1. In 1943, in a small jewish periodical, The Menorah Journal, Hannah
Arendt published an article titled "We Refugees." In this brief but
important essay, after sketching a polemical portrait of Mr. Cohn, the
assimilated Jew who had been 150 percent German, 150 percent Viennese,
and 150 percent French but finally realizes bitterly that "on ne
parvient pas deux fois," Arendt overturns the condition of refugee and
person without a country - in which she herself was living - in order to
propose this condition as the paradigm of a new historical
consciousness. The refugee who has lost all rights, yet stops wanting to
be assimilated at any cost to a new national identity so as to
contemplate his condition lucidly, receives, in exchange for certain
unpopularity, an inestimable advantage: "For him history is no longer a
closed book, and politics ceases to be the privilege of the Gentiles. He
knows that the banishment of the Jewish people in Europe was followed
immediately by that of the majority of the European peoples. Refugees
expelled from one country to the next represent the avant-garde of their
people."
It is worth reflecting on the sense of this analysis, which today,
precisely fifty years later, has not lost any of its currency. Not only
does the problem arise with the same urgency, both in Europe and
elsewhere, but also, in the context of the inexorable decline of the
nation-state and the general corrosion of traditional legal-political
categories, the refugee is perhaps the only imaginable figure of the
people in our day. At least until the process of the dissolution of the
nation-state and its sovereignty has come to an end, the refugee is the
sole category in which it is possible today to perceive the forms and
limits of a political community to come. Indeed, it may be that if we
want to be equal to the absolutely novel tasks that face us, we will
have to abandon without misgivings the basic concepts in which we have
represented political subjects up to now (man and citizen with their
rights, but also the sovereign people, the worker, etc.) and to
reconstruct our political philosophy beginning with this unique figure.
2. The first appearance of refugees as a mass phenomenon occurred at the
end of World War I, when the collapse of the Russian, Austro-Hungarian,
and Ottoman empires, and the new order created by the peace treaties,
profoundly upset the demographic and territorial structure of Central
and Eastern Europe. In just a short time, a million and a half White
Russians, seven hundred thousand Armenians, five hundred thousand
Bulgarians, a million Greeks, and hundreds of thousands of Germans,
Hungarians, and Romanians left their countries and moved elsewhere. To
these masses in motion should be added the explosive situation
determined by the fact that in the new states created by the peace
treaties on the model of the nation-state (for example, in Yugoslavia
and in Czechoslovakia), some 30 percent of the populations comprised
minorities that had to be protected through a series of international
treaties (the so-called Minority Treaties), which very often remained a
dead letter. A few years later, the racial laws in Germany and the Civil
War in Spain disseminated a new and substantial contingent of refugees
throughout Europe.
We are accustomed to distinguishing between stateless persons and
refugees, but this distinction, now as then, is not as simple as it
might at first glance appear. From the beginning, many refugees who
technically were not stateless preferred to become so rather than to
return to their homeland (this is the case of Polish and Romanian Jews
who were in France or Germany at the end of the war, or today of victims
of political persecution as well as of those for whom returning to
their homeland would mean the impossibility of survival). On the other
hand, the Russian, Armenian and Hungarian refugees were promptly
denationalized by the new Soviet or Turkish governments, etc. It is
important to note that starting with the period of World War I, many
European states began to introduce laws which permitted their own
citizens to be denaturalized and denationalized. The first was France,
in 1915, with regard to naturalized citizens of "enemy" origins; in 1922
the example was followed by Belgium, which revoked the naturalization
of citizens who had committed "anti-national" acts during the war; in
1926 the Fascist regime in Italy passed a similar law concerning
citizens who had shown themselves to be "unworthy of Italian
citizenship"; in 1933 it was Austria's turn, and so forth, until in 1935
the Nuremberg Laws divided German citizens into full citizens and
citizens without political rights. These laws - and the mass
statelessness that resulted - mark a decisive turning point in the life
of the modern nation-state and its definitive emancipation from the
naive notions of "people" and "citizen."
