PAVILIONcontemporary art & culture magazine / #10-11WHAT WAS SOCIALISM, AND WHAT COMES NEXT?

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Editors: Råzvan Ion & Eugen Rådescu

Advisory Board: Marina Grzinic, Zoran Eric, Dan Perjovschi, Lia Perjovschi, Dana Altman, Zsolt Petrányi,Johan Sjöström, Felix Vogel.

Contributors: Katherine Verdery, Deborah Cook, David Walsh, Ovidiu Pecican, TincuÆa Pârv, MagnusWennerhag, Saskia Sassen, Pascal Bruckner, Marina Grzinic, Cosmin Gabriel Marian, VladimirTismåneanu, Gunalan Nadarajan, Slavoj Zizek, Chantal Mouffe, Misko Suvakovic, Ana Peraica, Jonathan L.Beller, Cåtålin Avramescu, Felix Vogel, Xavier Ribas, Dana Altman, Michael Elmgreen & Ingar Dragset, Dan Perjovschi, Chitra Ganesh + Mariam Ghani, Marjetica Potrc, Vincent Delbrouck, Iara Boubnova,Luchezar Boyadjiev, Rassim, Olivia Plender, Taller Popular de Serigrafia, Raluca Voinea, Hüseyn Alptekin,Naeem Mohaiemen, Ciprian Mureçan, Irwin, Juliane Debeusscher.

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Cover: Dan Perjovschi, The Right Socialism9 drawings, each drawing 14.5 cm x 19.5 cm, marker on paper. Artist project for Pavilion.

PAVILION #10-11WHAT WAS SOCIALISM, AND WHAT COMES NEXT?

www.pavilionmagazine.org / www.bucharestbiennale.org

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5 What Was Socialism, and What Comes NextKatherine Verdery

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AROUND

WHAT WAS SOCIALISM, AND WHAT COMES NEXT?

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81 Synthesis: Retro-Avant Garde Or Mapping Post-SocialismMarina Grzinic

17 Adorno On Late Capitalism: Totalitarianism and the Welfare StateDeborah Cook

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58 The Gataia ExperimentOvidiu Pecican

34 The Attitude of Classical Marxism Toward ArtDavid Walsh

78 A Portrait of the Rebel Consumer Opressed by LifePascal Bruckner

68 Denationalized States and Global AssemblagesMagnus Wennerhag in dialogue with Saskia Sassen

64 Socialism, Avant-Garde, and the Western EuropeansTincuta Pârv

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116 Can Lenin Tell Us About Freedom Today?Slavoj Zizek

92 Marxism NewsCosmin Gabriel Marian

94 Lenin’s Century: Bolshevism, Marxism, and the Russian TraditionVladimir Tismaneanu˘

126 The Bipolar World Has Ended. What Comes After?Chantal Mouffe

106 Of Butchers and Policemen: Law, Justice and Economies of AnxietyGunalan Nadarajan

142 Empty PedestalsAna Peraica

274 Biographies

148 Numismatics of the Sensual, Calculus of the Image: The Pyrotechnics of ControlJonathan L. Beller

166 The Theory of revolution in The Manifest of the Comunist PartyCatalin Avramescu

175 MudXavier Ribas (with a text by Felix Vogel)

182 End StationElmgreen and Dragset (with a text by Dana Altman)

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134 Apocalyptic Spirits: Art In Postsocialist Era Misko Suvakovicˇ ´ˇ

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190 The Right SocialismDan Perjovschi

198 Notes on the Disappeared: Towards a Visual Language of ResistanceChitra Ganesh+Mariam Ghani

206 Monumental and Personal ModernismMarjetica Potrc

216 La InmovilidadVincent Delbrouck

224 CorrectionsRassim (with a text by Iara Boubnova & Luchezar Boyadjiev)

232 Machine Shall be the Slave of Man but Man Shall not Slave for MachineOlivia Plender

238 ¡Protesta!Taller Popular de Serigrafia

244 IncidentHüseyin Alptekin (with a text by Raluca Voinea)

250 Sartre kommt nach StammheimNaeem Mohaiemen

256 NSK StateIrwin (with a text by Juliane Debeusscher)

262 PioneersCiprian Muresan

268 (another) point of viewOlga Kisseleva

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The twentieth century mightfairly be called the Bolshevik century.From the moment of the Soviet Union'semergence after the October Revolution,the presence of this new historical actoron the world stage affected every impor-tant event. Its birth changed the fortunesof World War I. The Allied victory inWorld War II owed much to the prodi-gious human and material capacities theSoviets were able to mobilize—despitethe prior loss of many millions and vastresources from the purges, gulags, col-lectivization, and man-made famines ofthe 1930s. So successful was the war-time effort that Stalin was able to bringinto the Soviet sphere a number of othercountries in Eastern Europe at the war'send. The presence of the Soviet Unionin the world shaped not only internation-al but internal politics everywhere, fromwestern European social-welfare poli-cies to the many Third-World strugglesthat advanced under Soviet aegis. In the

What Was Socialism, and What ComesNext?

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by Katherine Verdery“Fate had it that when I found myself at thehead of the state it was already clear that allwas not well in the country. ... Everythinghad to be changed radically. ... Theprocess of renovating the country and radi-cal changes in the world economy turnedout to be far more complicated than couldbe expected. ... However, work of historicsignificance has been accomplished. Thetotalitarian system ... has been eliminated .... We live in a new world.”

Mikhail Gorbachev, Resignation speech, 1991

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United States, fear of "Communism" andgrudging respect for Soviet capabilitiesspurred violations of civil rights duringthe McCarthy period, a massive armsbuild-up, and substantial developmentfrom by-products of military technology.Who could have foreseen that withMikhail Gorbachev's resignation speechof December 25, 1991, so mighty anempire would simply vanish? Televisioncameras lingered on its final image: thesmall red table at which he had sat.

The Soviet Union's meek exitbelies not only its tremendous power andinfluence during the twentieth centurybut also the positive meaning of social-ism for many who fought to produce andsustain it, both in the Soviet Union itselfand in socialist-inspired liberation move-ments elsewhere. While the people whocreated such movements were often fewin number, they articulated the dissatis-factions of millions. Inequality, hunger,poverty and exploitation—to theseperennial features of the human condi-tion socialism offered a response. Itpromised laboring people dignity andfreedom, women equal pay for equalwork, and national minorities equal rightsin the state. By making these promises,it drew attention to major problems thatcapitalist liberal democracies had notadequately resolved.

Unfortunately, the execution ofsocialist programs encountered a num-ber of difficulties; attempts to rectify themended by corrupting its objectives,sometimes through monstrous, despica-ble policies that subjected hundreds ofthousands to terror and death. Thesedepartures from the ideal led many com-mitted marxists to abandon their supportof the left ; the expression "real" or "actu-

ally-existing" socialism came into use, todistinguish its messy reality from itshopes and claims. In addition to makingsocialism more difficult to support, realsocialism's distasteful features made itharder to research. Criticism and exas-peration came more readily to thosestudying it than did sympathy—and weremore readily rewarded with notice.Those who sought to analyze it with anopen mind could be dismissed as wild-eyed radicals or apologists of dictator-ship. In the United States, one reasonfor this was the continuing legacy of theCold War.

The Cold War and the Production ofKnowledge

Some might argue that thetwentieth century was not the Bolshevikbut the American century, in which theUnited States became a world power, ledthe struggle of the Free World againstthe Bolshevik Menace, and emerged vic-torious. While I agree with neither theoversimplification nor the martialimagery of that account, there is nodoubt that the Cold-War relationshipbetween the two superpowers set thedefining stamp on the century's secondhalf. More than simply a superpowerconfrontation having broad politicalrepercussions, the Cold War was also aform of knowledge and a cognitiveorganization of the world. It laid downthe coordinates of a conceptual geogra-phy grounded in East vs. West, havingimplications for the further dividebetween North and South. Mediating theintersection of these two axes weresocialism's appeal for many in the "ThirdWorld" and the challenges it posed to the

First World.As an organization of thought,

the Cold War affected both public per-ceptions and intellectual life. It shapedthe work of the physicists and engineerswho engaged in defense research, of thesocial scientists specializing inKremlinology, of the novelists and cine-matographers who produced spythrillers. Inevitably, the Cold War contextfundamentally influenced all scholarshipon "real socialism," and especially schol-arship in the U. S. What did it mean tostudy Eastern Europe in that context?Without wishing to be overly autobio-graphical, I believe this sort of reflectionappropriately frames the production ofknowledge in which I have beenengaged, as seen in this book (WhatWas Socialism). I will emphasize boththe institutional environment and theprocesses of personal identity formationto which the Cold War was central in mycase, leaving aside other aspects of theNorth American academy or personalchoices to which it seems extraneous.

I began preparing to work inEastern Europe in 1971. In the mostgeneral sense, research there at thattime was possible only because a ColdWar was in progress and had awakenedU.S. interest in the region, and becausethat war had abated somewhat into"détente." Détente brought with it therise of funding organizations like theInternational Research and ExchangesBoard (IREX), created in 1968 expresslyto mediate scholarly exchanges with theSoviet bloc, and the National Council forSoviet and East European Research(NCSEER, 1978). Without détente, andwithout the desperate interest of socialistregimes in increased access to western

technology—the price they paid for itwas to let in scholars from the West—ourresearch there would have been impos-sible. Similarly, between 1973 and 1989ongoing scholarly access to the regiondepended on U. S. politicians' view thatgeneral knowledge about socialist coun-tries was of sufficient strategic impor-tance to warrant federal funding forresearch there.

Within my discipline, anthropol-ogy, there was little to incline one to workin Eastern Europe. On the contrary: in1971, when I began to think about whereI would go, Europe was not the place anovice anthropologist would choose.The great books in my field dealt withOceania, Africa, or Native America—with"primitives." Few anthropologists hadworked in Europe (being "our own" soci-ety, it had low prestige), and one rarelyfound their publications on graduate syl-labi. But anthropology has long reward-ed an “explorer principle”: go to unchart-ed territory. As of 1971, almost no field-work had been done in EasternEurope—precisely because of the ColdWar. It was less known to anthropologythan was New Guinea; this meant thatany research there would be "pioneer-ing." That appealed to me.

In addition to this professionalkind of allure one might note the roman-tic aura, the hint of danger, adventure,and the forbidden, that clung to the IronCurtain and infused the numerous spystories about those who penetrated it.To go behind the Iron Curtain would beto enter a heart of darkness differentfrom that of Conrad's Africa orMalinowski's Melanesia, but a darknessnonetheless. That I was susceptible tothis allure emerges retrospectively from

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certain features of my early life. Forexample, I still actively recall the launch-ing of Sputnik in 1957, when I was in thefourth grade. Although I surely did notunderstand its significance, I got thestrong message that it was very impor-tant indeed; my recollection of Sputnik isso clear that I remember vividly thespace of the classroom in which we weretalking about it (just as many peopleremember exactly where they werewhen they learned of PresidentKennedy's assassination). Then therewas my ill-fated attempt to teach myselfRussian when I was 12 (it founderedwhen I got to conjugations, something ofwhich I had never heard). Again, a fewyears later, out of an infinite array of pos-sible topics for my high school speechcontest, the subject I picked was theevils of Soviet Communism.

Finally, there was my reactionto the map of Europe that a fellow grad-uate student acquired just as I was delib-erating where to go for my dissertationresearch. As we looked at the wonderfulplace-names in Hungary, Czechos-lovakia, and Romania, I found myselfbecoming very excited. The closer wegot to the Black Sea, the more excited Ibecame: I was truly stirred at theprospect of working in a country havingall those terrific place-names. Since Ihad no specific research problem inmind (I just wanted to see what life"behind the Iron Curtain" would be like),nothing dictated my choice of a specificcountry to work in. I chose Romaniafrom the wholly pragmatic considerationthat at that moment, it was the only EastEuropean country in which it was possi-ble to do ethnographic fieldwork. Thereason was major upheavals in the other

countries—in Poland in 1968 and 1970,in Czechoslovakia in 1968, in Hungarywith its conflict-ridden shift to marketmechanisms beginning in 1968—leadingthem to close themselves off, whereasthe Romanian regime had recently cho-sen a path of greater openness. Thoseupheavals bespoke a growing crisis inthe socialist system, but the crisis wasdelayed in Romania; hence, its govern-ment permitted anthropological field-work—and, according to the Fulbrighthandbooks, even invited it.

Notwithstanding the invitation,the Cold War placed a number of con-straints on North Americans doingresearch there—on the kinds of topicswe might pursue, the ways we thoughtabout them, and our physical move-ments. Concerning possible researchtopics, for example, I could not have sub-mitted a proposal dealing with the organ-ization of socialism; hence, my two pro-posed research projects were a regionalanalysis of social-status concepts and astudy of the distribution of distinctiveethnographic microzones. When neitherof those proved feasible for the village Ifound myself in (Aurel Vlaicu), I did asocial history of Romanian-German eth-nic relations there—having been advisedagainst studying the local collectivefarm. Not only were my research topicsconstrained: so was the attitude I felt Icould adopt in my work. I accumulateddebts to the people I studied and to thegovernment whose research permit hadallowed me to gather data; outright criti-cism seemed inappropriate. Fortunately,my village respondents' more or lesspositive assessment of socialism duringthe early 1970s made it easy to avoidpublic criticism, as did my own admira-

tion for some of the achievements of theregime up to that point. It was only afterthe mid 1980s that my attitude becameunequivocally negative.

Another constraint—one thatproved especially formative for theanthropology of Eastern Europe—wasthe privileged place accorded the disci-pline of political science in creatingknowledge about the region, owing tothe strategic importance of the socialistworld for U. S. politics. In the absence ofa preexisting anthropological discourseon Europe more broadly, the hegemonyof political science strongly influencedthe way the anthropology of EasternEurope developed. It proved all tooeasy, in retrospect, for East Europeanistanthropologists to solve the problem ofhow to draw an audience by reacting tothe issues posed in political science.This meant adopting much of the con-ceptual agenda of that powerful disci-pline—nationalism, regime legitimacy,the planning process, development, thenature of power in socialist systems, andso forth—rather than defining a set ofproblems more directly informed by theintellectual traditions of anthropology. A third constraint on research during theCold War concerned spatial move-ments—a particular problem for anyonenot residing in a major city, as anthropol-ogists rarely do. For example, since Ihad inadvertently entered a military zoneon my motorbike soon after I arrived,county authorities were convinced that Iwas a spy, and the proximity of the vil-lage where I lived to an armaments fac-tory only confirmed this suspicion. Mymovements were closely monitoredthroughout the period between 1973 and1989, sometimes to comic proportions

(such as when the Securitate followedme after a trip to a hard-currency shop,and my truck-driver chauffeur—hauling ahuge crane—sought to shake them off).Whenever a local cop or some politicowanted to score points with those higherup, he might "confirm" my reputation asa spy, noting that I continued to workyear after year among people who com-muted to the armaments factory. (Thissuspicion was so firmly entrenched thatit followed me into the 1990s, andbeyond.) Thus, the Cold War turned meinto a resource the authorities could usein pursuit of their own advancement, aswell as a means to intimidate andseduce Romanian citizens into collabo-rating with the Securitate. During 1984-85, intense surveillance of not only mebut also my respondents finally made itimpossible to do fieldwork in rural areasat all. In this way, regime repressionaltered my entire research program,compelling me to abandon ethnographicprojects in villages for library researchand interviews with urban intellectuals. Ihad not planned that work (NationalIdeology under Socialism); it resulted, ineffect, from Romania's response to thatmoment in the Cold War.

The Cold War affected myresearch even in this new project, forsome of the intellectuals I worked withconsidered themselves dissidents intheir relation to the Party. They wereeager to talk with me, thereby attractingthat most crucial of dissident resources:western notice. The ongoing Cold Warhad made dissent within socialist coun-tries a weapon in the hands of westernones; internal dissent would spark inter-national protests and signature cam-paigns or other forms of pressure on

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socialist regimes. Thus, although mytopic—national ideology amongRomanian intellectuals—turned out to bemore sensitive than I had expected, Inever lacked for willing respondents.This was true in part because both theyand I were not merely "individuals" butpoints of intersection for the forcesengaged in a much larger political strug-gle: that between "Communism" and"the Free World."

The Cold War and Personal Identity

Those forces not only madecertain Romanians eager to speak withme but in a peculiar way may also haveacted even more deeply in my character,constituting my interest in EasternEurope as in part an intra-psychic one.In saying this, and in exploring the ColdWar's ramifications in personal identity, Ido not mean to claim that other scholars'motives for studying socialism arosefrom similar causes but only to probe fur-ther for the structuring effects of the ColdWar. As I recall my excitement at themap of Eastern Europe, alongside theother early signs of my fascination withRussia, I see an idiosyncratic affinitybetween the anticommunism of U.S.society and certain aspects of my per-sonality. Through the Cold War, SovietCommunism came to represent the ulti-mate in Absolute Power and Authority—that was, after all, what “totalitarianism”meant—something I found at once fright-ening and captivating. An epiphany dur-ing my fieldwork in the disastrous mid-1980s, when Romania was about thelast socialist country anyone would wantto be in (see note 14), led me to wonderat the roots of the fascination. Having

spent an exhilarating day with someRomanian friends getting around theendless obstacles the regime placed ineveryone's way, I realized that despitethe cold apartments and unavailablefood and constant Securitate surveil-lance, I was having a good time, and itcame from the satisfaction of defeatingAbsolute Authority. I realized all of asudden that the Party's claims to totalpower over Romanian society were sub-verted every day by thorough-goinganarchy, and that somehow I found suchan environment very invigorating: itappealed to a rebellious streak in mycharacter. Had the Cold War not madethe Soviet Union appear as AuthorityIncarnate, I might have found EasternEurope less interesting. And had the U.S. government not defined this incarnateauthority as the main threat to ournational security, there might have beenfewer material resources for pursuing mychoice. For these reasons, I believe, myresearch into socialism was the directproduct of the Cold War.

So, paradoxically, was my rela-tion to marxist theory, which has exer-cised much influence on my work. Aninterest in marxism did not precede myresearch in Romania but rather emergedfrom it. I first went "behind the IronCurtain" out of curiosity (enlivened bywhat I have said above), rather than fromany political or intellectual commitmentto marxist ideals. I wanted to see whatlife there would be like, not to offer a cri-tique of either their system or ours.When I departed for the field in August1973, I had read no Marx or Lenin—fur-ther testimony, I would say, to the effectsof the Cold War on North American intel-lectual life. As a result, the form in which

I first came really to know marxism wasits institutionalized and propagandizingone, encountered through the Romanianmedia and my fieldwork.

Witnessing the chasm that sep-arated this marxism's expressed goalsfrom the values and intentions of ordi-nary folk brought home to me how diffi-cult it would be to mobilize a revolutionwithout having first raised people’s politi-cal consciousness. The point was madesuccinctly in a conversation one day withtwo women, members of the collectivefarm in the village I was studying. Whenthey launched a contemptuous diatribeagainst the "lazy" Gypsies who hungaround the farm, I tried to explain howsocial structures can produce suchbehavior in people who have few oppor-tunities. As I spoke, one of the womenturned to the other and said, "She's moreof a socialist than we are!" Repeatedexposure to observations like this,together with Romanians' determinedrefusal to be made into "new socialistmen" despite their ready acknowledg-ment that they derived some benefitsfrom the system, served oddly to crystal-lize for me a new interest in socialism.Upon my return from Romania, in 1975,I discovered dependency theory andrelated neo-marxist writings, and Ientered a department (at Johns HopkinsUniversity) very respectful of Marx'sintellectual heritage. Reading andadmiring Capital was thus the culmina-tion, not the point of origin, of myresearch into "real socialism." The resultwas a commitment to the critique of cap-italist forms through the critical examina-tion of socialist ones. In my own modestexample, then, it might be said that thechickens of the Cold War came home to

roost.

The Study of Post-Socialism and theThemes of This Book

While one might think that thecollapse of the Soviet system would can-cel any further interest in it, I disagree.The Soviet Union may be irretrievablygone, but the electoral victories ofrenamed Communist Parties in Poland,Hungary, Bulgaria, and elsewhereshowed that the Party is far from over.Indeed, exposure to the rigors of primi-tive capitalism has made a number ofpeople in the region think twice abouttheir rejection of socialism and theirembrace of "the market." The formersocialist world is still well worth watching,for several reasons.

This post-socialist momentoffers at least three sets of opportunities,all having both scholarly and political sig-nificance. First is the opportunity tounderstand better what is actually hap-pening in the region, if we can set asidethe triumphalist assumption that free-market democracies are the inevitableoutcome. How are East Europeansactually managing their exit from social-ism? Just what does it take to createcapitalism and "free" markets? Whatsorts of human engineering, not to men-tion violence, chaos, and despair, doesthat entail? What are the hidden costs ofestablishing new nation-states? (Theanswers offered by former Yugoslaviaare disquieting, to say the least.) Do theelectoral victories of the re-formed andrenamed communist parties reflect sim-ply their better organization based inlong experience, or genuine public feel-ing about desirable political ends that

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they articulate better than others—orperhaps something altogether different,such as people's wish to be "villagers"rather than reverting to the "peasant"status that post-socialist parties wouldforce on them? Work on such questionswould permit a more nuanced assess-ment both of our own "western" trajecto-ry and of the policies that might beappropriate toward one or another coun-try of the region. To investigate thesequestions, I argue in this book, requiresa theoretically grounded understandingof the system that has crumbled and anethnographic sensitivity to the particularsof what is emerging from its ruins. Thisis not an agenda only for anthropolo-gists, but it does require suspending apriori judgment about the outcome. Italso means acknowledging that suchphenomena as "privatization," "markets,""civil society," and so on are objects ofinvestigation saturated with ideologicalsignificance; we must question, ratherthan mindlessly reinforce, them.

A second opportunity, related tothe first, is to broaden a critique of west-ern economic and political forms by see-ing them through the eyes of those expe-riencing their imposition. The forcedpace of privatization, for example,reveals with special clarity the darkerside of capitalism. Far from being meredemagoguery, nationalist objections tothe plundering of these countries' wealthare reactions to visible processes ofimpoverishment; so too are populist rev-elations of "corruption." "Democracy" isbeing unmasked, as the export of west-ern electoral practices makes their fail-ings transparent, arousing shocked com-mentary—from Poles and EastGermans, for instance, at the emphasis

on soundbites and candidate packaging,to the detriment of debate over principlesand ideas. It is possible that asRomanians, Russians, Poles, Latvians,and others live through the effort to cre-ate liberal democracies and marketeconomies, they will be driven to a criti-cism of these forms even more articulatethan before, and perhaps to new imagin-ings of a more viable socialism.

Such new imaginings would bethe more fruitful if coupled with the thirdopportunity of this post-socialist conjunc-ture: the fuller understanding of actually-existing socialism itself. Whether onesees it as a system sui generis or as apeculiar and repellent version of capital-ism, its features distinguished it fromother socio-political organizations ofhuman activity. Now that its archives aremore accessible to researchers, we maylearn a great deal about how it func-tioned. This would enable thinking differ-ently about how to avoid its mistakes,and that, in turn, would continue thethrust of some of the pre-1989 work onthe region. For a number of scholars,part of the impetus for studying socialismwas to combat both the stereotypingpropaganda about it so common in theU. S. media and also the utopian andidealized images held by western leftistswho had not experienced living in it;these aims contributed to a larger projectof political critique. The goal of furtherstudy might be simply the ethnographicone of trying to grasp the variety ofhuman social arrangements. More polit-ically, the goal might be to consider pos-sible futures and signal the problemswith some of them; for critics of capital-ism, knowledge and critique of the actu-al forms of socialism was and should

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remain a foremost priority, part of a per-sistent quest for viable alternatives to ourown way of life. For both these goals,investigating socialism was a usefultask. I believe it still is.

