckhoff

(Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2001), 128.

[8] “Whose realm, his religion”—a Latin expression meaning whoever is

sovereign dictates the religion of the land.

[9] PublicitĂ© is connected to the German Öffentlichkeit and means

“public sphere” or “public opinion.” The German root offen- suggests

openness, clarity, transparency and manifestness. Yet instead of

translating publicitĂ© as “public sphere,” which carries specific

connotations in political theory, we use “publicity,” following the

convention established by Kant’s translators. Note however that

“publicity” does not just mean advertising in a narrow sense, but rather

the whole sphere of “publicness”

[10] Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan (Indianapolis: Hackett, 1994), 112.

[11] See “On the Economy as Black Magic” Tiqqun 1 (1999).

[12] Norbert Elias, The Civilizing Process: Sociogenetic and

Psychogenetic Investigations, trans. Edmund Jephcott (Oxford: Blackwell,

1994), 375.

[13] Hobbes, Leviathan, 219.

[14] The quotation is probably a reference to one of the two foll owing

passages: “the simple compactness of their individuality has been

shattered into a multitude of separate atoms,” in G.WF. Hegel,

Phenomenology of Spirit, trans. A.V. Miller (Oxford: Oxford University

Press, 1977), 289; or, “as a simple undifferent iated mass or as a crowd

split up into atomic units,” in G.WF. Hegel, Elements of the Philosophy

of Right, trans. H. B. Nisbet (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,

1991), 343.

[15] Alexis de Tocqueville, The Old Regime and the Revolution, Volume 1,

trans. Alan Kahan (Chicago: University of Chicago P””, 1998), 243, 242,

197, 198, 98.

[16] The reference is to lines 24—28 of Hobbes’ verse autobiography: “My

native place I’m not ashamed to own; I Th’ill times, and ills born with

me, I bemoan. / For fame had rumour’d that a fleet at sea, / Would cause

our nations catastrophe. / And hereupon it was my mother dear / Did

bring forth twins at once, both me and fear” (Hobbes, Leviathan, Irv).

[17] Thomas Hobbes, The Elements of Law, Natural and Politic: Human

Nature and de Corpore Politico with Three Lives (Oxford: Oxford

UniversityPress, 1999), 21, 59.

[18] Hobbes, Leviathan, 76, 75.

[19] Ibid., 77.

[20] The phrase refers to the Rousseau text of the same name, “Que

l’état de guerre naĂźt de l’état social,” in Jean-Jacques Rousseau,

Oeuvres complùtes, vol. III (Paris: Galdlimar, 1964), 601–612. The

English translation is available in variant form as “The State ofWar,”

Collected Writings of Rousseau, vol. III, trans. Christopher Kelly and

Judith Bush (Hanover, NH: University Press of New England, 2005), 61–73.

[21] Hobbes, Leviathan. 233.

[22] Ibid., 77.

[23] For these two essays see Pierre Clastres, Archeology of Violence,

trans. Jeanine Herman (New York: Semiotext(e), 1994), 139–200.

[24] Ibid., 166–167.

[25] Hegel, Elements of the Philosophy of Right, 262–263.

[26] “Tel est mon bon plaisir,” a reference to “car tel est notre bon

plaisir,” the expression instituted by Francis I and used by monarchs

when signing law.

[27] Michel Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics: Lectures at the College

de France, 19781979, trans. Graham Burchell (New York: Palgrave

Macmillan, 200B), 46.

[28] Ibid., 67.

[29] Ibid.

[30] Michel Foucault, “The Crisis of Medicine or the Crisis of

Anti-medicine?” trans. Edgar C. Knowlton, Jr., et al., Foucault Studies

1 (December 2004): 5–19, 6.

[31] Hobbes, Leviathan, 109.

[32] Karl Marx, Critique of Hegel’s “Philosophy of Right” (Cambridge:

Cambridge University Press, 1977), 31, 32, emphasis Tiqqun.

[33] Foucault, The Birth of Biopolitics, 46.

[34] Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish: The Birth of the Prison,

trans. Alan Sheridan (New York: Vrntage, 1977), 193.

[35] “Faute blanche.” This phrase can evoke “carte blanche” or “blank

check.” In these cases, the term “blanche” refers to something

unspecified, a quantity of money or an offense, crime or “fault.”

[36] Antonio Negri, “L’Empire,’ stade suprĂȘme de l’impĂ©rialisme,” Le

Monde Diplomatique (January, 2001): 3.

[37] Thomas Hobbes, De Cive (Indianapolis, IN: Hackett, 1991), 250.

[38] Michael Hardt and Antonio Negri, Empire (Cambridge, MA: Harvard

University Press, 2000), xii, xi, 3.

[39] Han Fei Tzu, Complete Works of Han Fei Tzu, Vol. II, trans. W. K.

Liao (London: Arthur Probsthain, 1959), 229, 324. Some pas sages have

been modified in accordance with the French translation Tiqqun uses.

[40] Han Fei Tzu, Complete Works of Han Fei Tzu, Vol. I, trans. W. K.

Liao (London: Arthur Probsthain, 1959), 58.

[41] Ibid., 262.

[42] Lao Tzu, Tao Te Ching, trans. D. C. Lau (New York: Knopf, 1994),

53.

[43] Han Fei Tzu, Complete Works of Han Fei Tzu, Vol. I, 32–33, 34.

[44] Ibid., 52–53, 54, 61.

[45] Guy Brossollet, Essai sur la non-bataille (Paris: Belin, 1975), 78.

[46] Gilles Deleuze and FĂ©lix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus, trans.

Brian Massumi (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1987), 423,

emphasis removed.

[47] Karl Marx, The Civil War in France (Chicago: Charles H. Kerr,

1998), 117.

[48] Carl von Clausewitz, On War, trans. Michael Howard and Peter Parer

(Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1976), 482, 480–481.