This is not the place to review the history of the various international
commissions through which the states, the League of Nations, and later,
the United Nations stempted to deal with the problem of refugees - from
the Nansen Bureau for Russian and Armenian refugees (1921), to the High
Commission for Refugees from Germany (1936), the Intergovernmental
Committee for Refugees (1938), and the International Refugee
Organization of the United Nations (1946), up to the present High
Commission for Refugees (1951) - whose activity, according to its
statute, has only a "humanitarian and social," not political, character.
The basic point is that every time refugees no longer represent
individual cases but rather a mass phenomenon (as happened between the
two wars, and has happened again now), both these organizations and the
single states have proven, despite the solemn evocations of the
inalienable rights of man, to be absolutely incapable not only of
resolving the problem but also simply of dealing with it adequately. In
this way the entire ques- tion was transferred into the hands of the
police and of humanitarian organizations.
3. The reasons for this impotence lie not only in the selfishness and
blindness of bureaucratic machines, but in the basic notions themselves
that regulate the inscription of the native (that is, of life) in the
legal order of the nation-state. Hannah Arendt titled chapter 5 of her
book Imperialism, dedicated to the problem of refugees, "The Decline of
the Nation-State and the End of the Rights of Man." This formulation -
which inextricably links the fates of the rights of man and the modern
national state, such that the end of the latter necessarily implies the
obsolescence of the former - should be taken seriously. The paradox here
is that precisely the figure that should have incarnated the rights of
man par excellence, the refugee, constitutes instead the radical crisis
of this concept. "The concept of the Rights of man," Arendt writes,
"based on the supposed existence of a human being as such, collapsed in
ruins as soon as those who professed it found themselves for the first
time before men who had truly lost every other specific quality and
connection except for the mere fact of being humans." In the
nation-state system, the so-called sacred and inalienable rights of man
prove to be completely unprotected at the very moment it is no longer
possible to characterize them as rights of the citizens of a state. This
is implicit, if one thinks about it, in the ambiguity of the very title
of the Declaration of 1789, Declaration des droits de I'homme et du
citoyen, in which it is unclear whether the two terms name two
realities, or whether instead they form a hendiadys, in which the second
term is, in reality, already contained in the first.
That there is no autonomous space within the political order of the
nation-state for something like the pure man in himself is evident at
least in the fact that, even in the best of cases, the status of the
refugee is always considered a temporary condition that should lead
either to naturalization or to repatriation. A permanent status of man
in himself is inconceivable for the law of the nation-state.
4. It is time to stop looking at the Declarations of Rights from 1789 to
the present as if they were proclamations of eternal, metajuridical
values that bind legislators to respect them, and to consider them
instead according to their real function in the modern state. In fact,
the Rights of Man represent above all the original figure of the
inscription of bare natural life in the legal-political order of the
nation-state. That bare life (the human creature) which in the ancien
regime belonged to God, and in the classical world was clearly distinct
(as zoe) from political life (bios), now takes center stage in the
state's concerns and becomes, so to speak, its terrestrial foundation.
Nation-state means a state that makes nativity or birth (that is, of the
bare human life) the foundation of its own sovereignty. This is the
(not even very obscure) sense of the first three articles of the
Declaration of 1789: only because it wrote the native element into the
core of any political association (arts. 1 and 2) could it firmly tie
(in art. 3) the principle of sovereignty to the nation (in accordance
with its etymon, natio originally meant simply "birth"). The fiction
implicit here is that birth immediately becomes nation, such that there
can be no distinction between the two moments. Rights, that is, are
attributable to man only in the degree to which he is the immediately
vanishing presupposition (indeed, he must never appear simply as man) of
the citizen.
5. If in the system of the nation-state the refugee represents such a
disquieting element, it is above all because by breaking up the identity
between man and citizen, between nativity and nationality, the refugee
throws into crisis the original fiction of sovereignty. Single
exceptions to this principle have always existed, of course; the novelty
of our era, which threatens the very foundations of the nation-state,
is that growing portions of humanity can no longer be represented within
it. For this reason - that is, inasmuch as the refugee unhinges the old
trinity of state/nation/territory - this apparently marginal figure
deserves rather to be considered the central figure of our political
history. It would be well not to forget that the first camps in Europe
were built as places to control refugees, and that the progression -
internment camps, concentration camps, extermination camps - represents a
perfectly real filiation. One of the few rules the Nazis faithfully
observed in the course of the "final solution" was that only after the
Jews and gypsies were completely denationalized (even of that
second-class citizenship that belonged to them after the Nuremberg laws)
could they be sent to the extermination camps. When the rights of man
are no longer the rights of the citizen, then he is truly sacred, in the
sense that this term had in archaic Roman law: destined to die.