[The present set of essays aimsto encourage work on socialism andpost-socialism in these directions. It isnot primarily a book about Romania (thearea of my research), even though muchof my material comes from that country,but rather a book indicating how wemight think about what socialism wasand what comes after it. Some mightargue that Romania is not a "typical"case and therefore is a poor guide forpost-socialist studies, but I do not sharethis opinion. No socialist country was"typical"; each had its specificities andeach shared certain features with somebut not all other countries of the bloc. Toassume that conclusions drawn fromone will apply to all would be unwise, butmaterial from any of them can neverthe-less raise questions that might provefruitful elsewhere. That is my purposehere. Therefore, I include papers on themain themes of the "transition" litera-ture—civil society, marketization, privati-zation, and nationalism. My treatment ofthese themes differs considerably fromother things being written on them, how-ever; I hope the differences will stimulatethought..]

…Taken as a whole, this volume

constitutes a dissent from the prevailingdirections of much transitological writing.It not only employs an understanding ofsocialism's workings that is far fromwidespread in scholarship about theregion but also views the central con-cepts of research into post-socialism

with a skeptical eye. This skepticismcomes from being not at all sure aboutwhat those central concepts—privateproperty, democracy, markets, citizen-ship and civil society—actually mean.They are symbols in the constitution ofour own "western" identity, and their realcontent becomes ever more elusive aswe inspect how they are supposedly tak-ing shape in the former Soviet bloc.Perhaps this is because the world inwhich these foundational concepts havedefined "the West" is itself changing—something of which socialism's collapseis a symptom (not a cause). Thechanges of 1989 did more than disturbwestern complacency about the "newworld order" and preempt the imaginedfraternity of a new European Union: theysignaled that a thorough-going reorgani-zation of the globe is in course. In thatcase, we might wonder at the effort toimplant perhaps-obsolescent westernforms in "the East." This is what I mean:what comes next is anybody's guess.

This text is a modified version of theintroductory chapter of “What WasSocialism, and What Come Next”, pub-lished at Princeton University Press.

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1972 and 1975) began requesting per-mission to live and work for 12-18months in rural settlements, the govern-ment may have begun to rethink its posi-tion; some of us who had worked withoutextensive surveillance during the 1970sfound the climate much more tense bythe early 1980s.11. These constraints did not precludesound and independent research, how-ever. See the exchange on that questionin the Social Science ResearchCouncil's newsletter Items forJune/September 1994 and March 1995.12. Following either 1989 or the emigra-tion of friends prior to that year, I learnedof several cases in which people I knewhad been urged to collaborate with thepolice, having been assured that I was atreacherous spy.13. Surveillance was stepped up in partowing to the regime's austerity program.During the 1980s, the Romanian govern-ment decided to repay the foreign debtahead of schedule so as to escape thepossibilities for foreign leverage thatPoland's debt crisis had made all tooapparent. Squeezing the population tothe wall by reducing supplies of fuel andfood, the regime hoped to generateenough hard currency to pay off thedebt. But under these circumstances,which might lead to rebellion, anAmerican at large was extremely dan-gerous and had to be closely watched.Adding to this was the suspicion that Iwas not only a spy but a closetHungarian (see note 15).14. Nor would I say that the matters I dis-cuss here are all there is to say aboutpersonal identity in relation to researchin Eastern Europe. In my own case, forexample, at least as important was my

suspected implication in Romanian-Hungarian national conflicts. I becamean unwitting party to these because ofthe ethnic jokes in my first book(Transylvanian Villagers), as well as theform of my name, with its magyar-likefirst-syllable accent and -y ending. Formany years, as a result, Romaniansunhappy with one or another aspect ofmy work have labeled me Hungarian.(My ancestry is French.) It is likely thatthis imputed identity caused me far moreproblems than did the climate of the ColdWar.15. See Gerald Creed, “The Politics ofAgriculture in Bulgaria." Slavic Review54:843-68.16. See the superb ethnographic workby non-anthropologists such as JosephBerliner, Michael Burawoy, MáriaCsanádi, István Rév, and Michael Urban.17. I think especially of scholars such asMichael Burawoy, Caroline Humphrey,David Kideckel, Sam Beck, GailKligman, John Cole, and StevenSampson (in addition to myself).

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Notes

1. The exact figure for the numbers whodied during the 1930s is contested.Robert Conquest gives 14.5 million fordeaths resulting from collectivization andthe famine in the Ukraine, and 13 millionfrom Stalin's purges. (His figures aregenerally thought to be high.) SeeRobert Conquest, The Harvest ofSorrow: Soviet Collectivization and theTerror-Famine (New York: OxfordUniversity Press, 1986), p. 306, and TheGreat Terror: Stalin's Purge of theThirties (New York: Macmillan, 1968),Appendix 1. For a discussion of con-trasting opinions on numbers in thegulag, see Edwin Bacon, The Gulag atWar: Stalin's Forced Labour System inthe Light of the Archives (London:Macmillan, 1994), 1-41.2. I prefer this term to the word"Communism," which none of the Soviet-bloc countries claimed to exemplify. Allwere governed by Communist Partiesbut identified themselves as socialistrepublics, on the path to trueCommunism.3. For example, the resignations fromvarious western Communist Parties inthe wake of the Soviet invasions ofHungary in 1956 and Czechoslovakia in1968 (not to mention the people inEastern Europe who either abandonedParty work or refused to join as a resultof these actions).4. Cf. Rudolph Bahro's term "actuallyexisting socialism," in his The Alternativein Eastern Europe (London: Verso,1978).5. For a useful discussion of some prop-erties of American anticommunism, seeM. G. Heale, American Anticommunism:

Combating the Enemy Within, 1830-1970 (Baltimore: Johns HopkinsUniversity Press, 1990).6. I understand détente as a symptom ofthe growing systemic crisis in both worldcapitalism and socialism.7. Other organizations include theKennan Institute and the East EuropeanProgram of the Woodrow Wilson Centerand the ACLS/SSRC Joint Committeeson Eastern Europe and Soviet Studies.All these benefited from at least partialfunding through the Congressional Actknown as Title VIII, passed in 1984.Most of my own research was supportedby IREX.8. The only ethnographic fieldwork doneprior to détente was in Serbia, resultingin Eugene Hammel's Alternative SocialStructures and Ritual Relations in theBalkans (Englewood Cliffs, NJ: Prentice-Hall, 1968), and Joel Halpern's ASerbian Village (New York: ColumbiaUniversity Press, 1958). 9. Succession anxieties in Yugoslavia,together with some scandals in the late1960s over anthropologists' allegedinvolvement in intelligence, precludedresearch in that country; the stronglyphilo-Soviet Bulgarian government waseven less receptive.10. Retrospectively, it is possible that the"anthropology" Romania thought it waswelcoming was physical anthropology,rather than socio-cultural, for the formerhad a certain importance in Romaniawhile the latter in its North American vari-ant was unknown. As soon as a few U Ssocio-cultural anthropologists (AndreasArgyres, myself, John Cole, StevenSampson, Sam Beck, David Kideckel,Marilyn MacArthur, and Steven Randall,all of whom worked in Romania between

[16] [17]

In his appraisal of mass societies,Theodor W. Adorno briefly discussedthose changes in Western economiesthat had helped to transform the earlierliberal phase of ‘free market’ capitalismat the turn of the twentieth century.Responding in part to these changes,governments legislated into existencesocial welfare institutions and agenciesthat quickly became more or less per-manent fixtures in their liberal democrat-ic states. Even as he recognized thatthe welfare state had alleviated some ofthe inequities caused by capitalism,Adorno was also concerned about theloss of individual autonomy and spon-taneity that seemed to accompany itsemergence. He was very critical of theincreasingly oppressive extension ofbureaucratic state agencies into the pri-vate lives of individuals, warning thatstate control might reach totalitarian pro-portions, even in purportedly democrat-ic countries. Observing that individualswere growing more and more depend-ent on the state as its powers increased,and noting their often servile deferenceto the rule of ‘experts’ and technocrats,Adorno feared that individuals wouldrelinquish the independence whichserves as a necessary condition for

Adorno On Late Capitalism:Totalitarianism and the Welfare State

by Deborah Cook

AROUND

[18] [19]

toward state capitalism was growing …in the non-totalitarian states’, Pollockthought that relatively little work hadbeen devoted to understanding thedemocratic form of state capitalism; amore comprehensive model still neededto be constructed for it.3 Additionalresearch was also required to determinewhether democracy could survive understate capitalism. While control over theeconomy might remain in the hands of asmall political group or faction, Pollockspeculated that, in the long run, eco-nomic planning could be carried outmore or less democratically.

Pollock’s thesis generated some contro-versy among his co-workers at theInstitute for Social Research. One ofthese was Franz Neumann, a lawyerand administrator for the Institute wholater worked as an economist for theUnited States government during WorldWar II. In his Behemoth – which offers adetailed analysis of economic conditionsunder the Third Reich – Neumannlaunched a qualified attack on Pollock’sview that Germany could be describedas state capitalist. He argued thatPollock’s state capitalism thesis actuallyamounted to the claim that there was nolonger any freedom of trade, contract, orinvestment under National Socialism;that Germany’s market had been abol-ished; that the German state had com-plete control over wages and prices,eliminating exchange value; and thatlabour was now appropriated by a ‘polit-ical act’.4 Neumann called this thesisinto question, showing that the NationalSocialists had no economic theory oftheir own, and rejecting the idea thatNazi Germany was organized along cor-

poratist lines. He also demonstrated thatprivate property and private control overcapital had been retained in Hitler’sregime.

At the same time, however, Neumanndid concede that, in Nazi Germany,‘possession of the state machinery … isthe pivotal question around whicheverything else revolves’. And, forNeumann, this was ‘the only possiblemeaning of the primacy of politics overeconomics’.5 On Neumann’s assess-ment, the National Socialist economyhad two general characteristics: it was‘a monopolistic economy – and a com-mand economy’, a conjunction for whichNeumann coined the term ‘totalitarianmonopoly capitalism’. In other words,the German economy under the ThirdReich was ‘a private monopolistic econ-omy, regimented by the totalitarianstate’.6 Recognizing, then, that aspectsof a command economy had been putinto place, Neumann proceeded toexamine the extent of the Germanstate’s intervention in the economy, tak-ing into account the state’s direct eco-nomic activities, its control over prices,investments, profits, foreign trade andlabour, and the role of the NationalSocialist Party.7 He concluded that eco-nomic activity in the Third Reich hadpreserved much of its former autonomy.However, owing to the way in which theeconomy had been monopolized bylarge industrial and business concerns,profits could not be ‘made and retainedwithout totalitarian political power’.8 Thisis allegedly what distinguished NaziGermany from other Western states(though, given the growing monopoly oncapital in these other states, one has to

resistance to repression and economicexploitation.

A number of commentators have mis-leadingly maintained that Adornoviewed the welfare state as a variant ofwhat an associate and co-worker at theInstitute for Social Research was calling‘state capitalism’. Simply put, with hisstate capitalism thesis, Friedrich Pollockalleged that the command and mixedeconomies of the 1920s and 1930smarked the ‘transition from a predomi-nantly economic to an essentially politi-cal era’.1 Initially, this state capitalismthesis will be contrasted with Adorno’sown view of twentieth-century liberaldemocracies. Later in the article, I shallassess Adorno’s position in light of con-temporary criticisms that have been lev-elled against his work. This evaluationof Adorno’s work is not only necessaryto correct the secondary literature; it willalso provide the opportunity to flesh outAdorno’s ideas about the relationshipbetween the state and the economy –ideas which, though sketchy, nonethe-less implicitly occupied an importantplace in his work as a whole. In addition,these ideas may help to reframe histori-cal and theoretical considerations aboutthe role that democratic political sys-tems have played, and might yet play, incapitalist economies.

Pollock and Neumann on the ThirdReich

During the 1930s and 1940s, Pollocktried to account for what was beingviewed as a new development within thecapitalist economies of the West. Withthe command economy of the Third

Reich, and the mixed economy of theUnited States (represented by the NewDeal), a qualitative shift had taken placesuch that the earlier liberal phase ofcapitalism had been superseded byeither totalitarian or non-totalitarian (for-mal democratic) variants of state capi-talism. Production and distribution in theeconomies of these and other countrieswere increasingly being taken underdirect political or state control.Acknowledging that industrial and busi-ness managers continue to play animportant role in the newer phase,Pollock nonetheless maintained that theprofit motive had been supplanted bythe power motive in command or mixedeconomies. Of course, profits stillaccrue to producers under state capital-ism, but they can now often be madeonly when goods are produced in accor-dance with the ‘general plan’ of a stateor political party. Pollock further believedthat by establishing wage and price con-trols, the state also succeeded in con-trolling distribution either through directallocation to consumers or via a ‘pseu-do-market’ that served to regulate con-sumption.

Pollock recognized that his thesis wasnot new; a number of writers hadalready studied the ways in which liber-al economies had increasingly comeunder the control of the state. At thesame time, he also admitted that hisstate capitalism thesis could not beverified empirically in every respect.Constructed ‘from elements long visiblein Europe and, to a certain degree inAmerica’, the thesis was meant to serveonly as a model, a Weberian ‘idealtype’.2 Moreover, although ‘the trend

[21]

present Adorno’s own discussion of themore salient features of late capitalism(or the phase of capitalism that suc-ceeds its liberal ‘free market’ stage). Ishall begin by examining Adorno’s earli-er work and then present some of hislater ideas on the connections betweenthe economy and the state in the West.

Adorno and Horkheimer on “late capital-ism”

In Dialectic of Enlightenment,Horkheimer and Adorno wrote that lifeunder capitalism was becoming com-pletely administered, taken under con-trol by various agencies, organizationsand institutions in the West. They usedthe phrase ‘totally administered world’ todescribe conditions in the newer eco-nomic phase, and warned of theiroppressive effects. Yet it is not immedi-ately apparent that the authors thoughtthat administration in Western stateswas state capitalist in character. In fact,there are few passages in Dialectic ofEnlightenment which confirm the viewthat Adorno and Horkheimer simplyadopt wholesale Pollock’s state capital-ism thesis – even as an ideal type.Although the authors write in their intro-duction that individuals have become‘totally devalued in relation to the eco-nomic powers, which at the same timepress the control of society over natureto hitherto unsuspected heights’,15 theydo not claim that these economic pow-ers have been taken under state control.Moreover, throughout the main body ofthe text, Horkheimer and Adorno werelargely concerned with describing theimpact of an ostensibly apolitical capital-istic economic ‘apparatus’ on the indi-

vidual. It is the primacy of the economy,not of politics or ‘state capitalism’, thatlooms largest in their analysis.

Contrasting the ruling ‘cliques which ulti-mately embody economic necessity’16 tothe general directors(Generaldirektoren) who execute as‘results … the old law of value andhence the destiny of capitalism’,17

Horkheimer and Adorno imply that theformer operate more or less independ-ently of the latter, and that economic(not political) laws govern both. In theirchapter on the myth of Odysseus, theauthors coin the phrase ‘totalitarian cap-italism’ (totalitärer Kapitalismus)18 torefer to the socio-economic conditionswhich they had described earlier as late(spät) capitalist.19 Horkheimer andAdorno never used the phrase ‘statecapitalism’ in their discussion of prevail-ing conditions in the West. Moreover,economic factors – not the allegedlypolitical control of the economy by thestate or by political parties, as inPollock’s state capitalism thesis – occu-py the better part of their attention.

There are, however, two passages inDialectic of Enlightenment which mightlend credence to the claim that Adornoand Horkheimer adopted Pollock’s the-sis. In their discussion of the cultureindustry, the authors make passing ref-erence to the emerging welfare state innon-totalitarian countries, where ‘men intop posts maintain the economy inwhich the highly-developed technologyhas in principle made the massesredundant as producers’.20 This some-what ambiguous passage could be usedto substantiate the interpretations cited

[20]

wonder why totalitarian political powerarose only in Nazi Germany).

Commentators on this debate betweenPollock and Neumann often maintainthat Adorno simply adopted Pollock’sstate capitalism thesis in his own analy-ses of developments in the West. Forexample, Helmut Dubiel believes thatboth Adorno and Max Horkheimer sidedwith Pollock, adapting his argument totheir assessment of changes in thedevelopment of capitalism.9 David Heldagrees with Dubiel; and like Dubiel, Heldalso refers to Dialectic of Enlightenmentby way of substantiation without quotingrelevant passages from this work inorder to support his view.10

Nevertheless, Held also points out thatHorkheimer and Adorno expressedambivalence about this thesis in theirlater work. Referring to Adorno, Heldnotes that, ‘Though the main principleswhich underpin his view of capitalismare compatible with Pollock’s position, areading of essays like ‘Gesellschaft’[Society] (1966) and‘Spätkapitalismus oderIndustriegesellschaft?’ [Late Capitalismor Industrial Society?] (1968) suggest …that while Adorno thought that classconflict and crisis can potentially bemanaged, he did not think that theywould necessarily be managed suc-cessfully.’11

In his recent work on Neumann’s andOtto Kirchheimer’s critique of the liberalrule of law under the welfare state,William Scheuerman also refers toDialectic of Enlightenment (again with-out quoting it directly) to substantiate hisclaim that Horkheimer and Adornoadopted Pollock’s state capitalism the-

sis in order to explain both the ‘totallyadministered world’ in non-totalitariancountries and ‘the Nazis’ success inovercoming all the tensions that hadplagued earlier forms of capitalism’.12

Theoretical and political differencessubsequently emerged betweenNeumann and Kirchheimer in the east-ern United States, and Pollock,Horkheimer and Adorno in the West –differences that ended in the break-up ofthe original Frankfurt School. In his ownassessment of Adorno’s work, DouglasKellner makes a similar point: ‘AlthoughPollock’s theses were sharply disputedby Grossmann, Neumann and the moreorthodox Marxian members of theInstitute …, in various ways Horkheimer,Adorno and Marcuse built their theory ofthe transition to a new stage of capital-ism on Pollock’s analysis, while devel-oping their Critical Theory of contempo-rary society from this vantage point.’13

What is surprising about Kellner’s inter-pretation of Adorno is that Kellner alsorecognizes that Adorno was highly criti-cal of Pollock’s thesis. In a letter toHorkheimer, cited by Kellner, Adornowrote that Pollock’s essay ‘was marredby the “undialectical position that in anantagonistic society a non-antagonisticeconomy was possible”’.14 Adorno main-tained that Pollock’s thesis failed to takeinto account the crisis-ridden nature ofcapitalism in the 1930s. In fact, Pollockhad argued that the newly politicizedeconomic order could respond to all theproblems that had arisen in the earlierliberal phase and resolve successfullyall the economic difficulties it might con-front – albeit possibly only through total-itarian means. In what follows, I want to

[22]

earlier. In a later remark in their notesand drafts on the punitive techniquesemployed by ‘fascism’, Horkheimer andAdorno assert that the NationalSocialists punish both the body and the‘soul’. In this, ‘fascism’ differs from whatthe authors (following Alexis deTocqueville) call ‘bourgeois republics’,which generally punish the ‘soul’ alone.Horkheimer and Adorno explain thatunder fascism, ‘The concentration ofcontrol over all production brings socie-ty back to the stage of direct rule. Whenthe market system is abolished in anation, intervening intellectual opera-tions, including law, also disappear.’21

There is no ambiguity in this passage. Incontrast to bourgeois republics, theNational Socialists exercised directphysical and psychological control overGerman citizens as they took control ofthe means of production. Neumann’sarguments notwithstanding, the authorsbelieve that the power motive hadsuperseded the profit motive in NaziGermany. It is, however, important tostress that Horkheimer and Adorno dis-tinguished ‘fascism’ in this regard fromnon-totalitarian states. If Nazi Germanycould be described as state capitalist inPollock’s sense of this term, the authorsrefrained from describing other Westernstates in this way.

In a 1942 essay, ‘Reflexionen zurKlassentheorie’ (‘Observations on theTheory of Classes’), Adorno makes sim-ilar claims about the relationshipbetween the economy and the state inthe West. Although he does remark onthe growing ‘liquidation of the econo-my’22 in his ‘Observations’, Adorno con-tinues to stress its primacy. He never

explicitly agrees with Pollock that statecontrol over the economy is characteris-tic of the newer phase of capitalism.Observing the emergence of a new oli-garchical ruling class in many Westernstates, Adorno argues that this classhas disappeared ‘behind the concentra-tion of capital’, which has reached sucha ‘size and acquired such a critical massthat capital appears as an institution, asan expression of the entire society’.23

Owing in part to the concentration ofcapital, then, the ruling class wasbecoming ‘anonymous’, making it muchmore difficult to identify those in control.Here again, Adorno describes the capi-talist economy as ‘totalitarian’, and itstotalitarian character is due largely tothe lack of competition under monopolyconditions.

However, it should also be noted thatAdorno did speak of ‘the immediate eco-nomic and political command of thegreat [der Großen] that oppresses boththose who support it [the bourgeoisie]and the workers with the same policethreat, imposes on them the same func-tion and the same need, and thusmakes it virtually impossible for workersto see through the class relation.’24 Inthis passage, Adorno suggested thatpower in mass societies is wielded byboth economic and political agents –though he did not explicitly claim thatthe former had been subordinated to thelatter. In fact, in most passages in thisessay, the reverse seems to be thecase: politics follows the lead of eco-nomic developments (including changesin the relations of production). Adorno’sview that economic factors continue tobe primary in mass societies (or at least

[23]

as primary as political factors), is bol-stered by his claims about reificationand the continued existence of classes.If Adorno had actually adopted Pollock’sstate capitalism thesis, he would havebeen obliged to qualify carefully the ideahe expresses throughout his work that,under the guise of exchange value, themarket system has been extended tovirtually all areas of human life, promot-ing reification. And he certainly wouldnot have stated so baldly in a 1965essay that ‘[p]rofit comes first’ in masssocieties.25

In Behemoth, Neumann had observedthat, ‘If one believes that Germany’seconomy is no longer capitalistic underNational Socialism, it is easy to believefurther that her society has becomeclassless.’26 Paraphrasing Neumann,one could also state that if Adorno hadbelieved that non-totalitarian stateswere no longer capitalist, it would havebeen easier for him to deny the exis-tence of classes. Yet Adorno did insiston the continued existence of classes inthese states – as is clear from hisremarks in ‘Observations on the Theoryof Classes’. Although the subjectiveawareness of belonging to a class haddiminished, and the composition ofclasses in mass societies had changed,‘the division of society into exploitersand exploited not only continues to existbut gains in force and strength’.27 Thebourgeoisie, which once consisted ofrelatively independent entrepreneurs,lost much of its economic power as theearlier liberal phase was transformed bythe concentration of capital (and theresulting decrease in competition). Thisled to the formation of a new mass class

comprising both the middle class andthe workers. On Adorno’s account, thischange in the composition of classesunder the later phase of capitalismconfirms Marx’s prediction about a soci-ety stratified into a ‘few property ownersand the overwhelming mass of the prop-ertyless’.28

These ideas about the continued exis-tence of classes are repeated through-out Adorno’s work. In his 1965 essay,‘Society’, for example, Adorno main-tained that ‘society remains class socie-ty’,29 because ‘the difference betweenthe classes grows objectively with theincreasing concentration of capital’.30

Three years later, in ‘Late Capitalism orIndustrial Society?’, Adorno clearlylinked his analysis of classes to the ideathat the economic forces are primary.He claimed that if one were to assumethat mass societies are industrial ratherthan capitalist in character, this mightsuggest that mass societies hadbecome ‘so thoroughly dominated byunanticipated technological develop-ments that the notion of social relations… has by comparison lost much of itsrelevance, if it has not become illusoryaltogether’.31 By contrast, if, as Adornobelieved, relations of production areparamount (and forces of production are‘mediated by the relations of produc-tion’) then the industrial society thesis isnot true in all respects because the cap-italist system still predominates.32

Recognizing that it had become difficultto apply Marxist criteria to existing con-ditions, Adorno nonetheless assertedthat, judging by the criterion of owner-ship of the means of production, theclass relationship was most obvious in

[24]

North America.33

However, Adorno did concede that therewas some truth to the claim that politicalcontrol over the economy is growing.The idea that ‘control of economicforces is increasingly becoming a func-tion of political power is true in the sensethat it can be deduced from the dynam-ics of the system as a whole’.34

Expressed as a general tendency, then,state power is gaining ground – and, byimplication, Nazi Germany becomesparadigmatic of trends that are more orless latent in other Western nations. YetAdorno strongly limits this claim aboutpolitical domination in non-totalitariancountries when he adds that there arealso ‘compelling facts which cannot intheir turn be adequately interpretedwithout invoking the key concept of“capitalism”’. As Adorno continued toargue: ‘Human beings are, as much asever, ruled and dominated by the eco-nomic process.’ Consequently, ‘Now asmuch as ever, the societal process pro-duces and reproduces a class struc-ture.’35 The state capitalism thesis isthus confirmed only in light of very gen-eral (economic) trends or tendencies inmass societies. Although David Held iscorrect when he claims that there is an‘ambivalence’ in Adorno’s later workwith regard to Pollock’s state capitalistthesis, this ambivalence is not confinedto the later work.

Adorno’s ‘ambivalence’ appears againin his response to Ralf Dahrendorf’s crit-icisms of his ‘Late Capitalism’ essay. ForAdorno, there could be little disagree-ment that mass societies were tendingtowards political domination. Adorno

also explained that this growing politicalcontrol over the economy in the Westwas itself the outgrowth of economicconditions. If this economically driventrend towards political domination con-tinued, and ‘political forms of contempo-rary society were radically compelled tofollow economic ones, contemporarysociety would, to put it succinctly, steerdirectly towards forms that are definedmeta-economically – that is, towardsforms which are no longer defined byclassical exchange mechanisms’.36 YetAdorno did not believe it was inevitablethat this tendency – and he emphasizedhere that he was speaking explicitly of atendency, as opposed to a fully realizedstate of affairs – would be realized fullyin every state. Only if it were, would astate capitalist reading of the ‘totallyadministered world’ be substantiated.Hence Scheuerman’s remarks aboutthe administered world’s totalitarianpolitical character are not confirmed byAdorno’s assessment of prevailing con-ditions in the West.

At the end of his essay on late capital-ism, Adorno offers a number of equallybrief but interesting remarks about thefactors responsible for state interventionin the economy. He describes suchintervention as ‘immanent to the system’– a form of ‘self-defence’.37 Since heimmediately preceded this remark with adiscussion of relations of production (orclass relations) under late capitalism,Adorno could be understood as implyingthat state intervention (in the form of amixed economy or state planning) rep-resents a defence against class conflict.If this implication is correct, Adornoappears to take up the view that state

[25]

intervention was initiated – at least inpart – as a response to social conflicts(real or potential). While this view isproblematic – and I shall explain whylater in the article – it is a fairly commonone. For Adorno, state intervention inthe economy serves to counter thethreat arising from those ‘as yet unrevo-lutionized relations of production’ whosepower is ‘greater than in the past’.38

The logic of state intervention

Citing Hegel’s Philosophy of Right,Adorno maintains that the relationshipbetween the state and the economy is adialectical one. For Hegel, the state isthe dialectical outcome of the interplayof laws and interests in civil society(bürgerliche Gesellschaft) where indi-viduals satisfy their particular needs andinterests by way of exchange in the eco-nomic system (and through other formsof association). Intervening in civil soci-ety ‘from the outside with the help of thepolice’, the state ultimately ends by sub-lating the economy.39 Here the ‘police’ –which, for Hegel, included public author-ities concerned with alleviating poverty –helps the state to ‘actualize and main-tain the universal contained within theparticularity of civil society’ by mediatingbetween private relations (the family)and the state. The control exercised bythe police ‘takes the form of an externalsystem and organization for the protec-tion and security of particular ends andinterests en masse, inasmuch as theseinterests subsist only in this universal’.40

By means of the ‘police’, then, the uni-versal interests of the state succeed inprevailing over the particular interests ofcivil society, including economic inter-

ests.

However, Adorno did not claim that thisHegelian account of state intervention inthe economy could be used to describeexisting conditions in non-totalitarianmass societies. Correspondingly, heimplicitly rejected the application ofPollock’s state capitalism thesis to suchconditions: If it has long been argued onthe basis of interventionism and, evenmore, of centralized planning, that latecapitalism is far removed from the anar-chy of commodity production and istherefore no longer capitalism, one mustrespond that the social fate of individu-als is just as precarious as it was in thepast.

Pointing to critics who have shown thatthe liberal market never worked in theway its liberal apologists claimed – thatit was never a truly ‘free’ market –Adorno thinks it ironic that this critique ofliberalism has been ‘revived in the the-sis that capitalism is not really capitalis-tic’.41 In contrast to this thesis, Adornonot only argues that the economic sys-tem has survived owing in part to stateintervention; he also claims that suchintervention has actually served toensure the continued primacy of thecapitalist economy: ‘What is extraneousto the [socio-economic] system revealsitself as constitutive of the system, eventhe political tendency itself. With inter-ventionism, the resistive power of thesystem is confirmed.’42

At the same time, Adorno also reiteratesthe remarks he had made earlier in theessay when he acknowledged that stateintervention tendentially confirms ‘the

[26]

crisis theory of capitalism’. It does sobecause ‘the telos of state interventionis direct political domination independ-ent of market mechanisms’.43 Aided bythe police and the military, and abettedby public authorities (such as state wel-fare agencies and institutions), the statebegins to assume greater economicfunctions under a system of total admin-istration. Yet this growing trend towardspolitical domination has never been fullyrealized in most Western states.Continuing with his interpretation ofHegel in his response to RalfDahrendorf, Adorno writes that by ‘evok-ing powers from out of itself – the so-called corporations and police’ – civilsociety attempts to ‘function integrally’so as not to ‘fall to pieces’. AlthoughHegel saw this ‘as something positive,in the mean time we have learned mostthoroughly from fascism … what therenewed transition to direct dominationcan mean’.44 Hegel’s account of the tran-sition to political domination helped toexplain changes transforming liberalcapitalism in one Western country: NaziGermany. This account – which seesthe state backed in part by the terroristtactics of the police and military – thushad a limited application, even though,once again, it could also serve toexplain totalitarian tendencies in otherWestern nations.

In these other nations, the widening gapbetween property owners and the prop-ertyless was one of the factors respon-sible for state intervention – in the formof social security and the limited redistri-bution of wealth (but also, one mightadd, in the form of bureaucratic, policeand military control). Adorno thus

implied that state intervention was initi-ated in part in order to stave off radicalor revolutionary class conflicts.However, the idea that the welfare staterepresents a political response to real orpotential class conflict is somewhatproblematic. On Christopher Lowe’saccount of the development of the ‘biggovernment’ characteristic of the wel-fare state, the latter did not originate pri-marily in the ‘need to solve social prob-lems’ but rather ‘in the need to establishthe institutional conditions and forms forthe accumulation, re-investment andorganizational control of the capitalgathered as markets were unfettered’.In short: ‘Capitalism created big govern-ment in order for government to helpcreate the conditions for expanded cap-ital.’45

The economic historian Herman Van derWee agrees with the main lines ofLowe’s assessment. Before World WarII, the state had been intervening in theeconomy not to solve social problems,but to ‘ensure that profits and incomeswere restored to orderly levels’.46 AfterWorld War II, John Maynard Keynes’spolicy of ‘full employment, social securi-ty, income redistribution, and mutual co-operation’ was adopted in manyWestern countries as a means to theend of economic growth. Although theform and degree of state interventionnever conformed entirely to whatKeynes had recommended, the policiesof this British economist did help toencourage earlier trends. To varyingdegrees, postwar countries like Britain,Sweden, the United States, France andItaly ‘went over to economic planning inorder to be able to specify extra-high

[27]

growth rates and ensure they wereachieved’.47 Moreover, such interventionwas supported not only by left-wingpolitical parties concerned with socialand economic inequalities; parties onthe right and centre themselves ‘defend-ed the principle of a sizeable extensionof government intervention into eco-nomic life, and they gained considerablesupport from industrialists, bankers, andintellectuals’.48

Van der Wee also observes that the ten-dency towards state intervention in theeconomy appears to be reversing itself.Keynesian theory assumed ‘optimallysized firms’ and ‘a competitive market’.49

But, as mixed economies developed inthe West, the growth of multinationals(and the resulting decline in competitionunder monopoly conditions) calledthese assumptions into question.Recent economic conditions are sub-stantially different from the ones Keynesoriginally described. After the 1974–75economic crisis, ‘the enthusiasm forplanning and central consultation wanedand most governments turned back tothe concepts of orthodox monetarism’.50

Explaining that there were other, deep-er, causes for this retrenchment, Vander Wee cites growing world criticism asone of these causes – including theFrankfurt School among the critics ofthe welfare state. Adorno and his col-leagues acknowledged that the techni-cal civilization which was supposed toachieve Utopia in socialist societies wasin fact attained by the mixed economiesduring their postwar development intowelfare states. Yet this technical welfarecivilization had little or no emancipatorypotential and in fact tended to alienate

rather than satisfy. Moreover, it integrat-ed the working class totally into its valuesystem, so that the traditional socialbasis for revolution was lost. Lastly itcreated an educated elite which,through the co-operation between thebureaucratic state apparatus and thetechnostructure of big business, wasable to establish and perpetuate its ownpower.51

Technology and Utopia

Van der Wee’s assessment of CriticalTheory can be contested on a numberof grounds. It is certainly not the casethat critical theorists believed ‘technical’civilization per se would achieve‘utopia’. Furthermore, the influence Vander Wee ascribes to their critique ishighly questionable – was this critiquereally one of the deep ‘causes’ of thereturn to orthodox monetarism? Van derWee is certainly right to point out thatcritical theorists had strong reservationsabout the welfare state. However, hefails to note that their criticism is dialec-tically inflected. This is especially true ofAdorno’s work. In ‘Late Capitalism orIndustrial Society’, for example, Adornowrote: ‘In the highly industrialized partsof the world it has been possible – atleast, Keynes notwithstanding, as longas new economic disasters do not occur– to prevent the most blatant forms ofpoverty.’ Yet Adorno also added that thehighly bureaucratized Keynesian wel-fare state had cast a ‘spell’ over its citi-zens – a spell that ‘is strengthened bygreater social integration’.52 Givendevelopments in Nazi Germany and theSoviet Union, Adorno was understand-ably critical of the tendency towards

[28]

state control over the economy. Suchcontrol ‘necessarily reinforces the totali-tarian tendencies of the social order,and is a political equivalent for andadaptation to the total penetration of themarket economy’.53 Moreover, as thiscontrol grows, individuals becomeincreasingly dependent on state institu-tions for the satisfaction of their needs –especially when they require protectionagainst uncertain or crisis-ridden eco-nomic tendencies. Writing about NaziGermany, Neumann had alreadyexplained that what accounted for thegeneral acquiescence of individuals topolitical domination were pre-existingeconomic and political factors: ‘NationalSocialism did not create the mass-men.… The transformation of men intomass-men is the outcome of modernindustrial capitalism and of massdemocracy.’ Monopoly capital and massdemocracy had ‘imprisoned man in anetwork of semi-authoritarian organiza-tions controlling his life from birth todeath’, and transforming ‘culture intopropaganda and saleable commodi-ties’.54

Similar economic and political condi-tions also explained acquiescence tothe welfare state in other Western coun-tries. If citizens view themselves as pas-sive clients of the welfare state whichoften robs them of their autonomy andhuman dignity, Adorno thought thisreaction was ‘marked to the last detailby the conditions under which theylive’.55 For Adorno, pre-existing econom-ic conditions (in particular, the growingmonopolization and centralization ofcapital, and the extension of theexchange principle to areas of life that

had formerly been immune or resistantto it) were the primary factors shapingindividual reactions in non-totalitarianWestern countries. In addition, thebureaucratic organization of democraticstates, which had long preceded thecreation of the welfare state, also had arole to play in fostering attitudes andresponses to political domination anddependence on the state. While a trulyfree society would not be able to dis-pense with political and economicadministration, in mass societies‘administrations have tended under con-straint towards a greater self-sufficiencyand independence from their adminis-tered subjects, reducing the latter toabstractly normed behavior’.56

Once again, it was largely the potentialthreat of totalitarianism that motivatedAdorno’s critique of the welfare state. Inthe Soviet Union, ‘the desire for morerapid economic growth … brought abouta dictatorial and austere administra-tion’.57 And, of course, despite the eco-nomic ‘successes’ of Hitler’s regime, itscontrol over the economy had beenaccompanied by growing physical andpsychological control over its citizens.Serving as a largely unexamined end-in-itself, without reference to the needsand interests of the population at large,the goal of economic growth for its ownsake had been reached with equallyirrational means: totalitarian dictator-ship. In less totalitarian societies, thetendency towards political dominationalso pointed ‘in the direction of objectiveirrationality’.58 The all-too-obviousdefects in the market economy haveserved to legitimate increasing statecontrol not only over the economy but

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also, by extension, over citizens. Suchcontrol is unflinchingly reinforced by theculture industry: ‘The methods of cen-tralized control with which the massesare nevertheless kept in line, require adegree of concentration and centraliza-tion which possesses not only an eco-nomic, but also a technological aspect,for instance – as the mass media exem-plify – the technical possibility of control-ling and coordinating [gleichschalten]the beliefs and attitudes of countlesspeople from some central location –something which requires nothing moreobtrusive than the selection and presen-tation of news and news commentary.’59

Although he continued to support theMarxist view that the economy is the pri-mary ‘motor’ driving historical develop-ments, Adorno could nonetheless notignore the tendencies towards politicaldomination in non-totalitarian countries.His brief and often indirect criticisms ofstate control over individuals often serveto supplement his criticisms of the reify-ing effects of capitalism. Conceding in‘Observations on the Theory of Classes’that the living standards of most workershad improved under late capitalism,Adorno also acknowledged that the‘bloody dehumanization’ of earlier formsof economic oppression and exploitationhad ‘faded’. But if it is true that, with theend of such dehumanization, the ‘figureof the worker who comes home drunk atnight and beats up his family hasbecome extremely rare’, it is now alsothe case that ‘his wife has more to fearfrom the social worker who counsels herthan she does from him’.60 The adminis-trative apparatus of the welfare statecontributes to less overt – and for thatreason, all the more powerful – forms of

dehumanization that take over whereeconomic exploitation leaves off.

The latest form of dehumanization ismanifested in economic and politicalpowerlessness. Arguing that povertyhad been alleviated in the West ‘so thatthe system would not be torn apart’,Adorno nonetheless insisted that thetheory of impoverishment had actuallybeen confirmed by such powerlessness:the proletariat and the bourgeoisie werenow almost completely dominated bythe ‘system’.61 Individuals in the newmass class had become ‘simple objectsof administration in monopolies andtheir states’.62 In part a consequence ofthose socio-economic conditions thathad brought the welfare state into being,the impotence of individuals with regardto the system gives them little choice butto conform with prevailing standards,stereotypes and modes of behaviour,and to comply with the dictates of that‘expert opinion’ to which political admin-istrations themselves defer. In ‘Cultureand Administration’, Adorno wrote that,rather than ‘making conscious deci-sions’, individuals tend to ‘subjugate’themselves ‘to whatever has been pre-ordained’. Spontaneity also declines‘because total planning takes prece-dence over the individual impulse, pre-determining this impulse in turn, reduc-ing it to the level of illusion, and nolonger tolerating that play of forceswhich was expected to give rise to a freetotality’.63 In another essay, ‘Individuumund Organisation’, Adorno targetedbureaucratic organization in general (beit in the welfare state or industry). As itinvades private life either directly or indi-rectly, such organization ‘radically

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threatens people because it always tol-erates less freedom, immediacy andspontaneity and tends to reduce thosewho are essential components in socie-ty to simple atoms’.64 Adorno often usedthe phrase ‘cogs in the wheel’ todescribe individuals in the totally admin-istered world.

The question of civil society

Despite these remarks about the dam-aging effects of the welfare state’sadministrative apparatus, Adorno’s cri-tique of the welfare state is extremelysketchy; it also involves generalizationsthat cannot always be substantiated andthat sometimes limit the force ofAdorno’s arguments. It is to be hopedthat the newer left-wing critiques of thewelfare state will be able both to learnsomething from Adorno’s analysis andto surpass it. Like Pollock, Adorno alsounderestimated the degree to whichcapitalist economic systems had alwaysrelied on the state: through laws whichcreated ‘corporate, collective institutionsof capital investment and mobilization’,as well as through ‘the legal forms offinancial institutions and instruments, ofmarket mechanisms such as stock andcommodity exchanges, of laws andcourt decisions, limiting unionization byworkers, and of police and militaryforces to defend the property of thewealthy and the emergent corpora-tions’.65 Moreover, notwithstanding hisimportant analysis of the new massclass in Western states, Adorno failed toidentify emerging areas of conflict whichare not entirely class-bound (eventhough such conflicts are often far morebound to class than their protagonists

are prepared to admit).

Such areas of conflict are said to arisewithin ‘civil society’. Apart from his briefreference to Hegel’s notion in ‘LateCapitalism or Industrial Society?’,Adorno did not give critical considera-tion to the non-market and non-stateorganizations and associations that alsocomprise civil society. Although civilsociety ‘is always on the verge of extinc-tion’ under totalitarian dictatorships, ithas not been extinguished completely inWestern states. As John Keane writes,‘The persistence of (ailing) representa-tive democratic mechanisms, the con-crete possibilities of legally establishingindependent associations and move-ments, and the ongoing tensionsbetween capitalist and state bureaucra-cies – among other factors – ensure thatthese systems do not ‘converge’ withtheir Soviet-type counterparts.’66

However, even though he acknowl-edged that Western states had not suc-cumbed completely to totalitarian ten-dencies, Adorno was very scepticalabout the potential for radical resistanceto prevailing economic and political con-ditions (and it is doubtful that Adornowould have considered the demands ofnew social movements to be ‘radical’).He seemed to overlook the democraticpotential that some contemporary writ-ers claim to find in the civil societies ofthe West. In fact, the culture industryoften confirmed Adorno’s worst fears:social integration was being fostered atan alarming rate, compromising the pos-sibility of resistance to the totalizing ten-dencies of the administered world.

Once again, for Adorno, it was the dom-[31]

inance of the exchange principle – andnot of the political system – that waslargely responsible for undermining thepotential for resistance in the West. Inarguing against Adorno’s views, then, itis not sufficient to point to the existenceof formally democratic political institu-tions, or to the possibilities of legallyinstituting non-market and non-stateorganizations and associations. SinceAdorno believed that individuals in theWest had fallen under the spell of theexchange principle, what needs to beshown is either that Adorno was simplywrong about the primacy of economicfactors and their effects on individuals,or that the economically engendered‘spell’ is much more limited in its effectsthan Adorno claimed. While Adornoconcurs with Keane that political sys-tems in the West are not entirely totali-tarian in character, Keane’s view of thewelfare state as ‘undermining the com-modity form’, thereby weakening its ‘gripon civil society’,67 is questionable when itis recognized that the lion’s share of thelives of citizens in the West is exhaustedin activities of production and consump-tion which serve the economic systemeither directly or indirectly. Keane alsofails to recognize that the welfare stateitself primarily serves economic func-tions that are largely consonant with theinterests of the owners of the means ofproduction. And, unlike JürgenHabermas, who now generally rejectsAdorno’s views about the primacy of theeconomy, Keane does not take intoaccount the fact that the equality of citi-zens formally guaranteed by the welfarestate has been achieved ‘only at theprice of autonomy’.68

Haunted by the memory of NaziGermany, and wary of the totalitariantendencies visible in other countries inthe West, Adorno was understandablyless convinced than many contempo-rary writers that Western states wouldcontinue to leave spaces open for dis-sent and radically transformative action.Moreover, the tendencies towards politi-cal domination that Adorno observedmight well impede (or, at the very least,arrest) the development of both formaldemocracy and more participatoryforms of government concerned withsatisfying the needs and interests of allindividuals. In his private remarks toHorkheimer about Pollock’s state capi-talism thesis, Adorno wrote that, in con-trast to Kafka, who ‘represented thebureaucratic hierarchy as hell’, Pollockhimself had succeeded in transforminghell ‘into a bureaucratic hierarchy’.69

Although Adorno’s scattered criticismsof the welfare state occasionally appearto corroborate a more nuanced versionof Pollock’s hell-become-hierarchy the-sis – inasmuch as tendencies towardspolitical domination can be found in non-totalitarian states – far more important inAdorno’s work were the underlying eco-nomic conditions responsible for thecreation of the welfare state. ForAdorno, the Charybdis of welfare stateadministration and control was unques-tionably overshadowed by the Scylla ofreification and ‘massification’ under latecapitalism. To circumvent the politicalwhirlpool, one must first bypass the eco-nomic monster.

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Notes

All translations from texts for which theGerman edition is cited are by the author.

1. Friedrich Pollock, ‘State Capitalism: ItsPossibilities and Limitations’, Studies inPhilosophy and Social Research, vol. IX,no. 2, 1941, p. 207.2. Ibid., p. 200.3. Ibid., p. 223.4.Franz Neumann, Behemoth: TheStructure and Practice of NationalSocialism, 1933–1944, Octagon Books,New York, 1963, p. 222.5. Ibid., p. 260.6. Ibid., p. 261.7. See ibid., p. 293.8. See ibid., p. 354.9. Helmut Dubiel, Theory and Politics:Studies in the Development of CriticalTheory, trans. Benjamin Gregg, MITPress, Cambridge MA and London, 1985,p. 81.10. David Held, Introduction to CriticalTheory: Horkheimer to Habermas,University of California Press, Berkeleyand Los Angeles, 1980, p. 63. 11. Ibid., p. 64.12. William E. Scheuerman, Between theNorm and the Exception: The FrankfurtSchool and the Rule of Law, MIT Press,Cambridge MA and London, 1994, p.124.13. Douglas Kellner, Critical Theory,Marxism and Modernity, The JohnsHopkins University Press, Baltimore MD,1989, pp. 62–3.14. Ibid., p. 7815. Theodor W. Adorno and MaxHorkheimer, Dialectic of Enlightenment,trans. John Cumming, Continuum, NewYork, 1972, p. xiv. 16. Ibid., p. 37.