6. It is necessary resolutely to separate the concept of the refugee
from that of the "Rights of man," and to cease considering the right of
asylum (which in any case is being drastically restricted in the
legislation of the European states) as the conceptual category in which
the phenomenon should be impressed (a glance at the recent Test sul
diritto d'asilo by A. Heller shows that today this can lead only to
nauseating confusion). The refugee should be considered for what he is,
that is, nothing less than a border concept that radically calls into
question the principles of the nation-state and, at the same time, helps
clear the field for a no-longer-delayable renewal of categories. In the
meantime, the phenomenon of so-called illegal immigration into the
countries of the European Community has assumed (and will increasingly
assume in coming years, with a foreseen 20 million immigrants from the
countries of central Europe) features and proportions such as to fully
justify this revolution in perspective. What the industrialized states
are faced with today is a permanently resident mass of noncitizens, who
neither can be nor want to be naturalized or repatriated. Often these
noncitizens have a nationality of origin, but inasmuch as they prefer
not to make use of their state's protection they are, like refugees,
"stateless de facto" For these noncitizen residents, T. Hammar created
the neologism denizens, which has the merit of showing that the concept
citizen is no longer adequate to describe the sociopolitical reality of
modern states. On the other hand, citizens of the advanced
industrialized states (both in the United States and in Europe)
manifest, by their growing desertion of the codified instances of
political participation, an evident tendency to transform themselves
into denizens, into conformity with the well-known principle that
substantial assimilation in the presence of formal differences
exasperates hatred and intolerance, xenophobic reactions and defensive
mobilizations will increase.
7. Before the extermination camps are reopened in Europe (which is
already starting to happen), nation-states must find the courage to call
into question the very principle of the inscription of nativity and the
trinity of state/nation/territory which is based on it. It is
sufficient here to suggest one possible direction. As is well known, one
of the options considered for the problem of Jerusalem is that it
become the capital, contemporaneously and without territorial divisions,
of two different states. The paradoxical condition of reciprocal
extraterritoriality (or, better, aterritoriality) that this would imply
could be generalized as a model of new international relations. Instead
of two national states separated by uncertain and threatening
boundaries, one could imagine two political communities dwelling in the
same region and in exodus one into the other, divided from each other by
a series of reciprocal extraterritorialities, in which the guiding
concept would no longer be the ius of the citizen, but rather the
refugium of the individual. In a similar sense, we could look to Europe
not as an impossible "Europe of nations," whose catastrophic results can
already be perceived in the short term, but as an aterritorial or
extraterritorial space in which all the residents of the European states
(citizens and noncitizens) would be in a position of exodus or refuge,
and the status of European would mean the citizen's being-in-exodus
(obviously also immobile). The European space would thus represent an
unbridgeable gap between birth and nation, in which the old concept of
people (which, as is well known, is always a minority) could again find a
political sense by decisively opposing the concept of nation (which
until now has unduly usurped it).
This space would not coincide with any homogeneous national territory,
nor with their topographical sum, but would act on these territories,
making holes in them and dividing them topologically like in a Leiden
jar or in a Moebius strip, where exterior and interior are
indeterminate. In this new space, the European cities, entering into a
relationship of reciprocal extraterritoriality, would rediscover their
ancient vocation as cities of the world. Today, in a sort of
no-man's-land between Lebanon and Israel, there are four hundred and
twenty-five Palestinians who were expelled by the state of Israel.
According to Hannah Arendt's suggestion, these men constitute "the
avant-garde of their people." But this does not necessarily or only mean
that they might form the original nucleus of a future national state,
which would probably resolve the Palestinian problem just as
inadequately as Israel has resolved the Jewish question. Rather, the
no-man's-land where they have found refuge has retroacted on the
territory of the state of Israel, making holes in it and altering it in
such a way that the image of that snow-covered hill has become more an
internal part of that territory than any other region of Heretz Israel.