17. Ibid., p. 38.18. Ibid., p. 55.19. Ibid., p. 54.20. Ibid., p. 150.21. Ibid., p. 228.22. Theodor W. Adorno, ‘Reflexionen zurKlassentheorie’, in SoziologischeSchriften I, Suhrkamp Verlag, Frankfurtam Main, 1972, p. 385. 23. Ibid., p. 380.24. Ibid.25. Theodor W. Adorno, ‘Society’, trans.Fredric Jameson, Salmagundi, vol. 3,nos. 10–11, 1969–70, p. 148.26. Neumann, Behemoth, p. 365.27.Adorno, ‘Reflexionen zurKlassentheorie’, p. 377.28. Ibid., p. 380.29. Adorno, ‘Society’, p. 149 (translationaltered).30. Ibid., p. 150.31. Theodor W. Adorno, ‘Late Capitalismor Industrial Society?’, in V. Meja, D.Misgeld and N. Stehr, eds, ModernGerman Sociology, Columbia UniversityPress, New York, 1987, p. 232. 32. Ibid., p. 242.33. Ibid., p. 236.34. Ibid., p. 237.35. Ibid.36.Theodor W. Adorno, ‘Diskussionsbeitragzu “Spätkapitalismus oderIndustriegesellschaft?”’, in SoziologischeSchriften I, p. 583. 37. Adorno, ‘Late Capitalism’, p. 244(translation altered).38. Ibid., p. 243.39. Ibid., p. 244 (translation altered).When Adorno speaks of the state asintervening in the economy ‘from the out-side’, he adds that such intervention isalso ‘a part of society’s immanent dialec-tics’. By way of explaining the apparentparadox, Adorno refers to Marx, for

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whom the revolution of relations of pro-duction was at one and the same time‘compelled by the course of history’ and‘effective only through an action qualita-tively differentiated from the unity of thesystem’ (ibid., p. 244; translation altered).40. G.W.F. Hegel, Philosophy of Right,trans. T.M. Knox, Oxford UniversityPress, Oxford, 1976, p. 152.41. Adorno, ‘Late Capitalism’, p. 244(translation altered).42. Ibid., pp. 244–5 (translation altered).43. Ibid., p. 245.44. ‘Diskussionsbeitrag’, p. 584.45. Christopher Lowe, in an unpublishedresponse to David Belkin’s ‘The Left andLimited Government’, Socialist Forum,June 1996.46. Herman Van der Wee, Prosperity andUpheaval: The World Economy,1945–1980, trans. Robin Hogg and MaxR. Hall, University of California Press,Berkeley and Los Angeles, 1986, p. 283.47. Ibid., p. 35.48. Ibid. p. 287. 49. Ibid., p. 315.50. Ibid., p. 320.51. Ibid., p. 334.52. Adorno, ‘Late Capitalism’, p. 239.53. Adorno, ‘Society’, p. 151.54. Neumann, Behemoth, p. 367.55. Theodor W. Adorno, ‘Individuum undOrganisation’, in Soziologische SchriftenI, pp. 451–2. 56. Adorno, ‘Society’, p. 151.57 Adorno, ‘Late Capitalism’, p. 243.58. Ibid., p. 237.59. Ibid., p. 243.60.Adorno, ‘Reflexionen zurKlassentheorie’, p. 389.61. Ibid., p. 385.62. Ibid., p. 386.63. Theodor W. Adorno, ‘Culture andAdministration’, trans. Wes Blomster,

Telos 37, 1978, p. 105.64.Adorno, ‘Individuum undOrganisation’, pp. 443–4.65. Lowe, in his unpublished response toBelkin’s ‘The Left and LimitedGovernment’.66. John Keane, ‘Introduction’, in CivilSociety and the State: New EuropeanPerspectives, ed. John Keane, Verso,London and New York, London and NewYork, 1988, p. 5.67. Ibid., p. 7.68. Jürgen Habermas, Between Factsand Norms: Contributions to a DiscourseTheory of Law and Democracy, trans.William Rehg, MIT Press, CambridgeMA, 1996, p. 418.69. Rolf Wiggershaus, The FrankfurtSchool: Its History, Theories and PoliticalSignificance, trans. Michael Robertson,MIT Press, Cambridge MA, 1994, p. 282.

This article first appeared in RadicalPhilosophy 89, May/June 1998, and isreprinted here with permission.

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demand that the rose should smell likethe violet, but must the greatest riches ofall, the spirit, exist in only one variety? Iam humorous, but the law bids me writeseriously. I am audacious, but the lawcommands that my style be modest.Grey, all grey, is the sole, the rightfulcolor of freedom. Every drop of dew onwhich the sun shines glistens with aninexhaustible play of colours, but the spir-itual sun, however many the persons andwhatever the objects in which it is refract-ed, must produce only the official color!"

So wrote Marx in early 1842, five yearsbefore the writing of the CommunistManifesto. I cite his words by way ofunderlining, or if necessary -- arguing,that those who founded our movementone and a half centuries ago had incorpo-rated in their world outlook a certain atti-tude toward culture, artistic expressionand intellectual freedom. That attitude, Iam convinced, remains an objectively-significant and irreplaceable componentof the Marxist view of things. Our effortshere today are aimed principally atattempting to elaborate, at least in an ini-tial way, what might make up the aesthet-ic component, if one can call it that, ofsocialist consciousness.

If the defence of artistic and intellectualfreedom is so indispensable to Marxism,why, one might reasonably ask, is theholding of our discussion today such anunusual, not to say, unprecedentedevent? The answer to this has manysides, too many to go into in any depth inthis forum. But I think the question doesrequire some response, particularly asaddressing it might shed light on theproblems under discussion today.

There are, most obviously, the objective

implications of the relationship of politicsto art in the struggle for socialism. LeonTrotsky began his classic Literature andRevolution, written in 1922 and 1923, byremarking that the place of art in theSoviet Union could be determined by thefollowing general argument: if theRussian workers had not defeated thecounterrevolutionary armies in a bittercivil war, the Soviet state would no longerhave existed and Marxists in Russiawould not have been thinking about eco-nomic problems, much less intellectualand cultural ones. Distinctly non-artisticmeans must be employed in bringing intobeing a society where art will flourish.

Combined with that is the reality of classoppression under capitalism. Trotskywarned in Literature and Revolutionagainst any uncritical identification of thehistorical destinies of the bourgeoisie andthe proletariat. The capitalist class seizedpolitical power centuries after it hadbegun the work of developing its own cul-ture. It assumed control of society as analready wealthy and educated socialgrouping. Things are very different for theworking class.

A great portion of the energy of socialist-minded workers which remains at theirdisposal "after meeting the elementarydemands of life" necessarily goes into thestudy of politics and history and the effortto educate and organize the entire classon the basis of Marxist principles. Theenormity and urgency of the tasks makethis inevitable. This holds true, to a largeextent, even for the members of our ownparty.

In other words, while the historic rise ofthe bourgeoisie took place with a relativeevenness in all spheres of social life --

I would like to begin by noting that thefirst work Karl Marx produced as a revolu-tionary journalist, at the age of 23, was acomment on a set of instructions issuedby the Prussian government censor.

The instructions had contained the obser-vation that "the censorship should notprevent serious and modest investigationof truth." In his derisive response Marxasked rhetorically, "Is it not the first dutyof the seeker after truth to aim directly atthe truth, without looking to the right orleft? Will I not forget the essence of thematter, if I am obliged not to forget to stateit in the prescribed form?"

He continued: "Further, truth is general, itdoes not belong to me alone, it belongsto all, it owns me, I do not own it. Myproperty is the form, which is my spiritualindividuality. Le style c'est l'homme.[Style is the man] Yes, indeed! The lawpermits me to write, only I must write in astyle that is not mine! I may show myspiritual countenance, but I must first setit in the prescribed folds! What man ofhonour will not blush at this presumption... ?

"You admire the delightful variety, theinexhaustible riches of nature. You do not

The Attitude of Classical MarxismToward Art

by David Walsh

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ing...

"Politically, as far as I can understand,they seldom discussed things. But cer-tainly Mohr judged Heine very tenderly,and he loved not only the man's work, butalso the man himself."

Or to take the case of Trotsky himself, allone has to do is read the chapter of hisautobiography entitled "Books and EarlyConflicts," in which he describes how as achild he devoured works by Pushkin,Nekrasov, Dickens and Tolstoy; the pow-erful impression produced by his first tripto the theater; and the enormous impactof the visits paid to his home by a familyfriend who was known in the south ofRussia as an authority on Shakespeare.

From the middle of the 19th century on,what we call classical Marxism as repre-sented by its greatest figures -- Marx,Engels, Lenin, Trotsky, Rosa Luxemburg,Franz Mehring, Georgi Plekhanov,Lafargue, Antonio Labriola, and of coursecountless other figures of lesser stature -- did more than simply provide a politicalprogram; that would be the narrowestview.

Marxism represented a current ofimmense intellectual breadth and depth.It contained within itself quite consciouslythe greatest achievements of bourgeoisphilosophy, political economy, historiogra-phy and, I would maintain, at least implic-itly artistic production. Marxism providedthe only rational and coherent explanationof the contradictions and growing crisis ofbourgeois society and offered the onlyprogressive way out of that crisis. Thereverberations set off by the idea ofsocialism, with its vision of a world free ofexploitation and misery, whether or not

they were met with sympathy, were felt inevery sphere of intellectual life.

And, conversely, every current and indi-vidual that offered insight into the struc-ture of the physical, social or mental uni-verses had its impact, in some form orother, on Marxism. Whether it was thework of physicists, anthropologists or psy-choanalysts. One does not want to glossover the immense contradictions of thesocialist movement between 1890 and1914, but in the most general sensethere is no question that during thoseyears the revolutionary self-conscious-ness of the masses experienced animmense growth, a process which foundits highest expression in the OctoberRevolution of 1917.

If one begins to examine, even superfi-cially, the history of the period, onecomes up with all sorts of material. Onecould refer to the meeting in 1890 thatfounded the Freie Volksbühne, a majortheater, in Germany, which, in the wordsof one historian, "united the leaders ofthe Berlin avant-garde with the leaders ofSocial-Democracy in a common endeav-or that brought a series of meetingswhere writers and industrial workersjoined in literary discussions."

Or consider, as another example, the artsdepartment of the Belgian Workers Party.Its programs in 1891-92, organized forworkers, included the study of modernRussian literature, Ibsen, Wagner, folkmusic, Shakespeare, Flemish painting,William Morris and the poetry of PaulVerlaine.

In Germany, of course, the Social-Democratic party organized workers'associations around a variety of ques-

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economically, philosophically, culturally --the process of self-determination of theworking class, in Trotsky's words, "aclass unfortunate economically, assumesan intensely one-sided, revolutionary andpolitical character," and reaches its high-est expression in the revolutionary social-ist party. We struggle against this one-sid-edness, but we understand its objectiveroots. There would be no need for thesocial revolution if humanity could devel-op itself in an all-rounded fashion undercapitalism. The working class must takepower precisely because it is deprived ofculture in the broadest sense of the word.

These are general considerations towhich I think no one should shut his orher eyes, or needs to, but, in my view, it isperhaps more directly relevant to refer tocertain historical problems in attemptingto explain both why we have found it nec-essary and why we are now able todevote a special session of this school tocultural problems.

An irony that must be taken into accountin such a discussion is that it would havebeen taken for granted, it seems to me,by all the great exponents of Marxism inthe first three-quarters of a century or sofollowing the publication of theCommunist Manifesto in 1847, that thestruggle for socialism and the struggle todefend freedom of artistic creation wereessentially inseparable.

After all, one need only consider againthe character of the individual whosename is identified with the founding of sci-entific socialism, Marx himself. Here wasa man, in addition to all his other extraor-dinary attributes, of immense culture. Inhis reminiscences Paul Lafargue, theFrench socialist leader and Marx's son-in-

law, recalled, "He [Marx] knew Heine andGoethe by heart and often quoted themin his conversations; he was an assidu-ous reader of poets in all European lan-guages. Every year he read Aeschylus inthe Greek original. He considered himand Shakespeare as the greatest dra-matic geniuses humanity ever gave birthto. His respect for Shakespeare wasboundless: he made a detailed study ofhis works and knew even the least impor-tant of his characters He rankedCervantes and Balzac above all othernovelists He had an incomparably fertileimagination: his first literary works werepoems. Mrs. Marx carefully preserved thepoetry her husband wrote in his youth butnever showed it to anybody. His familyhad dreamt of his being a man of lettersor a professor and thought he wasdebasing himself by engaging in socialistagitation and political economy, whichwas then disdained in Germany."

At the request of Karl Kautsky in 1895Eleanor Marx wrote a comment on thefriendship of Heine and Marx. It read inpart: "I remember both my parents ...speaking much of Heine, whom (in theearly forties) they saw constantly and inti-mately. It is no exaggeration to say thatMohr [Marx's nickname] not only admiredHeine as a poet, but had a sincere affec-tion for him. He would even make allsorts of excuses for Heine's politicalvagaries. Poets, Mohr explained, werequeer kittle-cattle, not to be judged by theordinary or even extra-ordinary standardsof conduct...

"Heine used, at one time, to run up con-stantly to their rooms, to read them his'verses' and ask their opinion. Again andagain, Mohr would go over some 'smallthing' of eight lines, discussing, analyz-

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tainly viewed itself -- and was viewed bythose artists and intellectuals who sym-pathized with its general aims -- as an allyand defender of artistic creation and as adetermined champion of intellectual free-dom in general.

Is that the widespread popular perceptiontoday of Marxism? One would truly haveto fool oneself to believe so. If "Marxism"at the present moment is not identifiedopenly with the stamping out of criticalthought and artistry by brutal and stupidbureaucrats, with banishment to theGulag being the punishment for the inde-pendent-minded, it is most likely to beidentified with the idiocies of postmod-ernism, identity politics and the entirepanoply of anti-artistic prescriptions putforth by the petty bourgeois Left.

In regard to the identification of Marxismand the totalitarian suppression of ideas,the right-wing ideologue can be countedupon to have his say. "You see," he willsay, "the claim by socialists to representfreedom proved to be a ploy and adeception. These were power-mad indi-viduals who would promise anything togain their objective. Once on top theyshowed their true colors."

This would be a compelling argument if itwere not entirely contradicted by histori-cal fact. The October Revolution providedan enormous impulse to artistic creation,particularly in the fields of the visual arts,poetry and cinema. The mere names --Malevich, Mayakovsky, Tatlin, Eisenstein,Pudovkin, Vertov, Shostakovich,Rodchenko, Popova, Stepanova, ElLissitsky, Meyerhold, Babel, Mandelstamand many others -- evoke an artistic uni-verse. The cultural impulse provided bythe revolution was grudgingly acknowl-

edged even by its more honest politicalopponents. Leading figures of theBolshevik Party -- Lenin, Trotsky andLunacharsky in particular -- encouragedartistic work and countered the attemptsto impose supposedly "proletarian" andartificially "revolutionary" criteria onSoviet artists. When the workers' state,wrote Trotsky in The Revolution Betrayed,"had a seething mass-basis and a per-spective of world revolution, it had nofear of experiments, searchings, thestruggle of schools, for it understood thatonly in this way could a new culturalepoch be prepared. The popular masseswere still quivering in every fiber, andwere thinking aloud for the first time in athousand years. All the best youthfulforces of art were touched to the quick."

It is outside the scope of this discussion toexamine the character, growth and signif-icance of Stalinism, but clearly its sup-pression -- and eventual destruction -- ofSoviet cultural life carried out from themid-1920s onward was one of the greatintellectual crimes of the century. Theascendancy of the bureaucracy createdwhat Trotsky called "a kind of concentra-tion camp of artistic literature." The bestartists committed suicide, became silentor faced extermination.

Not only did the bureaucracy murder, cor-rupt or demoralize entire generations ofartists in the USSR and abroad, it bor-rowed or invented theories to justify itstyranny over art: "proletarian culture" and"socialist realism" in Stalin's day. The cul-tural impact of Stalinism did not end withthe tyrant's death in 1953, nor was it feltdestructively only in the USSR, EasternEurope and China. One can trace the ori-gins of various schools of "people's art"to its baleful influence. Of course

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tions -- including culture -- numbering inthe thousands. One work I looked intogave the example of a small German cityof between ten and twenty thousand peo-ple which had 100 workers' associations,from cycling clubs to groups devoted topoetry and theater. Socialists consideredquestions of culture and art to be of cen-tral importance in raising the workingclass to the level of its historic responsibil-ities.

In France the anarchist journal La Révoltepublished literary supplements includingthe works of Tolstoy, Flaubert, DeMaupassant, the Goncourt brothers,Anatole France and Zola. When the pub-lication's subscription list was seized in1894 it included a who's who of some ofthe most refined and "decadent" aes-thetes, including Stephane Mallarmé, aswell as the names of the painters PaulSignac and Camille Pissarro and AnatoleFrance himself -- a cross-section ofFrench intellectual life.

One useful work, The Artist and SocialReform, a study of the socio-cultural situ-ation in France and Belgium in the latterpart of the 19th century, notes: "WhenGustave Kahn [well known literary figureand future Dreyfusard] wrote in 1886 ofthe stagnant state of contemporaryFrench society in which the triumphantbourgeoisie blocked all that was new inart and ideas, he was echoing a far oldercomplaint, the complaint that for him, asfor others, combined both artistic andsocial motives. And now the note of socialconcern was to become ever moreimportant in the attack on the bourgeoisie.Not only did the artist feel himself a victimof society, as he had for some time, butbegan to identify himself with the workingclass, as both victims of the same sort of

injustice."

Even in semi-legal conditions in TsaristRussia during this period the Marxistsstruck up a relationship with theDecadents, "a young and persecuted [lit-erary] tendency" (Trotsky) and came totheir defense.

It would be foolish to suggest that therelations between the artists and thesocialists, in even the best of thesecases, were simple, harmonious or with-out contradiction. How would that havebeen possible? Bohemianism, individual-ism and egotism -- associated with a def-inite social existence -- are not preciselyunknown qualities within artistic circles.Nor is philistinism, for that matter,unknown to the Marxist movement. Andaside from inevitable class and politicalfriction, there is the matter of the signifi-cant, although not absolute, differencebetween scientific and artistic cognition.

I discussed this a few years ago in rela-tion to the Russian avant-garde artists:"The very process by which the artistcognizes the world, through images; theclose link of his or her realm to senseperception, immediate impressions andemotions; and the greater role of intuitionand the unconscious in artistic work --this almost guarantees that the artist 'lagsbehind' the politics of the day." Whetherartistic consciousness lags behind, or attimes leaps ahead, it is in any event rarelysynchronized with political-revolutionaryconsciousness.

Taking all that into account, I think itremains, in a general sense, a historical-ly demonstrable proposition that in theperiod leading up to the RussianRevolution the socialist movement cer-

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ating the significance of Oscar Wilde's lifeand work.

We replied to the letter in the newspaper,and he has recently responded in turnwith another letter which I think brings thedifferences in our outlooks into evensharper focus. I would like to return tothese issues today, because I think theviews expressed by Mr. Evans are typicalof an entire social milieu. He naturallyhas the right to his opinions, but so do we.And we do not intend to be bashful indefending our conceptions and demar-cating them from what we believe to befalse and retrograde ideas.

I am assuming that most of you here haveread the original piece on Wilde and theexchange of letters that appeared inNovember, but it might be useful,nonetheless, if I briefly sum up theissues, as I see them.

The article on Wilde itself had a prehisto-ry. It was written under the influence, soto speak, of the work that had gone intothe piece we published on André Bretonand Surrealism earlier in the summer. Icontinue to believe that Breton is a cru-cial figure. I am convinced that his princi-pled stand on political questions -- hisrejection of Stalinism and his support forTrotsky and the Fourth International --was connected to his emphasis on therole of the subjective, of consciousness,in art and history. I know of few humanbeings in history who more truly and sin-cerely believed that the workings of theabsolutely unfettered creative imagina-tion were critical to the success of the rev-olution.

When I approached Wilde I was struck bythe fact that certain similar themes

emerged in his work. Of course one hasto take him with a large grain of salt.Wilde is or can be a terrible snob; heoften rubs one entirely the wrong way;most of his poetry is impossibly stilted;the majority of his plays never rise abovethe level of drawing room comedy of afairly innocuous sort. And yet And yet,one cannot help but feel that he is some-times on to something extremely pro-found. Particularly in The Soul of ManUnder Socialism, in The Critic as Artist, inThe Picture of Dorian Gray, in Salomé, inDe Profundis, perhaps in The Importanceof Being Earnest as well.

When Wilde provocatively asserted thatart did not reflect nature and life, but thatnature and life in fact imitated art, i.e.,that they bore the imprint of humanaction, he demonstrated a grasp of thedialectic which was very unusual for thatepoch. That comment, again of courseread critically, always brings to my mindthe passage on Feuerbach's materialismin the German Ideology in which Marxand Engels point out that "nature, thenature that preceded human history, isnot by any means the nature in whichFeuerbach lives." In other words, whetherfaced with products of thought, society oreven nature, human beings are general-ly confronting the results of their ownactivity or the activity of previous genera-tions.

Again, what struck me in Wilde was hisemphasis on human subjective activityand his categorical refusal to view art as avehicle of passive reflection; that seemsan unusual stance in a period where ten-dencies toward passive materialism weremanifested even within the socialism ofthe Second International. And I found itvery moving and inspiring that here was a

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Stalinism was not the only influence atwork; various homegrown populist andbourgeois-nationalist conceptions alsoplayed a role, but it has certainly func-tioned as a critical ideological and orga-nizational cement.

In the 75 years since Trotsky wroteLiterature and Revolution, in other words,various conceptions essentially hostile toart and intellectual creation, have beenpassed off as "Marxist" and have come tobe so identified in the minds of large num-bers of people. We insist, and this is per-haps the significance of the organizationof this discussion here today, that theperiod in which it was possible to perpe-trate this fraud has come to an end.

For a number of years now in theInternational Committee we have beenattempting to revive a genuinely Marxistapproach to art. This has been one fea-ture of what I think we have justlyreferred to as a renaissance in Marxisttheory which has come about since thedecisive break with opportunism, in theform of the British Workers RevolutionaryParty, in the mid-1980s. It feels verymuch as if the Trotskyist movement --Marxism in its modern form -- has freeditself from a host of alien influences, has,so to speak, truly found itself again.

This is not of course simply due to thebreak with a group of opportunists, assignificant as that was. Very powerful his-torical processes are at work. This renais-sance is bound up with a change in therelationship between Marxism and oppor-tunism, between the working class andbureaucracy, a relationship that wasextremely unfavorable to the revolution-ary socialist movement for an entire his-torical period. It is my belief that the dom-

ination of the working class by theStalinist and reformist bureaucracies hada direct bearing on the prevalence ofthose notions of art that masqueraded asMarxist, and were taken for good coin orat least went unchallenged even by manysincere and honest socialists for half acentury.

I believe that if we are now able to liberateourselves from the influence of thesefalse and harmful conceptions, this hasprofound objective significance. It under-lines our own evolution, as the tendencythat stands unalterably opposed to thebureaucratic apparatuses, and points tothe emergence of the working class onceagain as a class acting in its own inde-pendent historical interests. I will go intomore detail about this aspect of the mat-ter later in my presentation.

Certain disagreements

As I say, over the last number of yearswe have made a conscious effort to raisethe level of our writing about artistic mat-ters and to treat problems of contempo-rary culture, as well as historical ques-tions, in the light of the Marxist heritageto which I have briefly referred. Much,much work remains to be done, but Ithink the road at least has been clearedof a certain amount of debris.

Our emphasis on the need to grasp theobjective significance of artistic produc-tion and to take seriously its laws ofdevelopment has encountered opposi-tion recently, as the majority of you prob-ably know, from a reader of WorkersNews here in Australia. Mr. Brad Evanswrote to the paper at the end of August toexpress his disagreement with an articlethat appeared last summer briefly evalu-

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"In page five of your response to me, youmention: 'Our view is that when art istruest to its own, distinct purposes it cutsa path closest to that of the social revolu-tion'. This comment presents an interest-ing concept. If the issue is not to struggleagainst class and oppression in a collec-tive and empowered interest, then howwill the proletariat be able to gain theirfreedom? What is your motive in support-ing the individual tastes of aesthetic art?If art does not present realist perspectiveconcerning the class struggle, how will amajority of people understand their objec-tive? At present, the majority of peopledon't have an understanding of classthrough such things as education fromthe State. Those people are too busyworking to survive, let alone have the timeto learn the concept of class, potentiallyit's art as a re-educational tool throughvarious media which can allow for that."

And later in his letter he writes: "On 'artis-tic form', you have stated that this has 'anindependent and objectively significantpower, an ability to enrich spiritual experi-ence and refine feeling'. If Marx heardthese words of 'spiritual experience' he'dbe laughing in your face!

"What kind of 'spiritual experience' isgoing to change the material (politicaland economic) state of this world?Material forces can alter material states,leave the spiritual experiences for theNew Age."

I would like to address these two issues:Is the purpose of art primarily to presenta realistic picture of the modern classstruggle? And what role -- if any -- does"spiritual experience," which Mr. Evanssuggests we laugh at, play in the strugglefor socialism?

I would like to do it, however, in a some-what indirect fashion, by a considerationof Trotsky's writings in the early 1920s onproblems of art and culture, particularlyLiterature and Revolution.

The significance of Trotsky's work in the1920s

Literature and Revolution, in my view, isthe most significant contribution yetmade to a Marxist approach to art. Yet inEnglish at least the book is very difficultto obtain. I am hopeful that we will pub-lish it ourselves at some future date, per-haps in a new translation -- the presentone leaves a great deal to be desired.

It is an extraordinary work, but it has cer-tainly suffered from neglect, most notice-ably from what one might think an unex-pected quarter -- "left" writers on Marxismand art. In perusing the countless vol-umes produced by academics and self-styled Marxist critics on aesthetic prob-lems one comes upon precious few refer-ences either to Literature and Revolutionor Trotsky's other writings on culture.

Georg Lukacs as part of his pact with theStalinist devil could make no referencesto Trotsky, of course, except hostile ones.Herbert Marcuse, who did not have theexcuse of fearing for his life, ignoredTrotsky entirely in The AestheticDimension, a work supposedly devotedto making a critical analysis of Marxistviews on art. I have not run across anysignificant effort by Adorno orHorkheimer to come to terms withTrotsky's work. Fredric Jameson, theAmerican academic, in his pretentiousMarxism and Form: Twentieth-CenturyDialectical Theories of Literature, man-

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man who proclaimed in the teeth of com-placent British bourgeois public opinion,"It is through the voice of one crying in thewilderness that the ways of the godsmust be prepared."

And it seemed to me, furthermore, thatthis sort of outlook had to be linked to hisadvocacy of "art for art's sake." His insis-tence that the artist was not the'spokesman of his time,' the docile trans-mitter of its values, was clearly bound upwith an insistence on the independenceof art from bourgeois morality, immediatepolitical reality and other similar consider-ations. For Wilde aestheticism and thenotion that art was useless represented arejection of the existing social order andits demands. One can see the obviouslimitations of his view, but I do not thinkanyone should underestimate the depthand seriousness of his rejection.

So I wrote about these things. And Mr.Evans wrote in to express his disagree-ment on several points. He asserted, asfar I could understand, that Wilde couldnot have been an advocate of art for art'ssake because such a "petty bourgeois"view was incompatible with being asocialist. He further asserted that artmust have, in his words, "ethical involve-ment or sociopolitical function."

In my reply to Mr. Evans I emphasizedthat Marxism in my view conceives of artas a sphere of human activity with its ownrelatively autonomous laws of develop-ment. It is of course a product of socialman, one of his forms of social conscious-ness, but it cannot be reduced to any oneof the other forms. "Does art," I asked,"embrace within its scope, problems andsubject matter that are distinct from thosetreated by science, politics, philosophy

and ethics? Does it make use of distinctmaterials? If not, if its role overlaps sub-stantially with, or can even be replacedby other forms of social consciousness,why does art exist?"

In another passage I wrote: "Art, it seemsto me, navigates freely between the innerand the outer worlds, between the worlddominated by the striving, in Trotsky'sphrase, for 'a harmonious and completelife' and the world of immediate reality. Inmy view art is very much bound up withthe struggle, as old as human conscious-ness, to shape the world, includinghuman relations, in accordance withbeauty and the requirements of freedom,with life as it ought to be

"It is also the case, in my opinion, thatartistic form has an independent andobjectively significant power, an ability toenrich spiritual experience and refine feel-ing..."

In his most recent letter Mr. Evans reiter-ates the points he made in his first letter.He suggests furthermore that I hold theview "that art does not have a purposeother than to please the aesthetic eye ofthe arts' ministers in various societies."He makes a number of remarks along thesame lines. I do not understand the pur-pose of these sorts of comments, whichhave no bearing on reality. I have neverexpressed interest in nor approval of"pure art," art that merely indulges in theplay of pure form. So this is a red herringand I am not going to spend my timeresponding to it.

I would like to quote two passages that Ithink are worth considering:

At one point in his letter Mr. Evans writes:

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somewhat more substantial justification.

With the subsiding of the wave of insur-rectionary struggles that followed the endof World War I, the Bolshevik regimefaced a more or less protracted period asan isolated workers' state. Lenin, beforeillness forced him into inactivity, sharplywarned of the dangers to the revolution-ary regime represented by the legacy ofRussia's economic and cultural back-wardness, including its reflection withinthe Bolshevik Party. A collaborator withLenin in the first battles against the con-servative, bureaucratic elements,Trotsky, upon Lenin's death, took up thechallenge of elaborating a Marxistresponse to the new problems con-fronting the party and the regime.

That Trotsky responded in part by turningto work on cultural problems surelyexpressed his perception that the fate ofthe Soviet Union did not hang simply onthe elaboration of the proper political pro-gram, much less on the raising of certainslogans or the development of clever tac-tics. In the first essay, published in July1923, of what was to make up the workentitled Problems of Everyday Life,Trotsky expressed quite forthrightly hisfrustration with that very approach. Ofcourse, this was before the organizationof the Left Opposition and does not speakdirectly to the question of organizingresistance to the ruling faction, but I thinkthe sentiment clearly reflects his thinkingof the time.

The piece is entitled "Not by politicsalone," and Trotsky begins by pointing tothe significance of that phrase: "This sim-ple thought should be thoroughly graspedand borne in mind by all who speak orwrite for propaganda purposes. Changed

times bring changed tunes. The prerevo-lutionary history of our party was a histo-ry of revolutionary politics. Party litera-ture, party organizations -- everythingwas ruled by politics in the direct and nar-row sense of that word ... At present theworking class is perfectly aware of thefundamental results of the revolution. It isquite unnecessary to go on repeatingover and over the story of these results.It does not any longer stir the minds ofthe workers, and is more likely even towipe out in the workers' minds the les-sons of the past ..... [O]ur chief problemshave shifted to the needs of culture andeconomic reconstruction." [My emphasis]

The Russian workers, Trotsky pointedout, had broken relatively easily with theRussian bourgeoisie, which had neverdone them any good; but he added:"History gives nothing free of cost.Having made a reduction on one point --in politics -- it makes us pay the more onanother -- culture."

Trotsky, in all the writings of this period,clearly identifies a "monstrous" (and heuses that adjective again and again) spir-itual and cultural backwardness as thechief obstacle to the laying of socialistfoundations in the Soviet Union and oneof the principle social realities contributingto the emergence of a crude, selfish andignorant bureaucratic caste.

His principal writings and remarks of themid-1920s on culture and social life --Literature and Revolution; Problems ofEveryday Life; Culture and Socialism; theparty discussion known as Class and Art;Radio, Science, Technology, andSociety; Young People, Study Politics!and numerous other works -- constitutean extraordinary body of objective knowl-

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aged to mention Trotsky's name onlyonce in passing. Equally remarkably, inhis work entitled Marxism and Literature,the late Raymond Williams made oneessentially misleading and disparagingreference to Literature and Revolution. Tothis list one might add Cliff Slaughter aswell. In his Marxism, Ideology andLiterature, published in 1980, Slaughterdid indeed devote a chapter to Literatureand Revolution, but it is of the most per-functory and ritualistic character, withouta single significant insight.

I think this collective silence and hostilityspeaks in the most general sense pre-cisely to the problem referred to earlier:the dominance of Stalinism and Stalinistconceptions to which these intellectualseither accommodated themselves or towhich in any event they could offer nocoherent and worked-out alternative.

The hostility still directed againstLiterature and Revolution today is entire-ly logical when one takes into accountthat the work was in effect one of theopening shots in the struggle of Marxistsin the Soviet Union to cultivate resistanceto the rise of the bureaucracy. It provideda perspective on art, life and societyentirely at odds with the outlook of thecomplacent, nationalist petty bourgeoislayers who made up the Stalin camp --and entirely at odds, one might add, withthat of our contemporary petty bourgeoisLeft. By taking forward the genuineMarxist tradition of literary criticismthrough its application to then current cul-tural problems Trotsky posed an alterna-tive to the corrosive social atmosphereencouraged by the ruling group.

The circumstances in which the book waswritten have some significance. In the

summer of 1922, during his vacation,Trotsky devoted himself to writing a pref-ace to a volume of pre-revolutionaryessays on literature which the Sovietstate publishers intended to issue as aspecial volume of his works. The preface,a consideration of the evolution of Sovietliterary life since 1917, grew in size andremained unfinished in 1922. The nextsummer he returned to it and completedthe work eventually entitled Literatureand Revolution.

Trotsky wrote his book, in other words, inthe course of the year which immediate-ly preceded the formation of the LeftOpposition in October 1923 and the com-mencement of the openly-declared battleagainst the bureaucratic caste in theSoviet Union. This was a period markedby ominous and increasingly tragicevents: the last days of Lenin's politicallife; the campaign of slander organizedagainst Trotsky conducted by the triumvi-rate of Stalin, Zinoviev and Kamenev; theconsolidation of Mussolini's fascistregime in Italy; counterrevolution inBulgaria, aided by the passivity of theCommunist Party; the revolutionary crisisin Germany provoked by the Frenchoccupation of the Ruhr and the ultimatefailure of political nerve by Stalin andZinoviev and the German CommunistParty leadership in the fall of 1923.

I know there are those who believeTrotsky made a political miscalculation indevoting himself to a work on art at a timeof such momentous events. I think thatthis view is somewhat shortsighted. Iadmit a personal bias. Literature andRevolution is an irreplaceable work as faras I am concerned; I cannot imagine nothaving it as a guide and a source ofknowledge. But I think I can provide a

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ing toward the Stalin leadership, withinthe Communist Party who were trans-forming Marxism into a vulgar, schematicsubstitute for serious analysis. One of theforms this schematism took, to which Imade reference earlier, was the uncriticalidentification of the bourgeois and prole-tarian revolutions. This often went handin hand with the elaboration of theoriesaccording to which it was the task of theSoviet working class to discard all pastcultural achievements and construct itsown, "proletarian" culture.

According to this anti-Marxist conception,which was not only the intellectual prop-erty of the ProletCult movement proper,but began to hold considerable sway with-in party circles, humanity's past culturalaccomplishments were incurably infectedwith alien class influences. What couldthe old intellectual representatives ofRussian capitalism and landlordism, forexample, possibly have to say to the citi-zens of the new workers' state?

This type of argument echoed the thinkingof 19th century populism far more than itdid that of classical Marxism. If one readsTolstoy's What is Art?, written in 1896 fol-lowing his 'spiritual rebirth,' one can findsimilar formulations. He denounces con-temporary art in the strongest terms, asupper class culture, which could "evokein a workingman only bewilderment andcontempt, or indignation." He leaves roomfor only two kinds of art, Christian art, and"art transmitting simplest feelings of com-mon life ... the art of a people -- universalart." As for the rest of art, it "should bedriven out, denied and despised." Thepoint, of course, is not to amalgamateTolstoy the novelist with the Stalinbureaucracy; we are speaking of certainclass and ideological currents.

Trotsky's attitude was quite different.

And Lenin's too of course. As a point ofreference, one might consider the DraftResolution Lenin wrote up in response towhat he took to be favorable commentsby Lunacharsky in regard to ProletarianCulture in October 1920. His proposedresolution read in part: "Marxism has wonits historic significance as the ideology ofthe revolutionary proletariat because, farfrom rejecting the most valuable achieve-ments of the bourgeois epoch, it has, onthe contrary, assimilated and refashionedeverything of value in more than twothousand years of the development ofhuman thought and culture."

Trotsky, in Culture and Socialism, definedculture as "everything that has been cre-ated, built, learnt, conquered by man inthe course of his entire history, in distinc-tion from what nature has given...."

He then pointed to the contradiction thatlies at the heart of human culturalachievement. He wrote, "We will thenconsider it as firmly established that cul-ture has grown out of man's struggle withnature for existence, for the improvementof his conditions of life, for the enlarge-ment of his power. But out of this samebasis classes also have grown ... Thismeans that historical culture has pos-sessed a class character ... But does thismean that we are against all the culture ofthe past?

"There exists, in fact, a profound contra-diction here. Everything that has beenconquered, created, built by man's effortsand which serves to enhance man'spower is culture. But since it is not a mat-ter of individual man but of social man ...

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edge, as well as one of the most com-pelling arguments in favor of the socialistreorganization of human relations.

It would be entirely wrong to suggest thatthere was anything fatalistic in Trotsky'sattitude toward the situation in the USSR,or that he was resigned to the victory ofthe Stalinist faction, but he clearly recog-nized that the only possible basis for thesuccess of the Marxist tendency was aprofound change in the cultural level ofthe Soviet masses and he set about work-ing to create that change. We know theMarxists were unable to prevent thegrowth of the bureaucratic cancer, butthat is not an argument against Trotsky'sefforts. His work proves today to be one ofthe most valuable weapons we possessin our struggle to create a climate con-ducive to the growth of socialist ideas.

Marxism versus "proletarian culture"

Literature and Revolution, Culture andSocialism and Class and Art form a sub-stantial and densely-argued body of work.It would be inappropriate, even if I were ina position to do so, to review all the ques-tions they take up. For our present pur-poses, which include considering theimplications of this history for our ownwork, as well as providing answers to theissues I raised before in relation to Mr.Evans' letter, it might be useful to con-centrate on the following problems: Whatis culture, including spiritual culture, froman historical and scientific standpoint?What is the value and what are the limita-tions of applying a class criterion to cul-ture and art? What are the contributionsthat art and the aesthetic experience itselfmake to the cause of human liberation?

I would like to frame this part of my pres-

entation in the following manner. If weseem to speak here with approval of the"contribution" that art makes it should notbe interpreted in a narrow, utilitariansense, nor should it be taken as an impli-cation that artists, frankly, require ourstamp of approval to carry on with theirwork. Art works have profoundly influ-enced human beings for a very long time,and they would go on doing so even if wewere to withhold our validation. The atti-tude that one of our tasks is to bestow aMarxist blessing on this or that work orartist or style has always irritated me inthe extreme, and I still see traces of it insome of the articles that appear in ourpress.

We do not begin a consideration ofMarxist aesthetics, in other words, with aquestion in our minds as to whether weshould, for example, recommendElizabethan drama or Italian painting ofthe 14th and 15th centuries to workers ornot. It is an assumption of this presenta-tion at least that we are as ardent in ourpartisanship of artistic creation andunhindered access to its products as weare of the right -- and responsibility -- ofscientists to explore the physical uni-verse and make their discoveries knownto the widest possible public. We arespeaking of objective advances made bythe human mind, which are not up fordebate. And this has implications for theway in which we treat these cultural andhistorical issues. We enter into such areview with a definite conception and pur-pose.

In everything that Trotsky wrote and saidabout art and culture in the years 1922-26 he was responding, at least in part, tothe theoretical and political challenge rep-resented by middle class layers, gravitat-

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forcefully, without a trace of bullying orbluster. He is engaged in several tasks atonce: attempting to raise the cultural levelof the Soviet workers and the party mem-bership, polemicizing against what heconsiders to be a false and narrow con-ception of culture, and engaging theartists themselves -- to the extent thatthey may be willing to participate -- in adialogue over artistic and social perspec-tives.

He spells out precisely what he thinks tobe his and the Marxist party's role:"There are domains in which the Partyleads, directly and imperatively. Thereare other domains in which it only coop-erates. There are, finally, domains inwhich it only orientates itself. The domainof art is not one in which the Party iscalled upon to command. It can and mustprotect and help it, but it can only lead itindirectly." What the Marxist method cando, he suggests, is "to help the most pro-gressive tendencies by a critical illumina-tion of the road." Literature andRevolution, in my opinion, embodies thatprocess of "critical illumination."

I would like to return to the oppositionbetween Marxist aesthetics and the vari-ous theories of "proletarian culture,"which brings us to the core of our subjecttoday and to the core of our differenceswith Mr. Evans.

What is really at issue here? Perhaps atthis point I could speak somewhat lessformally.

What is it that we value in art? Mr. Evansand others suggest that art's role shouldbe to provide a realistic perspective forthe class struggle. In the first instance,that is the proper role of the revolutionary

Marxist party, not the artist. He is bothasking too much and too little of art, in myview. Furthermore, if the purpose of art isto illuminate the reality of the modernclass struggle, what is to become of pastculture? I must admit that I am afraid toask. Everything written before 1848 or1871 or 1917, or whatever the cut-off dateis determined to be, is apparently con-signed to the scrap heap. And what aboutpainting, abstract or otherwise, or instru-mental music, or architecture, or a dozenother art forms that have no practicalvalue for the proletarian cause? To thescrap heap with them. We know perfectlywell where this kind of thinking leads, andwe reject it.

Let us return to the problem of past cul-ture. Why do people continue to readHomer or Dante or Shakespeare? In 1990the appearance of a new English transla-tion of The Iliad was considered a majorintellectual event. Scholars estimate thatHomer's work was set down some twothousand seven hundred years ago. Itrecounts certain episodes that the authorclaims to have taken place in the tenthand final year of the Trojan War, centeringon the rage of Achilles and its nearly fatalconsequences for the Greek forces.Gods intervene on the battlefield, con-spire against one another, favor heroesof one army or the other; all sorts ofimprobable events take place. Thousandsand thousands of copies of the newtranslation have been sold. Is that to beexplained merely as an affectation on thepart of the book-buying public? Or theresult of an inexplicable interest in a frag-ment of ancient Greek history or mythol-ogy? I do not believe so. I cite this exam-ple to indicate that the pragmatic, ultra-utilitarian approach to aesthetics tells usnothing about the power or enduring

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culture is found to be the basic instru-ment of class oppression."

And yet, Trotsky points out, we urge work-ers to study and master this culture. Howis this possible? He notes that many hadstumbled over this contradiction, forget-ting that fundamentally class society isthe organization of production.

"What," Trotsky continues, "is the basis ofbases -- the class organization of societyor its productive forces? Without doubtthe productive forces ... In the productiveforces is expressed the materialized eco-nomic skill of mankind, his historical abil-ity to ensure his existence." [My empha-sis]

I think this is quite important for our pres-ent discussion. Trotsky is emphasizing, itseems to me, the primacy of culture, asan objective achievement of humanity, asthe materialized form of its historically-acquired skill and abilities, as anabsolute, over its class character, its tran-sitory and relative repository. I would liketo return to this point later.

Art, as a form of spiritual culture, also hadthis objective character in Trotsky's eyes."It is one of the ways in which man findshis bearings in the world; in this sense theheritage of art is not distinguished fromthe heritage of science and technique --and it is no less contradictory than they.Unlike science, however, art is a form ofcognition of the world not as a system oflaws but as a group of images."

This side of the question was expoundedin its most worked-out form in AleksandrVoronsky's Art as the Cognition of Life .Voronsky was a critical figure in Soviet lit-erary life, later a member of the Left

Opposition and in 1937 a victim of Stalin'santi-socialist genocide. As many of youknow, we will shortly be publishing animportant selection of his articles andessays. Voronsky wrote: "Like science,art cognizes life. Both art and sciencehave the same subject: life, reality. Butscience analyzes, art synthesizes; sci-ence is abstract, art is concrete; scienceturns to the mind of man, art to his sen-sual nature. Science cognizes life withthe help of concepts, art with the aid ofimages in the form of living, sensual con-templation ... The genuine poet, the gen-uine artist is one who sees ideas."

It is not difficult to see that this approachpromised much richer and more reward-ing results than those opened up by thesimplistic formula of "proletarian culture."In Literature and Revolution Trotskyapplied Marxist conceptions to Soviet lit-erary life and the more general problem ofartistic creation, with extraordinaryresults.

Unlike our contemporary "critical theo-rists," who write endless, contemplativeand abstract theses which never provideany insight into the actual development ofart or any guidance to its creators,Trotsky devoted himself to a quite con-crete discussion of the various trends,works and individual figures of contem-porary Russian and Soviet literature. Hisanalyses of the careers and writings ofAlexander Blok, Boris Pilnyak andVladimir Mayakovsky, for example,whether or not one is familiar with theirartistic efforts or not, are models ofMarxist criticism.

Throughout the book Trotsky's tone is nei-ther arrogant, nor self-effacing, nor con-descending. He says what he thinks is,

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dess, affects us still; the artistic portrayalof his rage, his pride, his jealousy, contin-ues to strike us as representing some-thing truthful about human beings.

Does all this mean that application of aclass analysis or criterion has no value?Absolutely not. It is an essential part ofthe critique of any work of art, because itreflects the reality of social life, the reali-ty that gave birth to the work. OnlyMarxism can explain how and why agiven tendency in art has emerged at agiven time -- what social force or realityprovided the psychological impulse forthe artist to create his or her work."Artistic creation is always a complicatedturning inside out of old forms," Trotskyexplains, "under the influence of newstimuli which originate outside art." Art is"not a disembodied element feeding onitself, but a function of social man," asmuch as science, philosophy or any otherform of social consciousness.

But the task of clarifying the historical andsocial circumstances in which a particu-lar work emerged should not be confusedwith the task of evaluating it from an aes-thetic viewpoint, which is what so oftenstill happens with us. Once we havemade clear the class outlook of a film-maker or novelist our work is not yetdone, it is not even half done, to be frank.I recognize that overcoming this sort ofapproach is not simple, that it is mostoften the product of inexperience and notof ill will, but we must say what is: this isnot yet Marxist aesthetics.

There has to be an attempt to confront thenew thoughts and feelings that the workhas evoked, the actual content of theaesthetic experience itself. Here I agreewith the comment by Breton that "any

speculation about a work of art is more orless futile if it fails to reveal anything aboutthe heart of the matter: namely, thesecret of the attraction exerted by thatwork." What psychic process has thework initiated or failed to initiate withinus?

To return to the USSR in 1923, the sloganof "proletarian culture" seemed to manyone entirely compatible with Marxism, amilitant slogan, a principled slogan. Butwhat social processes lay behind its sud-den popularity? To whose interests did it -- and similar theories advanced today --correspond?