It is only in a land where the spaces of states will have been
perforated and topologically deformed, and the citizen will have learned
to acknowledge the refugee that he himself is, that man's political
survival today is imaginable.
Giorgio Agamben. "We Refugees." Symposium. 1995, No. 49(2), Summer, Pages: 114-119, English, Translation by Michael Rocke.
Translations:
Giorgio Agamben. "We Refugees." Symposium. 1995, No. 49(2), Summer, Pages: 114-119, English, Translation by Michael Rocke.
Giorgio Agamben. "Við flóttamenn." Dagblaðið Nei. February 21, 2009. Islandic.
Giorgio Agamben. "My, uchodźcy." June 5, 2007. Polish. Translation by Katarzyna Gawlicz.
Showing posts with label Giorgio Agamben. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Giorgio Agamben. Show all posts
Giorgio Agamben - "No to Bio-Political Tattooing."
The newspapers leave no doubt: from now on whoever wants to go to the United States with a visa will be put on file and will have to leave their fingerprints when they enter the country. Personally, I have no intention of submitting myself to such procedures and that's why I didn't wait to cancel the course I was supposed to teach at New York University in March.
I would like to explain the reasons for this refusal here, that is, why, in spite of the sympathy that has connected me to my American colleagues and their students for many years, I consider that this decision is at once necessary and without appeal and would hope that it will be shared by other European intellectuals and teachers.
It's not only the immediate superficial reaction to a procedure that has long been imposed on criminals and political defendants. If it were only that, we would certainly be morally able to share, in solidarity, the humiliating conditions to which so many human beings are subjected.
The essential does not lie there. The problem exceeds the limits of personal sensitivity and simply concerns the juridical-political status (it would be simpler, perhaps, to say bio-political) of citizens of the so-called democratic states where we live.
There has been an attempt the last few years to convince us to accept as the humane and normal dimensions of our existence, practices of control that had always been properly considered inhumane and exceptional.
Thus, no one is unaware that the control exercised by the state through the usage of electronic devices, such as credit cards or cell phones, has reached previously unimaginable levels.
All the same, it wouldn't be possible to cross certain thresholds in the control and manipulation of bodies without entering a new bio-political era, without going one step further in what Michel Foucault called the progressive animalisation of man which is established through the most sophisticated techniques.
Electronic filing of finger and retina prints, subcutaneous tattooing, as well as other practices of the same type, are elements that contribute towards defining this threshold. The security reasons that are invoked to justify these measures should not impress us: they have nothing to do with it. History teaches us how practices first reserved for foreigners find themselves applied later to the rest of the citizenry.
What is at stake here is nothing less than the new "normal" bio-political relationship between citizens and the state. This relation no longer has anything to do with free and active participation in the public sphere, but concerns the enrollment and the filing away of the most private and incommunicable aspect of subjectivity: I mean the body's biological life.
These technological devices that register and identify naked life correspond to the media devices that control and manipulate public speech: between these two extremes of a body without words and words without a body, the space we once upon a time called politics is ever more scaled-down and tiny.
Thus, by applying these techniques and these devices invented for the dangerous classes to a citizen, or rather to a human being as such, states, which should constitute the precise space of political life, have made the person the ideal suspect, to the point that it's humanity itself that has become the dangerous class.
Some years ago, I had written that the West's political paradigm was no longer the city state, but the concentration camp, and that we had passed from Athens to Auschwitz. It was obviously a philosophical thesis, and not historic recital, because one could not confuse phenomena that it is proper, on the contrary, to distinguish.
I would have liked to suggest that tattooing at Auschwitz undoubtedly seemed the most normal and economic way to regulate the enrolment and registration of deported persons into concentration camps. The bio-political tattooing the United States imposes now to enter its territory could well be the precursor to what we will be asked to accept later as the normal identity registration of a good citizen in the state's gears and mechanisms. That's why we must oppose it.
Giorgio Agamben. "Se Lo Stato Sequestra Il Tuo Corpo." La Repubblica. January 8, 2004, Page 42, Culture.
Giorgio Agamben. "No to Bio-Political Tattooing." English.
Giorgio Agamben. "Non au tatouage biopolitique." Le Monde diplomatique. January 10, 2004, French.