Trotsky argued against the program ofproletarian culture on the following basis.Its advocates based themselves, as Imentioned before, on vulgar analogiesdrawn between the bourgeois and prole-tarian revolutions. The bourgeoisie tookpower and gave life to bourgeois culture,therefore, the proletarian revolution willgive rise to proletarian culture -- the for-mula was as simple as that. There wasonly one difficulty with this argument.Marxists, including the Bolsheviks, hadnever viewed the taking of power by theworking class as ushering in an entire his-torical epoch of proletarian rule, muchless culture, but the transition to a social-ist, that is, a classless society and culture.Proletarian culture, Trotsky stated cate-gorically, "will never exist, because theproletarian regime is temporary and tran-sient."

Herein of course lay the key to the dis-agreement -- at issue were two entirelyopposed perspectives. Trotsky, thedefender of the Bolshevik prognosis of1917, began from the program of theworld socialist revolution. Thus his view of

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value of art, not the first thing.

Precisely this issue was at the center ofthe party discussion, held in May 1924, atwhich Trotsky so brilliantly intervened,and which is known to us as Class andArt. Prior to Trotsky's remarks that daythe Bolshevik leader Fyodor Raskolnikovhad spoken. Included in his remarks wasa statement to the effect that Dante'sDivine Comedy was of value to the mod-ern reader because it enabled him or herto understand the psychology of a certainclass in a certain epoch.

In his remarks, Trotsky noted that thisapproach to works of art ignored thatwhich made them works of art.Raskolnikov turned the Divine Comedyinto a mere historical document. A workof art, Trotsky observed, must speakdirectly to the reader or the viewer insome fashion, must move or inspire ordepress him or her. A historical approachmight be useful, but it should not be con-fused with an aesthetic one. How is it pos-sible, Trotsky asked, that there should bea directly aesthetic relationship betweena modern reader and a book written in theearly fourteenth century? He answered:because in society, despite the great vari-ations in immediate social circum-stances, there are certain common fea-tures. Artistic genius is capable of regis-tering these common features, and thefeelings and thoughts they provoke, andtransforming them into images in such anindelible manner that we find they speakto us too, although we are hundreds oreven thousands of years distant from thecreation of the work.

Trotsky speaks, by way of example, of thefear of death. The manifestation of thisfear has of course changed along with

changes in epoch and milieu. Butnonetheless what was said on this sub-ject by Shakespeare, Byron, Goethe, andalso by the Old Testament Psalmist stillmoves and affects us.

Why do we recommend Pushkin to theworkers, he asks? Is it because we wantthem to understand how a nobleman anda serfowner encountered the changing ofthe seasons? Clearly not. Of course thissocial element exists. "But the expressionthat Pushkin gave his feelings is so satu-rated with the artistic, and generally withthe psychological, experience of cen-turies, is so crystallized, that it has lasteddown to our times ... And when people tellme that the artistic significance of Dantefor us consists in his expressing the wayof life of a certain epoch, that only makesone spread one's hands in helplessness."

Here everything is to the point. We enjoyDante not because he was a Florentinepetty bourgeois of the thirteenth and four-teenth century, "but, to a considerableextent, in spite of that circumstance."

In addition to the historical, class-motivat-ed, class-determined element in art,there is in the greatest works a transhis-torical, objectively truthful, relatively uni-versal component. And that component -- containing grains of absolute truth -- isprimary; it is of the greatest interest andsignificance to us. Indeed one might saythat this is one of the defining features ofa great work: that it does not impress us,above all, with its class bias, with itsimmediacy, although it grasps the imme-diate and the fleeting, but raises theexperience of an epoch to a tremendousartistic height. The character of Homer'sAchilles, whether or not we choose tobelieve that his mother was a sea god-

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sentatives of this bureaucracy within thepetty bourgeois intelligentsia. And Iwould suggest furthermore, as I indicatedtoward the beginning of my report, if weare able to hold this discussion today --from the point of view of its objectivebasis -- it is because these bureaucra-cies are breaking up, having exposedthemselves as worthless and rotten, andwe are therefore in a far better position tofree ourselves from these false aesthetictheories, just as we are in a far morefavorable position to help workers liber-ate themselves from the political hold ofthese apparatuses.

I might add, on a personal note, that Ihave never yet encountered a thinkingworker, a socialist-minded worker whoonly wanted to see films or plays or readbooks about working class life and themodern class struggle. Genuinely revolu-tionary workers want to educate them-selves about every aspect of life, historyand culture. And neither have I ever yetmet a thinking worker who was terrifiedby experiment and difficulty in art, even ifhe felt it went over his head, as long as itwas honestly done, not merely for effect.Because we have confidence in the work-ing class we do not feel the need to setup prescriptions as to what ought orought not be discussed. This is the spiritof What Is To Be Done? as well asLiterature and Revolution.

While we are on the subject of taboos, letme refer to the residue of prudery fromwhich we still sometimes suffer. I cannotresist quoting from an article Engels wrotein 1883 for the Sozialdemokrat. It is notnecessary to cite Engels to make thepoint, but the article is delightful.

The piece was a tribute to the German

poet and revolutionary Georg Weerth,who had been the cultural editor of theNeue Rheinische Zeitung, the journaledited by Marx and Engels in 1848-49.

Engels wrote: "There was one thing inwhich Weerth was unsurpassable, andhere he was more masterful than Heine(because he was healthier and less artifi-cial), and only Goethe in the German lan-guage excelled him here: that wasexpressing natural robust sensuousnessand the joys of the flesh. Many readers ofthe Sozialdemokrat would be horrified,were I to reprint here the individual feuil-letons of the Neue Rheinische Zeitung.But I haven't the slightest intention ofdoing so. Yet, I cannot refrain from point-ing out that there will come a time whenGerman Socialists, too, will triumphantlydiscard the last traces of German philis-tine prejudices and hypocritical moralprudery -- and anyhow, they only serve asa cover for surreptitious obscenity......

"It is high time that at least the Germanworkers get accustomed to speaking in afree and easy manner as do the peoplesof the Romanic lands, Homer and Plato,Horace and Juvenal, the Old Testament,and the Neue Rheinische Zeitung, aboutthe things they themselves do every dayor night, these natural, indispensible andhighly pleasurable things."

Art and social revolution

As you may recall, Trotsky asked inClass and Art why it was that Marxistsrecommended Pushkin -- a poet of theserf-owning class -- to the workers. Iwould like to return to this issue again, asit points us even more concretely towardthe relationship between art and socialrevolution.

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the political and cultural situation in theSoviet Union: "We are, as before, merelysoldiers in a campaign. We are bivouack-ing for a day. Our shirt has to be washed,our hair has to be cut and combed and,most important of all the rifle has to becleaned and oiled. Our entire present-day economic and cultural work is nothingmore than a bringing of ourselves intoorder between two battles and two cam-paigns ... Our epoch is not yet the epochof new culture, but only the entrance to it."

One can imagine the sort of furious reac-tion this argument elicited from the self-satisfied Nepman or state official whowanted, above all else, to distance him-self from the demands of the world revo-lution and enjoy what he considered to behis rightful place in the newly-stabilizedSoviet order. The contention of the nas-cent bureaucracy and its petty bourgeoishangers-on that the Soviet state faced anextended period of isolated developmentduring which time a "proletarian culture"could flourish implicitly accepted the con-tinued existence of capitalism outside theUSSR and the need to find an accommo-dation with it.

The embracing of "proletarian art" was areflection in the field of culture of thesame deep skepticism toward the revolu-tionary capacities of the working classand the potential for the overthrow ofcapitalism internationally that foundexpression, in the field of politics, in theprogram of "socialism in one country."Despite its 'left' sound proletarian cultureis always accompanied in politics bynationalism, opportunism and reformism.

The advocates of proletarian culturedenounced a concern for aesthetic val-ues and for refinement in art in general.

Trotsky responded: "'Give us,' they say,'something even pock-marked, but ourown.' This is false and untrue. A pock-marked art is no art and is therefore notnecessary to the working masses. Thosewho believe in a 'pock-marked' art areimbued to a considerable extent withcontempt for the masses."

It is not the business of revolutionaries toglorify or idealize working class life, thelife of the oppressed, whether immediate-ly after a social revolution, as in Trotsky'scase, or prior to it, as in ours. We judgethese things quite soberly. There is, how-ever, a social grouping whose interest itserves to extol the virtues of "workingclass culture" as it presently exists; toobstruct any attempt to raise the popularintellectual level; to direct the attention ofworkers to the most immediate and banalissues; to arrogate to itself the right todecide what the workers can and cannotsee; to reject as "esoteric" and "deca-dent" anything it cannot understand.Which social grouping possesses thissort of mentality in abundance? That mid-dle class layer that lives parasitically offthe oppressed condition of the proletari-at: the labor bureaucracy, whetherStalinist, social democratic reformist or"pure," all-American trade unionist.

And I would further maintain that theprevalence for an entire historical periodof anti-Marxist conceptions hostile to aes-thetic value in art, invariably including"formless talk," as Trotsky called it, aboutthe possibility of an independent proletar-ian culture, was bound up with the domi-nance of bureaucracy over the workingclass at the expense of the socialistmovement. The proponents of proletari-an culture and social utility as the solecriterion in art are essentially the repre-

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its great power consists in its ability toconnect human beings, as though byinvisible wires, at the most profound andintimate levels. To become whole, humanbeings require the truth about the world,and about themselves, that art offers.

The art of past centuries has made manmore complex and flexible, Trotsky com-ments in Culture and Socialism, hasraised his mentality to a higher level, hasenriched him in an all-round way. InLiterature and Revolution, after notingthat genuine individuality is preciselywhat the average worker lacks, Trotskysuggests that art contributes to a height-ening "of the objective quality and thesubjective consciousness of individuality."He goes on: "What the worker will takefrom Shakespeare, Pushkin, orDostoyevsky, will be a more complex ideaof human personality, of its passions andfeelings, a deeper and more profoundunderstanding of its psychic forces and ofthe role of the subconscious, etc. In thefinal analysis, the worker will be richer."

And in what does the disturbing or sub-versive quality of art consist? Does thatquality manifest itself exclusively, or evenprimarily, through the presentation of anexplicitly social and political content inart? Can one speak, on the contrary,about the subversive quality of a piece oforchestral music, or an abstract painting,or a love poem, or a popular film? I cer-tainly believe one can and, indeed, must.

The impulse to freedom, the striving for acomplete and fulfilling existence, mentallyand physically, in opposition to theunbearable reality, is an absolute.Lyricism, says Breton, is the beginning ofa protest. This protest, conscious orunconscious, is an element of every cre-

ative work.

A true work of art appeals to and setsloose powerful forces within the behold-er. It brings to the point of highest tension,if only in what Freud called "the deepestlayers of the psychic mechanism," theconflict between life as it is and life as ithas hitherto appeared only in humanity'sdreams. The products of art unleashlibidinal and destructive energy, evokeneeds and desires which cannot be satis-fied within the immediate circumstancesof the individual or within the existingoppressive social structure as a whole,needs and desires which demand aresponse, a response which in the endcan only be found in the social revolution.Breton speaks of aesthetic perceptionswhich "are of such a nature as to bebewildering and revolutionary, in thesense that they urgently call for some-thing to answer them in outer reality."

I believe some of Marx's earliest writings,despite their unresolved political charac-ter, speak to these issues. He graspedbrilliantly the age-old and inexhaustiblestriving for liberation, that element thatnever disappears, no matter how dis-heartening the social conditions, frommankind's artistic efforts.

He wrote in 1843: "Hence, our motto mustbe: reform of consciousness not throughdogmas, but by analysing the mysticalconsciousness that is unintelligible toitself, whether it manifests itself in a reli-gious or a political form. It will thenbecome evident that the world has longdreamed of possessing something ofwhich it has only to be conscious in orderto possess it in reality. It will become evi-dent that it is not a question of drawing agreat mental dividing line between the

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Mr. Evans objects to the phrase "spiritualexperience." Notwithstanding his objec-tion, the spiritual impoverishment ofbroad layers of the population remains avery real and material obstacle today tothe development of the socialist move-ment. The Marxists face a considerablechallenge in creating an audience thatcan grasp and respond to their politicalprogram and perspectives. To belittle theneed for the enrichment of popular con-sciousness under the current conditionsseems highly irresponsible.

How does a revolution come about? Is itsimply the product of socialist agitationand propaganda brought to bear in favor-able objective conditions? Is that how theOctober Revolution came about? Wehave spent a good deal of time as a partythinking about this in recent years. Oneof our conclusions has been that the rev-olution of 1917 was not simply the prod-uct of a national or even internationalpolitical and social process, that it was aswell the outcome of a decades-long effortto build up an international socialist cul-ture, a culture which brought into its orbitand assimilated the most critical achieve-ments of bourgeois political and socialthought, art and science. The essentialintellectual bases for the revolution of1917 were established of course bythose political theorists and revolutionistswho had consciously made the end ofcapitalist rule their goal. But the streamsand tributaries that feed into and makepossible a revolutionary torrent are vastin number, a complex system of influ-ences that interact, contradict and rein-force one another.

The creation of an environment in which itbecomes suddenly possible for large

numbers of people to rise up and con-sciously set about the dismantling of theold society, casting aside the prejudices,habits and learned behavior built up overdecades, even centuries; prejudices,habits and behavior which inevitably takeon a life of their own, with their ownapparently independent powers of resist-ance -- the overcoming of this historicalinertia and the creation of an insurrec-tionary climate cannot possibly be con-ceived of as merely a political task.

We recognize that the all-rounded social-ist human being is only a creature of thefuture -- the not-too-distant future, wetrust. But that is not the same thing assaying that there need to be no changesin the hearts and minds of masses of peo-ple before the social revolution canbecome a reality. We live in an age of cul-tural stagnation and decline, in whichtechnical marvels are primarily used in aneffort to numb and anaesthetize massesof people and render them vulnerable tothe most backward conceptions andmoods.

The sharpening of the critical faculties ofthe population -- its collective ability todistinguish truth from lies, the essentialfrom the inessential, its own elementaryinterests from the interests of its dead-liest enemies -- and the raising of its spir-itual level to the point where large num-bers of people will demonstrate nobility,make great sacrifices, think only of theirfellow men and women -- all of this arisesout of an intellectual and moral heighten-ing which must be the product of theadvance of human culture as a whole.

Art expresses things about life, aboutpeople and about oneself that are notrevealed in political or scientific thought;

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failure to pay proper attention to the sig-nificance of cultural matters, but I willargue that its unpreparedness on aseries of questions made it politically andtheoretically vulnerable when a new setof political problems arose in the 1970s,including quite centrally the challengerepresented by an influx of middle classintellectuals, and that this unprepared-ness proved to be an destabilizing factor.

Modern history has demonstrated that allcritical thought under capitalism gravi-tates toward Marxism. The artists andintellectuals who have eyes in their headsand who have something to say willinevitably be drawn to this party. We willnot be allowed the privilege of improvis-ing and making up our response as we goalong.

I think this school and the entire develop-ment of the party over the past period arecause for great confidence. Our partyhas a clean banner. We are the declaredenemies of capitalism and bureaucracy.No other movement can appeal on such abasis to workers. And no other move-ment can make our appeal to the artists.I have no reason to alter the words withwhich Trotsky and Breton concluded their1938 manifesto:

Our aims:"The independence of art for the revolu-tion.”

"The revolution for the complete liberationof art!"

Lecture delivered on January 9, 1998 to theInternational Summer School on Marxism andthe Fundamental Problems of the 20thCentury, organised by the Socialist EqualityParty (Australia) in Sydney from January 3-10.

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past and the future, but of realising thethoughts of the past. Lastly, it will becomeevident that mankind is not beginning anew work, but is consciously carrying intoeffect its old work." [My emphasis]

Bringing this "dream of something" intohumanity's conscious and unconsciouslife is the eternal labor of art.

Conclusion

In bringing this presentation to a conclu-sion, I would like to turn briefly to our owntasks. The revolutionary party hasimmense responsibilities today in thesphere of art, and culture generally. Wehave made the point that so much thatwould have been taken for granted bysocialists and artists alike sixty or seven-ty years ago -- an elementary hostility, forexample, to bourgeois morality, patriot-ism, the forces of law and order, religioussuperstition -- is virtually unknown in intel-lectual circles today. The reconstructionof a culture, or more properly the buildingof a new one, is not a simple matter, norsomething that is done overnight.

We have made the point, as well, that thespark of human genius has not gone out,but that, blocked particularly by the para-lyzing impact of Stalinism, it has poureditself one-sidedly into the scientific andtechnical side of cultural life for half a cen-tury. An artistic and social renaissance isinevitable. Perhaps this school indicatesthat it has already begun.

I have used this word "one-sided" a num-ber of times today, more often than Iwould like. I will throw caution to the windand suggest that we declare a war onone-sidedness. The social upheavals tocome will demand an unprecedented all-

sidedness of Marxists.

I hope that I will not scandalize anyonehere if I suggest that there are objectivedangers in the "revolutionary and politi-cal" one-sidedness that Trotsky described-- I believe -- in somewhat regretful andanxious tones in Literature andRevolution. The warning that AndréBreton issued, notwithstanding the factthat it was issued against the narrownessof the increasingly Stalinized CommunistParty of France in the early 1930s, is stillworth bearing in mind. What a risk therevolutionary "would be taking," Bretondeclared, "were he only to count, in orderto arrive at his goals, on the tension of acord along whose whole length he wouldhave to pass while absolutely forbidden,from the moment he started out, to lookup or down!"

Gerry Healy, the leader of the BritishSocialist Labour League and laterWorkers Revolutionary Party, used to sayin the late 1960s and early 1970s, inadmitting quite candidly his own lack ofknowledge about the subtler culturalproblems, "We didn't have time, we didn'thave time to study these things." And Iam not in any position to render judgment,or to suggest that such a specializedstudy was objectively possible under theimmensely difficult conditions faced bythe Trotskyist movement in the postwarperiod. I am only speaking of objectivefacts. Again I think the one-sidedness ofour own party for an historical period wasin part a function of the dominance of thereactionary, uncultured, anticommunistlabor bureaucracies and the isolation ofthe Marxist tendency.

I am certainly not ascribing the degenera-tion of the Healy WRP leadership to its

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police systems seems to be over andbecause the postmodernism move-ment has overthrown the great narra-tions, pulverising them into thousandsof ideologems), one cannot claim thatour apparent diversity would be com-pletely decentred. It is still massivelybounded by the great anticommunistideology and her multiple forms andthe proof is the fact that the left isdelaying its realignment in a plausibleform.

Otherwise, one can also distinguishother ideological levels such as ortho-doxy, neo-conservatism, liberalspeeches… Thus, one finds the “pureand simple” memory of the facts livedtwo or three decades ago in theimpasse that a Procustian pattern of amomentary interpretation of the tempo-ral continuum past-present implies.

That is why the written account of acrucial episode from the youth of thewriter comes across certain difficultieswhich have little to do with the reminis-cence of the facts – mainly unaltered –as well as any subjective precarious-ness regarding the inner valorisation ofwhat has happened. It is confronted,however, with the present dominantspeech regarding the category of factsto which I am referring and it implicitlyhas to surpass certain social and men-tality obstacles as well. Moreover,beyond the dominant ways of thinkingand prejudices, it also has to face thevanities of the exponents of the maintendencies of the day, who are oftentruly representative characters pos-

sessing a certain charisma, but, at thesame time, hard to detach from theinner way of thinking that they sustain,thus risking their own credibility.

The end of the 70s and the beginningof the next decade – which would bringthe full manifestation of the atrocity of acommunist-nationalistic dictatorshipthat particular signs had already fore-seen – was not only the age of anincreasing ideological pressure overthe Romanian individual.

Instrumentally speaking, the age wasalso a frame in which the domination ofthe Party apparatus was exercised bythe means of the persuasive and intru-sive action of the Security, installing apsychotic public environment of propa-gandistic delirium and mutual suspi-cion. The means of accession to pro-fessional careers without compromisenarrowed, the expressions of fidelitytowards the great ones of the daymonopolised more and more publish-ing space and the consequence of theMarxist pretext, supplier with respect topreserving the “dictatorship of the pro-letariat”, was that some academic cen-tres dedicated to the formation of theintellectual elites were maintainedwithin reduced numerical standards.All in all, when I finished high schooland decided to become a historian Ilearnt that the profile college was seenas highly ideological and that the can-didates were required to have applica-tion files which would certify their fideli-ty towards the Romanian CommunistParty. In between submitting the appli-

The tyranny of clichés also looms overthe living past and the participation to itdoes not guarantee its unaltered trans-mission. Judgments of value belongingto a time, made in accordance with aspecific chart of values, whose wingedbearers are always “the key-words”,the prestigious clichés, “the ready-made ideas” (a saying of Flaubert,rephrased in a native book title byLaurentiu Cernet, a droll author which Ionce knew in a mental institution inBanat). From here to one of the histor-ical embodiments of the phenomenoncalled “wooden language” (FrançoiseThom) there is only one step; a stepwhich societies are rushing to take,especially under the circumstances ofan ideology, whether outspoken orinsidious. Despite that, in presentRomania, we live in a so-calledpostideological time (given the fact thatthe domination of the great systems ofideas endorsed by the great state and

The Gataia Experiment

by Ovidiu Pecican

˘

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cation file (June) and the beginning ofthe admittance examinations (July) theSecurity would check in its ownarchives the history of the candidatesand then decide which ones camefrom trustworthy families and whichfrom parents who were hostile to theregime. As the number of admissionseats in Cluj and Iasi was 25 – asopposed to Bucharest which, never-theless, had double – the decision totry my luck in the capital ofTransylvania was risky from the begin-ning, especially since my father hadbeen a prisoner in Siberia as a soldieron the eastern front in the Romanianarmy, taken prisoner in the summer of1944 and, besides, he had also beenin jail “under the communists” towardthe end of the first native Stalinism(around 1961-1963). To my surprise,my file passed the check-up. But, asexpected, given the fact that the com-petition was 10 per seat, I failed theexamination, which immediately turnedme into a potential candidate for the“long” one year and a half military serv-ice. The depression and the melan-choly, which took hold of me duringthat autumn when I stayed behind iso-lated in my town while my former col-leagues were heading for the universi-ty centres ready for a new start, led meto an inconclusive recruitment.Therefore, I was sent to the PsychiatrySection of the Military Hospital inTimisoara for a supervised probation.At the end of it, I was postponed fromwearing the kaki clothes for a year,thus gaining the privilege I ardentlydesired to get ready for a new attempt

to accede to the University of Cluj.However, I quickly understood that thisdream could become an illusion if Iwas not going to spend time in aNervous Disease Hospital, as it wascalled at that time, to avoid the springrecruitment. At that time, I frequentedthe world of the local young under-ground artists; hence a lot of friendsrecommended an itinerary which theythemselves had taken toward theHospital in the village of Gataia, in theheart of the plain of Banat. The painterViorel Florian Oros, the poet Ioan T.Morar (Biju, as we used to call him) thelitterate Ilie Trut (today in the USA) andothers who had been there told me thatwhat set apart the establishment fromother similar institutions was that itlooked like a holiday resort, hidden in awillow forest; that it had a manager of agreat intellectual persuasion, RaduRacman; that its heredity was of thebest quality – among the doctors whohad practiced there was Dan Arthur, alocal legendary figure who had anentire pavilion named after him – andthat the medical staff composed main-ly of people with artistic inclinationsand with great knowledge had a lot ofgood will toward the young men andwomen in particular situations, helpingthem even beyond the professionalboundaries.

I arrived there in the summer of 1980and I was convinced of the certainty ofwhat I had been told. PsychologistAna-Maria Gheti, a music lover and apainter herself, was a warm presenceand had all the authority provided by

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her professional excellence. DoctorOvidiu Pantazopol – who, I sadly findout, has died in the meanwhile – wasan unrivalled collector of objects ofarchaeological and artistic interest andhis wife attended to the valuable libraryof the hospital. There was also DoctorTiberiu Mircea, an essayist and aphilosopher descending or inspired byNoica whose books had just begun toappear. But above all, there spread theshadow of the psychiatrists fromTimisoara, Eduard Pamfil, DoruOgodescu and Stössel who had elabo-rated the so-called „triontic model ofpersonality”, that clearly led me to thinkabout the holy triad, and who, in themonograph about Psychosis, seemedto talk bravely about the experimentswith hallucinogens and the experi-ences that they induced, which was animmense act of bravery for the timeand the place we were living in. Amongthe members of the staff who did nothave a university education, a distin-guished figure was the sculptorNicolae whose works embellished thecentral park of the hospital and amongthose who found a perpetual shelterthere – without necessarily being someincurable persons that had lost thesense of reality, but rather having acertain vulnerability against “themadding crowd” of socialism – therewas the poet Balan, discovered andhelped in his debut in Bucharest by thephilosopher Gabriel Liiceanu.

When I arrived at Gaitaia, Liiceanu andhis friend Kleininger were alreadythere, coming back like in as if in a

space sheltered from any intrusion andsimilar to a Benedictine surrounding, inorder to translate some texts of MartinHeidegger. I was introduced to both ofthem at lunch by Ana Maria Gheti andwe all talked about Noica whose workswe would ardently read toward the endof high school and after it.

They were not, in fact, the only onesbelonging to the category of the “unof-ficial” scholars to find refuge in the hos-pital guarded by acacias. There, I alsomet the writer Laurentiu Cercet fromTimisoara whose science fiction shortstories I had previously known, butwith whom I only became directly inti-mate now, learning to appreciate hiswit. During the mornings, he too wouldwork on a book, a Dictionary of ready-made ideas according to a model ofFlaubert. The overall feeling was thatof a privileged place, an artistic oasis,even though the gowns worn by moreor less sedated patients were not miss-ing. This way, I found out that the guysof the Phoenix band that had been infashion only a couple of years beforebut who had, in the meantime, fled tothe West, had spent some time atGaitaia, composing some of the songson the Cantafabule album. Whetherthis is true or not, they are the onesentitled to say it, but if they will not, Ishall not be surprised.

I have tried several times during thepast years to propose to some intellec-tuals who have benefited from themoral support and the attention of themedical staff at Gaitaia consequently

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to mediate my participation to a publicdiscussion on this subject. I knew shewas among the guests of the latest edi-tions of the Sighet Summer Schoolorganised by Ana Blandiana andRomulus Rusan under the emblem ofthe Civic Academy and, as that was aplace where the testimonies wererecorded, transcribed and then pub-lished, I thought it would be the mostappropriate forum for a truth restora-tion of this kind. Indeed, a short corre-spondence with the poet AnaBlandiana followed, but, other than aninvitation to a panel in Bucharest, forwhich I lacked the means and theeagerness, I did not solve anything. Ido not regret it happened this way. The“Pavilion” magazine – a title thatreminds me of my stay at Gaitaia –seems even more appropriate to setthings straight and start the discussion,because I am sure that the “Gaitaiaexperiment” was not the only one of itskind within the former communist con-centration camp, and this way, therecould be a better comparative estima-tion of the way in which the doctorsand the psychologists from Banatmanaged to remain close to the peoplein the spirit of their profession, in spiteof the pressure from the state, thedenunciations and the secret police.

I would also rush, after thanking thepeople I knew then, even after all theseyears, to identify in Gaitaia a “free com-munist zone” long before the redregime fell.

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to some psychological needs or simplyas some help offered in a precarioussocial and political situation to talkabout all this, restoring the truth. It wasin vain as nobody is willing to admitthat he has been in a “mental institu-tion”, even if this experience helped tosave their mental integrity, their posi-tion and gave them hope or preventedthem from dying.

Not even the writer Florin Banescufrom Banat, a generous and hotspurman who was at that moment andwould be for a long time the head ofthe writers in Arad did not speak glad-ly about his stages at Gaitaia, eventhough he has dedicated one of hisnovels, Tangaj to them. Without havinga mutual understanding, but simplybecause I had been impressed by it, Idid the same when, in 1984, I wrote myfirst novel, Me and My Monkey, whichwas going to be printed only during thefirst months after the fall of Ceausescu.I knew as well that before taking off tothe free world, Al. Monciu-Sudinski, areputed poet and writer, whose hungerstrike on the Parisian esplanadeTrocadero I would hear about on theFree Europe Radio shows, had pref-aced his salvation by spending sometime in the same hospital.

I have often thought about the unspo-ken injustice which we maintained bykeeping quiet, especially during theyears after 1989 when an open discus-sion was possible and the restorationof the truth in all its gradations becamecompulsory from then on. But who to

do it? Some had left the country; somehad become first figures of the civilsociety whereas others were still afraidof the mark that would be stamped onthem. And yet, when people talk,according to a Bukovskian model,about the psychiatric crimes that somedoctors in our country have committed(at the Poiana Mare Hospital, forinstance, in cases such as the one ofVasile Paraschiv); when doctor IonVianu and others draw attentiontoward the exisitence of such centreswhose work was impregnated by thecollaboration with the Security, I feelthe need to become relative and provethat not all the psychiatry practitionersin Romania acted, at that time, as itwas described and to offer as anexample what I lived and I know frommy own experience. In my discussionswith Doctor Ovidiu Pantazopol or withPsychologist Ana-Maria Gheti, therewas never the question of asking themto avert from the deontological or pro-fessional norms in order to help meelude the horrible compulsory militaryservice (In fact, I joined it, as soon as Ifinished college during the autumn of1985 and the spring of 1986). And still,these people had the care and delica-cy to give me a diagnosis so that themedical commission of the army wouldfind me unable to serve at arms, with-out, however, having to carry the bur-den of a severe psychiatric diagnosisin the future.

Two years ago, I shared this anguishwith my friend, the poet and essayistRuxandra Cesereanu and I asked her

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trols, the large presence of conceptual(or likely conceptual) art approaches inthe French students' works put me infront of a different mainstream. I gener-ally knew the references used, but evenso I realized that they do not have thesame relevance. At the same time, mybackground in textile arts put me in aquite ambivalent position. The EasternEurope's decorative arts - which havebeen in some cases the field of avant-garde experiments during the commu-nist period (being less constrained bythe rules of socialist-realism as weretheir «major» counterparts: picture,sculpture or graphic arts) - were2,unequivocally in the French academicsystem, part of the applied arts. As forme, I was rather attached to forms liketextile-sculpture or installation than todesign3.

What was in a way quite different fromRomania was the credit given to the the-oretical aspects. This was proved notonly by the general culture courses wecould find in the curricula, but also by thesignificant number of conferences sus-tained by major cultural actors. Theseconferences were also an important linkwith the art scene. I really did appreciatetheir argumentative character, and Iremain convinced that they were amongthe things I have benefited from themost.

I remember one particular conference,to which I was specially invited by mysupervisor on behalf of the lecturer'srelation with Eastern Europe. The youngartist was making a presentation of hiswork, much of it realized in one of theCaucasus ex-Soviet Union's republics.

His work was composed by minimalistsculptures - metallic parallelepipeds -that he exposed in public spaces of thecountry's capital with, or sometimeswithout, authorities’ accord. The presen-tation also included references to theartistic general context, namely thetown's overwhelming presence of social-ist-realist statues. Beside, there werereferences to the conditions in which theworks have been realized - in one of thelocal, at the brink of economic survival,socialist metallurgical enterprises.According to the artist's «credo», theaesthetic minimalist aspect of his workwas, in fact, secondary. What was muchmore relevant was the «choc» he tried tocreate in the passers-by with his «con-temporary» works, works that opposedthe « expired » aesthetic of the men-tioned socialist-realist statues. Last butnot least, he mentioned the lack of con-tact with the local artistic community, therelationship he established with theworkers in the enterprise, the discus-sions around a bottle of vodka and thefact he was able to offer what was prob-ably the last order for the dying enter-prise and its workers. This latest partwas illustrated by a film realized by acameraman from the local national tele-vision, which, by its aesthetics qualities,reminded of the Soviet cinema school. I remember the reaction I have stirredamong my French colleagues by declar-ing myself disappointed with the presen-tation. I was not bothered as much bythe «choc» that the artist had tried toprovoke on the streets of the Georgiancapital (this fact is open to several inter-pretations), as I was by the reductionistway of presentation of the local artisticcontext. Showing the socialist-realist

In 1998, I received a scholarship at theEcole Regionale de Beaux Arts inNantes, France. It was my second trip inWestern Europe. The first was in 1995,due to the initiative of the two CEP lec-tures from Visual Art Universities in Clujand Bucharest1.

Completing all the necessary formalities,including at that time those for the visa, Ileft for Nantes. The linguistic «choc» Iwas so afraid of, proved less important.My French, learned from books and car-toons, proved good enough not only forfacing the everyday life but even therequirements of academic life. As for thecultural «choc», this one was of realinterest.

Being at the Ecole Regionale de BeauxArts in Nantes was probably an advan-tage. The school has the fame of one ofthe most dynamic in France, both by itsopenness to the new art forms, as by its«post-diplôme» program conceived foryoung international artists. From thispoint of view, it was quite a cosmopolitanatmosphere.

Growing up in Ceausescu's Romania,with all its discursive (and not only) con-

Socialism, Avant-Garde,and the Western Europeans

by Tincuta Parv,

>

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Yet what I find even more dangerous isthat this refusal of the Eastern Europe'sreality covers in fact the refuse toembrace the Westerners own reality.How else could one understand the pos-itive image of the «worker» in a worldwho seams to be replacing the idea of«worker» with that of the «employee»?8

The East-West dichotomy remains verymuch present in contemporary dis-course and, most of the time, not in acritical and/or substantial way. There arealways a main and a secondary stream.9

But what seems to generate conflict, isprecisely the distance we foundbetween the representations and thereality. And the game is now played byactors of the both sides. There areEastern art productions that try to bettersell themselves on the Western marketby using the old common places, asthere are Western productions which arelooking to enlarge their potential byaddressing to the both sides. The fall ofthe Iron Curtain had facilitated theexchanges, and some data changedwith it. Yet we continue to work with theold «clichés», without realizing that whatwe are facing is an attempt of « globaliz-ing » hegemony.

As for myself, after the months spent inFrance, I returned in Romania andbecame more and more interested in thequestions related to the cultural transla-tion and the documentary aspects. Ieven got a master degree on culturalanthropology. I also feel the urge to getinvolved in advancing new art contexts.I am not the only one. Some of my col-leagues did the same.

Notes

1 The two CEP (Civic Education Project -pro-gram of the Central European University inBudapest) lecturers were Sylvie Moreau andAnn Allbriton. Thank you both! See «CivicEducation Project Newsletter», Volume 1,Number 2, Summer 1995. 2 See Alexandra Titu: «Experimentalism inRomanian Art After the '60s», I-CAN Reader,2003.3 The influence played during my formation bythe tridimmensional works of MagdalenaAbakanowicz or Ana Lupas's performancesand installations is to be mention. The latestone was a leading figure of the Romanian tex-tile art movement. She was also member ofthe «Atelier 35», an underground art manifes-tation in the '80s. See Magda Carneci: «The'80s», I-CAN Reader, 2003.4 To understand the realms of socialism sys-tem's functioning, see the study of KatherineVerdery: «Socialism and Resistance.»,PrincenstonUniversity Press, 1996.5 Panait Istrati (1884-1935), French writer ofRomanian origin. He traveled in URSS in thelate 20s. He strongly denonced the reality ofthe Stalinist dictorship, being accused of tratorby its French Communist collegues. 6 Nikos Kazantzakis (1883-1957), Grec writerand journalist. He traveled in URSS in the late'20s. He was one of the few having denoncedthe reality of the Stalinist dictorship.7 Italo Calvino, Italian writer and journalist.He traveled in the Eastern part of Europe dur-ing the '50s and took attitude against the mis-presenation of the Eastern Europe's reality. 8 See Pierre-Damien Huyghe – «Eloge del'aspect», Editions MIX, Paris, 2006.9 See Marina Grzinic – «Abstraction, evacua-tion of resistance and sensualisation of empti-ness», in Pavilion, no. 9, Chaos - Reader ofBucharest Biennale 2, Bucharest, 2006.

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statues and saying that they are largelyrepresentative for the local state of theart, meant to deny the imposed charac-ter of their aesthetics. The refuse of anycontact with the local artistic community,on the reason of it being corrupt beyondredemption, meant also the neglect ofthe «resistance» to the official rules. Allthese amounted to denying the reality ofthe place4.

Secondly, the interest manifested for theenterprise's «workers», forced me toraise some questions: “Why is it neces-sary to travel in ex-socialist countries inorder to have a drink with the workers?Why socializing with French workerswould not be enough to find out theirpolitical and social convictions? Wouldthat be because the present state of theFrench working class does not fit a cer-tain conceptualization?”

Finally, I could not stop from asking: “Ifthe aesthetic aspects were secondary,and the relation established between theartist and the locals proved to be of theorder of a «cultural exoticism» or «nos-talgia», what really remains from the artwork?” Probably the film of the localcameraman...

My intention here is not to deliver a dev-astating critique of the above-mentionedwork, which, perhaps, was not evenamong the most relevant ones. Yet Ithink that this episode may nicelyembody what I have found to be a moregeneralized perspective on EasternEurope - at least in the French society.At that moment, it became clear to methat the artist was playing with some«clichés» of the French cultural scene.

We didn't find out much about the realstate of facts in the ex-Soviet Union'srepublic's capital, but, what was certain,was that the «exposé» made by theartist was trying to play along with theFrench art scene's debates. TheEastern Europe was just a pretext to dis-cuss some of the artist's «parties-pris»:«unshakeable» political convictions anda «traditionalized» avant-garde attitude.As an Eastern European myself, I havefound the presentation hardly convinc-ing. In the end, my French colleagues’surprise proved that I have failed to val-idate the common places they shared. Of course, it will be rather reductionistnot to take into consideration the histori-cal aspects and the context of those«parties-pris». Hopefully, I do under-stand them better now than I did at thattime. It will also be a mistake not to takeinto consideration that the works of artaddress supposedly an art-world - andthis world is not just that of an ex-SovietUnion's republic. Besides, the refuse toacknowledge the Eastern Europe realityas it is/was is not, by any means, a newone. The discursive frame regarding that« part of the world » was highly polarizedboth before and after Second World War- and I allude here mainly at the left-rightpolarity. On one hand, one had the ideo-logical non-critical sympathy for thepolitical left, and on the other one, thedemonized image of a political systemsupported by conservative politicians.The intellectuals that took attitudeagainst the left « myopia » found them-selves political isolated. Panait Istrati's5

and Nikos Kazantzachis's6 cases in the'30s, and later on that of Italo Calvino7

during the '60s stands as a proof.

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the other hand, a decay of the structuralconditions within which Keynesian liber-alism could function. So the struggletoday has been renamed: one key term isdemocratic participation and representa-tion, and those who use this language willrarely invoke liberalism. When we praiseliberalism, it is often a situated defense:as against neoliberalism, as against fun-damentalisms and despotisms – this isnot necessarily invoking historical liberal-ism, which at its origins was defendingthe rights of an emerging class of proper-ty owners, but the best aspects of a doc-trine that had to do with the fight againstthe despotism of Crown and nobility.

MW: In your new book,1 you call thedevelopment of the US state "illiberal". Isthis a more general development that canbe seen in other countries as well?

SS: Theoretically speaking, I would saythat we will see similar trends in other lib-eral democratic regimes that are neo-lib-eralizing their social policies, hollowingout their legislatures/parliaments, andaugmenting as well as privatizing or pro-tecting the power of their executive orprime ministerial branch of government.That is to say, we will see these trendswhere we see the conditions I identify forthe US, even though they will assumetheir own specific forms and contents. Iwould say that Blair's reign in the UKespecially since the war on Iraq hasclearly moved in this direction. Instead ofbeing guided (and disciplined!) by theCabinet, which is parliament based, Blairset up a parallel "cabinet" at DowningStreet from which he got much of hisadvice and confirmations of the correct-ness of his decisions. This had the effectof hollowing out the real Cabinet. This

may also explain why some of the lead-ing figures of the real Cabinet resigned:Robin Cook, Clare Short. All of this is wellknown and much commented on in theUK. At the same time, I would argue thateven though Berlusconi's regime hadsome of these features, it was more aconsequence of corruption and manipu-lation of the political apparatus than thetype of systemic development I am allud-ing to. The answer to your question isalso empirical: we need research tounderstand where this systemic trend isemerging and becoming visible/opera-tional.

MW: Many European countries are cur-rently contemplating introducing sometype of "citizenship tests". In Sweden, thetraditionally social liberal Folkpartiet haspursued this issue and proposed thatimmigrants have to pass a language testto become Swedish citizens. Generally,the party wants to apply more paternalis-tic political measures – "tough on crime",more discipline in schools – especiallyregarding immigrants. The correspondingpolitical party in Denmark has, during itstime in office, brought this developmenteven further. Speaking of liberalism as apolitical ideology, do you see it as beingin the midst of a crisis, or is it simplyadapting to the conditions of the prevail-ing (economic, political, legal, etc) order?

SS: I would say traditional liberalism is incrisis, or at least being attacked by thegovernments themselves as well as bypowerful economic actors and certain tra-ditional society sectors, such as funda-mentalist evangelical groups in the US.Why should it last forever? Nothing has –except the Catholic Church, I guess. Butto do so it has had to reinvent itself regu-

Magnus Wennerhag: Today, there is anobvious difference between the rhetoricof liberalism – that is, liberalism as politi-cal ideology – and the actual workings ofthe state in liberal-democratic polities.From an historical perspective, howshould we understand this difference?

Saskia Sassen: I would distinguish twoissues. One is that historically, liberalismis deeply grounded in a particular combi-nation of circumstances. Most importantis the struggle by merchants and manu-facturers to gain liberties vis-à-vis theCrown and the aristocracy, and the use ofthe market as the institutional setting thatboth gave force and legitimacy to thatclaim. Seen this way, why should liberal-ism not have decayed? What rescued lib-eralism was Keynesianism, the extensionof a socially empowering project to thewhole of society. This is the crisis today:Keynesianism has been attacked by newtypes of actors, including segments of thepolitical elite. What is happening today ison the one hand a decay (objectivelyspeaking) of liberalism even as an ideol-ogy – being replaced with neoliberalism,attacks on the welfare state, etc – and, on

Denationalized States and Global Assemblages

Magnus Wennerhag in dialogue with Saskia Sassen

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larly. This does not mean that the aspira-tion of democratic participatory politicalsystems is going under. On the contrary.But its historical liberal form is stressed.Perhaps the real question is whether thestate in countries such as the US is liber-al, or ever was liberal. It may have imple-mented liberal policies, and the legisla-ture at various times did embed liberalnorms in the state apparatus. But thesedid not always last. Today we are wit-nessing yet another set of breakdowns.As for the issues around immigration youmention, they are also happening in theUS, where there was even a proposal tomake undocumented immigration into acriminal act and status. This is new.

MW: Around the turn of the last century,the discovery of the "social question"(and the rise of the workers' movement)transformed politics in a profound way. Itchanged the liberal notion of "citizen-ship", which became more inclusive,making space for previously excludedsocial classes and political subjectivities.New models for mediating social conflictsvia the state were created. From this per-spective, how can the handling of today's"social question" – the groups that aremarginal or excluded in today's econom-ic circuits and the political subjectivitiesthat this gives birth to – be interpreted?

SS: This is a critical arena. It is an issuewhich illuminates like few others thedecaying capacity of the liberal state tohandle the social question – given thetype of liberalism that has evolved overthe last twenty to thirty years and the con-text within which today's liberal stateoperates.

In my new book, I argue that the formal

political system accommodates less andless of the political today. Hence informalforms and spaces of the political becomeincreasingly important today. Most famil-iar is probably the whole range of streetpolitics. You can demonstrate againstpolice brutality even if you are an undoc-umented immigrant or a tourist visiting afriend. I am particularly interested in howcultural events can become political atparticular times and places. Thus the cir-cus (street circus) has become a politicalform today, as have parades such as theAfro-Caribbean parades in London andNew York, or the gay parades in a grow-ing number of cities around the world.When the Madres de la Plaza de Mayostood in front of the houses of power inBuenos Aires during the dictatorshipprotesting the disappearance of theirsons and daughters, they were there asmothers, not as formal citizens. And inthat sense they were informal politicalactors, because the legal persona of the"mother" is private, not that of a politicalactor. I think it was precisely their beingthere as mothers that protected them,because as citizens they would havebeen violating the contract between thecitizen and the state, and they wouldprobably have been jailed.

Important to my analysis are two otherpoints. One is the role of space. Thereare kinds of spaces that are particularlyenabling, and I think large messy cities,especially global cities, are such spaces.

Secondly, I argue that today the multina-tional corporation, which is a private legalpersona, also functions as an informalpolitical actor at a time when the globaliz-ing of the economy requires that nationalstates change some of their key laws and

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regulations so that there is a global spacefor the operations of these firms. Theyhave and continue to put a lot of pressureon governments to do what they wantdone. Yes, they are informal politicalactors. I should say, on a more theoreti-cal note, that this points to something thathas long been critical in my work: themultivalence of many of the emergentsocial forms – these new social formscan incorporate what we might call thegood and the bad guys.

MW: You mention some of the subjectivi-ties at work today in what you interpret asnew political spaces. Do we also have toinvent new forms of rights that includethose on the outside?

SS: This brings up a critical dynamic, butone that is elusive and often obscured bythe hatreds and passions of a period.Some of the best social and civic rightswe have achieved in Western societieshave come out of the struggles for andagainst inclusion of the disadvantaged,or the discriminated, or the outsiders.The struggles by women for the vote arean example, as are the struggles of anyminoritized citizen – black in the US, forinstance. So were the struggles bymedieval merchants who fought for theright to protect their property from theabuses of the king, nobility, and Church.When you look at the history of immigra-tion in western Europe (much more sothan in the US), you can see how thestruggles to include the outsider thick-ened the civic fabric. In the Europeancontext, where the civic matters, includ-ing the outsider has always been a bigdeal. In contrast, in the US with its lais-sez-faire stance, the notion was more:You want to come in? Fine. But you are

on your own. This is clearly a simplifica-tion, given the racisms that have prolifer-ated in the US, starting with the racializ-ing of the Irish. But in Europe, includingthe outsider has meant access to publichealth and other public services, a rea-sonable sense of integration. This is, ofcourse, also an exaggeration, but stillthat is the orientation. The outcome wasthat European countries had to inventnew administrative instruments and oftennew legal statutes to handle these mat-ters. But this was to the benefit of all, asit strengthened the right to public goods.We have not had this type of develop-ment in the US. This was clearly a com-plex history, but I think these contrastingalignments are present in the trajectoriesof the US and western Europe.

This was hard work. In my work I empha-size that these types of struggles forinclusion and for the production of newadministrative instruments and new typesof rights by law took work, took making.Today we seem to have a consumer atti-tude to these difficult times, such astoday's anti-immigrant politics. If there isno ready-made solution lying on a shelf,there must be no solution. We have lostthe historical sense of "making".