Giorgio Agamben. "Körper ohne Worte. Gegen die biopolitische Tätowierung." German.
I would like to explain the reasons for this refusal here, that is, why, in spite of the sympathy that has connected me to my American colleagues and their students for many years, I consider that this decision is at once necessary and without appeal and would hope that it will be shared by other European intellectuals and teachers.
It's not only the immediate superficial reaction to a procedure that has long been imposed on criminals and political defendants. If it were only that, we would certainly be morally able to share, in solidarity, the humiliating conditions to which so many human beings are subjected.
The essential does not lie there. The problem exceeds the limits of personal sensitivity and simply concerns the juridical-political status (it would be simpler, perhaps, to say bio-political) of citizens of the so-called democratic states where we live.
There has been an attempt the last few years to convince us to accept as the humane and normal dimensions of our existence, practices of control that had always been properly considered inhumane and exceptional.
Thus, no one is unaware that the control exercised by the state through the usage of electronic devices, such as credit cards or cell phones, has reached previously unimaginable levels.
All the same, it wouldn't be possible to cross certain thresholds in the control and manipulation of bodies without entering a new bio-political era, without going one step further in what Michel Foucault called the progressive animalisation of man which is established through the most sophisticated techniques.
Electronic filing of finger and retina prints, subcutaneous tattooing, as well as other practices of the same type, are elements that contribute towards defining this threshold. The security reasons that are invoked to justify these measures should not impress us: they have nothing to do with it. History teaches us how practices first reserved for foreigners find themselves applied later to the rest of the citizenry.
What is at stake here is nothing less than the new "normal" bio-political relationship between citizens and the state. This relation no longer has anything to do with free and active participation in the public sphere, but concerns the enrollment and the filing away of the most private and incommunicable aspect of subjectivity: I mean the body's biological life.
These technological devices that register and identify naked life correspond to the media devices that control and manipulate public speech: between these two extremes of a body without words and words without a body, the space we once upon a time called politics is ever more scaled-down and tiny.
Thus, by applying these techniques and these devices invented for the dangerous classes to a citizen, or rather to a human being as such, states, which should constitute the precise space of political life, have made the person the ideal suspect, to the point that it's humanity itself that has become the dangerous class.
Some years ago, I had written that the West's political paradigm was no longer the city state, but the concentration camp, and that we had passed from Athens to Auschwitz. It was obviously a philosophical thesis, and not historic recital, because one could not confuse phenomena that it is proper, on the contrary, to distinguish.
I would have liked to suggest that tattooing at Auschwitz undoubtedly seemed the most normal and economic way to regulate the enrolment and registration of deported persons into concentration camps. The bio-political tattooing the United States imposes now to enter its territory could well be the precursor to what we will be asked to accept later as the normal identity registration of a good citizen in the state's gears and mechanisms. That's why we must oppose it.
Giorgio Agamben. "Se Lo Stato Sequestra Il Tuo Corpo." La Repubblica. January 8, 2004, Page 42, Culture.
Giorgio Agamben. "No to Bio-Political Tattooing." English.
Giorgio Agamben. "Non au tatouage biopolitique." Le Monde diplomatique. January 10, 2004, French.
Giorgio Agamben. "Körper ohne Worte. Gegen die biopolitische Tätowierung." German.
Today, in the era of the complete triumph of the spectacle, what can be reaped from the heritage of Debord?
“Today, in the era of the complete triumph of the spectacle, what can be reaped from the heritage of Debord? It is clear that the spectacle is language, the very communicativity or linguistic being of humans. This means that a fuller Marxian analysis should deal with the fact that capitalism (or any other name one wants to give the process that today dominated world history) was directed not only toward the expropriation of productive activity, but also and principally toward the alienation of language itself, of the very linguistic and communicative nature of humans, of that logos which one of Heraclitus' fragments identified as the Common. The extreme form of this expropriation of the Common is the spectacle, that is, the politics we live in. But this also means that in the spectacle of our own linguistic nature comes back to us inverted. This is why (precisely because what is being expropriated is the very possibility of common good) the violence of the spectacle is so destructive; but for the same reason the spectacle remains something like a positive possibility that can be used against it.”
Giorgio Agamben, The Coming Community (1993)
Giorgio Agamben, The Coming Community (1993)
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