This political work was often the work ofminorities in their struggles for recogni-tion and inclusion. But it typically involvedsome dedicated groups, politicians,activists of a country's majorities whobelieved in the need for including ratherthan excluding. Again, some of our bestrights have come out of this history ofstruggles by the disadvantaged andthose holding political ideals that madethem marginal, no matter how much apart of the dominant society they may

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have been. I like to emphasize that thesestruggles contained the work of makingrights – in fact, often making new rights.This was not only about asking for inclu-sion under existing rights or asking for abigger share of the government's pie.Including the outsider meant "makingnew" rights, especially civic and social.This is a long history in what was largelya Europe of cities.

Today the landscape is confusing – con-fusing in the sense that it does not makevisible all the elements, and in thatsense, hermetic. We need to detect whatstruggles and debates today signal thepossibility of the making of new rights.Here I do find that the question of immi-gration, but also that of racialized citi-zens, of gays and lesbians and queers, ofpolitical dissenters at a time of exception-al powers granted to states – really theexecutive branch of states – are the onesthat can materialize the making of newrights.

MW: The idea of the private sphere – thehome as well as the market – has for longbeen the target of criticism, from progres-sive theorists as well as social move-ments, for veiling and legitimizing asym-metries of power and injustices. Are wetoday, because of the more frequent vio-lations of personal integrity (surveillance,"moral politics", etc), confronting a situa-tion where a different private sphere mustbe constructed, rather than continuingthe criticism of the public-private divide?Or do you see new possibilities comingout of the withering away of old dividinglines between the private and the public?

SS: This is a complex issue and one Ispent quite a bit of time teasing out in the

book. Yes, the division as historically con-structed is under stress. And it is not justbecause of surveillance technologies andthe erosion of privacy rights. Nor can thecurrent change be explained by the factthat the personal is political and the sitefor multiple asymmetries. All of these crit-ical aspects are part of the picture, but inone way or another they have been therefor a long time.

What is different, or specific to the cur-rent transformation? At the deepest level,I argue, it has to do with a changing logicorganizing the division of private/public.In its historical origins, this division was aworking division: there were specific aimshaving to do with allowing the expansionof markets, contesting absolutist powersof the Crown, and so on.

My question is: what is the logic thatunderlies today's changes. It is impossi-ble to do justice to the subject, but hereare some elements of my answer. First,the privatizing of executive power bringswith it a fundamental inversion of thestate/citizen (public/private) relationship.The executive is less and less account-able and citizens' privacy rights areincreasingly perforated. Secondly, theseperforated privacy rights are but oneinstance of deteriorating rights for citi-zens (the most familiar being deteriorat-ing social rights).

Third, a great strengthening of the mar-ket sphere, but with an ironic twist: agreater autonomy that allows powerfuleconomic actors, notably global firms, toact as informal political agents. This thenmoves into my analysis about the dena-tionalizing, partial and specialized, thatthese firms can bring about in the policies

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of nation-states – they get reoriented,away from historically defined nationalaims towards denationalized global aims.And the latter holds particularly for theexecutive branch. There are severalother issues that I develop, including thegrowing use of economic corporate law inshaping market dynamics. Markets arenot natural conditions; they are createdinstitutions. And today they are beingmade in particular ways.

MW: What are the implications of a morewidespread use of private "legal" tech-niques, private institutions (private arbi-tration courts, etc), and private creation ofnorms, – in general, an increase in thepower of private institutions – seen fromthe perspective of fundamental liberal-democratic values and regarding thepossibilities for democratic governance?

SS: Two outcomes. One is that the cen-tripetal power at the heart of the historicproject of the nation-state begins to dis-assemble, partly. The centre no longerholds the way it used to – though this wasnever absolute, always imperfect, andwith much leakage. The result has beena decay in the normative framings, bal-ances between power and vulnerability,and other good features of liberal democ-racy. So we may still have the systems,the institutions, of that democracy butthey mean less and less. Thus in the USwe still vote, but it means less. First wehad the rapidly falling rates of participa-tion in voting, now down to well under halfof the voting population. And the BushAdministration brought with it yet anotherphase of decay: a contested election thathad to be decided by fiat by the SupremeCourt. It also revealed that the votingmachines of poor black areas were so

defective that many of their votes werenot counted, including in past elections.

In my reading, the internal transforma-tion of the state apparatus – growing dis-tance and asymmetry between the powerof the executive/prime minister and hol-lowing out of legislatures/parliaments – isone indication of this institutional decayof "liberal democracies". Again, the US isan extreme case of this decay. You inSweden have working institutions, as domany of the European countries. Thechange in the public-private division that Ispoke of earlier is another indication ofinstitutional decay in liberal democracy.

In the case of the systems you mentionin your question, systems predicated onprivatizing "legal" processes, this comesdown to an explosion deep inside theinstitutions of liberal democracy – a kindof subterranean explosion of which weare only seeing the most superficialreverberations, and most people barelyrecognize them. I go on and on about thisin the new book – it is difficult to addressin a few words precisely because it ismade up of many (I counted over a hun-dred) small, specialized, often invisibleexcept if you are part of them, legal sys-tems that function in various ways atleast partly outside the framing of thenational state. These are mostly very par-tial rather than holistic and mostly privatesystems of justice and private systems ofauthority.

In my research for the new book, I founddozens of such private systems.

To this we should probably add the newkinds of supranational and global sys-tems that begin to eat away at the central

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cism of the global justice movement, ofinstitutions like the WTO and the IMF,and its demands for more transparencyand a democratization of global institu-tions, can play a positive role in this?

SS: Yes, definitely. I think one critical ele-ment is the notion of repossessing thestate apparatus for genuine liberaldemocracy. The liberal state has beenhijacked for neoliberal agendas, andeven new types of very modern despo-tisms. By this I mean despotisms that areless heavy-handed, more intermediatedthrough propaganda machineries, etc.

My preferred version is a denationalizedstate. I am not keen on nationalisms.

Another critical element is the notion Italked about earlier: that the formal politi-cal apparatus accommodates less andless of the political and hence the grow-ing importance of informal political actorsand political struggles. I see a lot of thisemerging.

Besides what I said earlier, these politicsalso include a sort of denationalizing ofthe claim to the right to have rights. And,at the other end, a politics of the rights tothe city, which makes politics concreteand democratic, and also has the effectof denationalizing politics – this is notabout exclusive allegiance to the state,this is about a denationalized politics.

MW: The title of your new book indicatesthat the concept of "assemblages" is cen-tral to your analysis. What role does thisconcept have for the description of thehierarchies of power in today's world?And how does it relate to your earlierresearch on the global city?

SS: A key yet much overlooked feature ofthe current period is the multiplication ofa broad range of partial, often highly spe-cialized, cross-border systems for gov-erning a variety of processes both insideand across nation-states. These systemsinclude at one end of the spectrum pri-vate systems such as the lex constructio-nis – a private "law" developed by themajor engineering companies in theworld to establish a common mode ofdealing with the strengthening of environ-mental standards in the countries wherethey are building. At the other end of thespectrum, they include the first ever glob-al public court, the International CriminalCourt, which is not part of the suprana-tional system and has universal jurisdic-tion among signatory countries. Beyondthe diversity of these systems, there isthe increasingly weighty fact of their num-bers – over 125 according to the bestrecent count. The proliferation of thesesystems does not represent the end ofnational states, but they do begin to dis-assemble bits and pieces of the national.

Emphasizing this multiplication of partialsystems contrasts with much of the glob-alization literature that has focused onwhat are at best bridging events, such asthe reinvented IMF or the creation of theWTO. Rather than the transformationitself. The actual dynamics being shapedare far deeper and more radical thansuch entities as the WTO or the IMF, nomatter how powerful they are as foot sol-diers. These institutions should rather beconceived of as having powerful capabil-ities in the making of a new order – theyare instruments, not the new order itself.Similarly, the Bretton Woods system wasa powerful instrument that facilitated

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authority and the centripetal forces thatmarked the nation-state, the project ofthe nation-state. In this new landscape Iinclude informal global systems, that is,systems not running through the inter-state or supranational institutional world.Among these are, for example, the vari-ous global networks of activists (on theenvironment, social justice, human rights,etc). I also include the emergence of sub-jectivities that are not encased by thenational – they overflow the national.Some of this is actually very positive, asit denationalizes the national. In otherwords, these global systems include neg-ative and positive networks from my per-spective.

But this also begins to eat away at someof the foundational architecture of liberalparticipatory democracies. Clearly thesetrends are far more developed in somecountries than in others.

MW: Sovereign authority can be seen asstate sovereignty, but also as popularsovereignty – the collective self-realiza-tion of the people, in contrast to mere ter-ritorial control. Is there any difference inhow "de-nationalization" exerts an influ-ence on these different kinds of sover-eignty?

SS: There is a revolutionary clause in allthe new constitutions framed in the1990s – Argentina, Brazil, Uruguay,South Africa, the central European coun-tries, and some others. It has gotten verylittle attention, which surprises me. It saysthat the sovereign (the state, in the lan-guage of international law) even if demo-cratically elected cannot presume to bethe exclusive representative of its peoplein international fora. What lies behind this

is the claim making (back to my informalpolitics) by a variety of groups that do notwant to be merged into some sort of col-lective identity represented by the state.We can think of first-nation peoples,minoritized citizens of all sorts, new typesof feminisms that are transnational, polit-ical dissenters, and probably all kinds ofother actors now in the making, as wespeak.

This clause is revolutionary in that itgoes beyond, indeed, contests, the majorachievement of the French and Americanrevolutions, which was to posit that thepeople are the sovereign and the sover-eign is the people. The achievement ofthese earlier revolutions was to eliminatethe distance between the people and aputatively divine sovereign (state).

This signals for me the beginning of areconstituting of sovereignty.

With the notion of denationalization I tryto capture and make visible a mix ofdynamics that is also altering sovereigntybut is doing so from the inside out, and onthe ground, so to speak – the multiplemicro-processes that are reorienting thehistoric national project towards the newglobal project. National state policies maystill be couched in the language of thenational, but at least some of them nolonger are: they are now orientedtowards building global systems insidethe national state. From there, then, theterm denationalization.

MW: Is it possible to discern any counter-powers on the global level, working to re-institute the fundamental principles of theliberal-democratic (nation) state on aglobal level? Do you think that the criti-

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national capital. Strictly speaking, there isno legal persona for the global firm. Butthere is a global space for their opera-tions, a global space that is the result ofstates denationalizing bits and pieces oftheir national systems – it took a lot ofwork by over a hundred states to do this.The human rights regime offers anothertype of example. When a judge or a plain-tiff uses human rights in a national courtfor a national court case, it partly, and invery specialized ways, denationalizes anational law system.

By the way, this, again, points to the mul-tivalence of many of the key categories Ihave developed to do my type ofresearch. The denationalizing that hap-pens through the demands of global firmsis not so good, whereas the denationaliz-ing that happens through the use ofhuman rights in national courts is veryinteresting, and mostly positive.

These are just two examples of how Iwork. It is, thus, quite different from justfocusing on the global per se. Focusingon the global firm or the human rightsregime as global entities is critical. But itneeds to be distinguished from the mak-ing of that possibility. I am interested inthe making. I think this approach also hasconsequences for politics: we can per-form global politics through national stateinstitutions – and in so doing, will, ofcourse, partly denationalize our state,which is fine with me as it begins to builda multi-sited infrastructure for global poli-tics – a global politics that runs throughlocalized sites rather than a world state.

This interview was first published inFronesis.

Notes1.Saskia Sassen, Territory, authority,rights: From medieval to global assem-blages, Princeton University Press, 2006.

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some of the new global formations thatemerged in the 1980s but was not itselfthe beginning of the new order as is oftenasserted.

These cross-border systems amount toparticularized assemblages of bits of ter-ritory, authority, and rights that used to bepart of more diffuse institutional domainswithin the nation-state or, at times, thesupranational system. I see in this prolif-eration of specialized assemblages atendency toward a mixing of constitutiverules once solidly lodged in the nation-state project. These novel assemblagesare partial and often highly specialized,centered in particular utilities and purpos-es. Their emergence and proliferationbring several significant consequenceseven though this is a partial, not an all-encompassing development. They arepotentially profoundly unsettling for whatare still the prevalent institutionalarrangements – nation-states and thesupranational system. They promote amultiplication of diverse spatio-temporalframings and diverse normative orderswhere once the dominant logic wastoward producing unitary national spatial,temporal, and normative framings.

This proliferation of specialized ordersextends even inside the state apparatus.I argue that we can no longer speak of"the" state, and hence of "the" nationalstate versus "the" global order. We see anovel type of segmentation inside thestate apparatus, with a growing andincreasingly privatized executive branchof government aligned with specific glob-al actors, notwithstanding nationalistspeeches, and we see a hollowing out oflegislatures which increasingly becomeconfined to fewer and more domestic

matters. This realignment weakens thecapacity of citizens to demand accounta-bility from the executive and it partlyerodes the privacy rights of citizens – ahistoric shift of the private-public divisionat the heart of the liberal state, albeitalways an imperfect division.

MW: Lately, several "grand narratives" ofglobalization have been formulated bytheorists such as Manuel Castells,Michael Hardt, and Antonio Negri. Inwhat ways does your own theory resem-ble, or differ from, these?

SS: I share much with them, and I knowthem all. There is much political trustamong us. But since you ask about pos-sible theoretical differences, let meanswer. One way of starting is to say thattheir effort has been to map the emergentglobal. And I agree with what they seeand the importance they give to this glob-al. But that is not what I am doing.

Very briefly, my struggle over the lasttwenty years has been to go beyond theself-evident global scale, and detect theglobal at sub-national levels. From therecomes my concept of the global city, forinstance. One way of putting it is that Ilike to go digging in the penumbra ofmaster categories. The global hasbecome a master category, and is soblindingly clear that it puts a lot of places,actors, and dynamics in a deep shadow.My current work on the denationalizedstate – no matter how intense the rena-tionalizing also is – is yet anotherinstance of the global that is not self-evi-dently global. I am interested in the waysin which the global might be endogenousto the national. For example, much glob-al capital is actually denationalized

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tographs of their feats on their cell phones,they dream to once be on the news. Theirrebellion is a form of negative integration,an initiatic ritual in which the fight againstthe RSC takes the place of an impossibleadolescent revolt against an absent ornon-existent father. France has humiliatedtheir parents and now it is ignoring themand their extreme behaviour can be seenas a cry caused by a deceptive love. It isa way of saying:”We are here. We exist.”

The fact remains that this rabies is show-ing a strong allergy to the proletary cultureespecially when the young rebels (someno older than 12 or 13) attack bus driver,train conductors, subway conductors,destroying collective facilities, terrorizingthe simple people and the clerks that livein the same building they do, who watchtheir only work tool being shred to pieces.To set automobiles on fire does not meanto strike a mythology that is dear to thehearts of the French. It means to isolate aplace, to force the inhabitants to not go outwith their HLM. It means to deny mobility.(However, in a strange act of shiness,theydon’t burn the cars of the rich neighbour-hoods, as if the ones who started the con-flict had already taken in its exclusion).Just as the “Stop la Violence” group hademphasized, driven by the Socialist Party,in 1998: “Pariahs means the death of theneighborhoods”. It is the exploitation ofthese apartment building neighborhoodsby the dealers and the caids who do “busi-ness” and thus animate an entire under-ground economy ( which a college maga-zine estimated to control almost 90 billioneuros every year).The rage becomesdoubtful when an excited group withInquisition-like hoods, burn public trans-portation, steal and brutally kill high-school and college students during theirmanifestations. They hit the weak, women

or senior retired citizens, they shoot realbullets at the firemen or the policemenwithout showing remorse. They coverthemselves in a so-called angelic sense ofrebellion. For the wildest ones killing isonly a game. The death inflicted on anoth-er or that which they have to face them-selves is merely an accident. If there were,in France, a great fascist party, the assaultdivision would be recruited amongst the“black-alb-beur” youngsters. It’s not a sur-prise that the violence of this “caillera”, asthe gangs call themselves, fascinates themedia, showbusiness and even left wingintellectuals. Through their brutality andtheir afilliation to the street gang system ,this Lumpen, “these sweepings of corrupt-ed individuals of all classes” as Engleswas saying in 1870, that is exploiting andcontroling the imigrant population, isseducing the sociologists, the actors, thejournalists. It should be mentioned thatHannah Arendt said referring to the risingof Nazism: “High class society is falling inlove with its worthlessness”. That is thecase of the suburbs. They are not anunknown part of the republic but the mag-nifying mirror of French passions, a natu-ral reserve of talent and energy but also ofpotential barbarity (rasism, antisemitism,machism, and homofobia), the placewhere all the worse instincts of the mass-es gather. In order to solve this situation,money has to be combined with intransi-gence and generosity. We must stifle thesavages, we must show that we are willingto be brotherly towards the others and thatwe want to tear them from this cycle of fail-ure and violence. Otherwise, most of themwill become a lost generation, inevitablyoscillating between prisons, organizedcrime groups and Islamists.

Translated from Romanian version, pub-lished by Editura Trei, by Codruta Pohrib.

The suburbs of Western Europe are usu-ally linked to two major stories: that of theworking classes and that of the decolo-nization. It would have been preferable ifthe aliance between the insurrection of theworkers and the antiimperialistic fightwould have been more obvious. However,the participants in the rebellions from theapartment building neighbourhoods inFrance 2005, as disinhereted as they maybe, are nonetheless the children of televi-sion and of supermarkets. What do theydemand? In the words of one of them: “Dough and chicks”. Not the proletary rev-olution or the erradication of poverty butthe simple realisation of the comercialdream. Born franch, they now want tobecome French, but they are stopped byan invisible glass door on the other side ofwhich they see their compatriots succeed-ing, working, having fun without invitingthem to the party. The color of their skinand furthermore, their social origin andtheir addresses, are impossible frontiersto pass. Not schooled properly, without awork place, harrassed by the authorities,wanting everything immediatly just like weall do in this individualistic society, theyhave nothing to lose. They did not initiateany projects. They simply want to taketheir hatred out on the police, to burndown nurseries, supermarkets, schools,social security centers, libraries, in a suici-dal path meant to cut them off even morefrom the rest of society. They rival othervandal gangs. They contemplate the pho-

A Portrait of the Rebel ConsumerOpressed by Life

by Pascal Bruckner

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WHAT WAS SOCIALISM, AND WHAT COMES NEXT?

Synthesis: Retro-Avant Garde or MappingPost-Socialism

One always searches for some symbol-ic point from which one can claim thatsomething ended and something elsebegan, even though there are no begin-nings and no endings. From a WesternEuropean or an American point of viewthe tearing down of the Berlin Wallsymbolically marked the changes thataffected Eastern Europe. From an ex-Yugoslavian perspective this pointwould be the death of Tito in 1980. SolYurick asked himself, how will we beable to denote this developing, but asyet un-completed, New World Order?He called this world post-industrialist,post-modern, post-nationalist, post-neo-colonial, post-structural, porous-bordered, cannibalistic, post-material-ist, and hyper-polluted and so on adinfinitum.1

I will call it ‘post-Socialism’. To whatother possible symbolic, social, artisticor political space can we refer, if wewant to talk about art and culture in theterritory of ex-Yugoslavia andCentral/Eastern Europe? I will use theterm ‘post-Socialism’ in order to decon-struct the modern myth of a globalworld, a world without cultural, social orpolitical specificity, a world without cen-tres and peripheries. What strategyother than a post-Marxist model can weuse for (de) coding the topic of post-

by Marina Grzinicˇ ´

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effect of concealing the truth of thesociety that produces it, and for which itcan still have a revelatory power. It isthrough modes of display that regimesof all sorts reveal the truths they meanto conceal. Each historic period,according to Wollen, has its own rhetor-ical mode of display, because each hasdifferent truths to conceal.4

All three artists, groups or art projectsutilised specific strategies of visual dis-play techniques to portray aspects ofSocialist and post-Socialist ideology. Iwill focus my discussion on the mannerand ideologies that were envisionedand presented as a changing system,through the different rhetorical styles ofpresentation in the territory of ex-Yugoslavia and, more widely, in theso-called countries of ‘real Socialism’.This is also the best way to grasp thepost-Socialist system itself. In otherwords we might ask to which socialbodies the 80-s Malevich, the IRWIN-NSK Embassy and Stilinovic belong?The essence of the presentation of thistriad represents a journey from frontierto frontier – a journey by which theinexorable presence of artefacts mate-rializes the dialectical, cultural, politicaland, above all, artistic environment thatis coded as Eastern Europe, stigma-tised as the Balkans, and traumatisedas the former Yugoslavia.

To recap, my primary thesis is thatpost-Socialism can best be graspedthrough the analysis of the modes ofdisplaying the ideology of the Socialistand post-Socialist systems. At thispoint I would like to add a subtitle tothis paper essay that is a rhetoricalplay on Susan Buck-Morss’ essay

“Envisioning Capital: Political Economyon Display.”5 The subtitle of my paperwill be “Envisioning Post-Socialism:Ideology on Display.”

In the 1990s Peter Weibel launched adiscursive matrix in an exhibition cata-logue of the Steierische Herbst festival6

in which he coded the ex-Yugoslav ter-ritory from ‘outside,’ subsuming theproductions of Stilinovic, the 80sMalevich and IRWIN under a commonsignifier – the ‘Retro-Avantgarde.’ Thismatrix was repeated by the trio them-selves in an exhibition entitled”Retroavangarda” in Ljubljana in 1994.While in the past I had reflected on theirwork individually, this exhibition gaveme the opportunity to develop a kind ofdialectical loop between the projects. Ideveloped a dialectical interrelation-ship within which I designated theirpositions as those in a Hegelian triad:Mladen Stilinovic as the thesis;Malevich and the projects of copying asan antithesis; and IRWIN, with the proj-ects of the NSK EMBASSIES (present-ed in the framework of the NSK STATEIN TIME), as synthesis. Although I con-cluded that these specific artistic pro-ductions took the place of the(retro)avant-garde movement, I neverfully succeeded in answering the ques-tion concerning the exact key referen-tial moment that put all three of themtogether as a movement and allowedus to think about them dialectically.The answer here and now is – ideolo-gy! Ideology is the generative matrix ofthese specific post-Socialist art proj-ects.7

What lies at stake here could also beformulated as the problem of the status

Socialism? Here I will refer to FredericJameson’s basic text about post-mod-ernism “The Cultural Logic of LateCapitalism” (1984) in which he pro-posed an aesthetic of cognitive map-ping. For Jameson, a cognitive map isnot exactly mimetic in the older sense;rather, the theoretical issues it posesallow us to renew the analysis of repre-sentation at a higher and much morecomplex level. What is a cognitive mapcalled upon to do? It allows one to cre-ate a situational representation for theindividual subject of that vaster andlogically unrepresentable totality whichis the ensemble of society’s structuresas a whole. An aesthetic of cognitivemapping will necessarily have torespect this enormously complex repre-sentational dialectic and invent radical-ly new forms in order to do theory jus-tice.2

This is one possible way of understand-ing the notion of ‘mapping’ post-Socialism. How do we, however, under-stand post-Socialism itself as it seemsto have been for most of theEastern/Central Europeans the basiccultural, social and political condition?We must not understand it as a newmode of production. Since nobodyseriously considers alternatives to cap-italism any longer, it seems easier toimagine the ‘end of the world’ than a farmore modest change in the mode ofproduction. It is as if liberal capitalismis ‘the real’ that will somehow survive.3

I will develop the idea of post-Socialismin this essay as a generative matrixthat regulates the relationship betweenthe visible and nonvisible, between theimaginable and non-imaginable. This isan act of mapping that charts not the

point at which differences manifestthemselves, but the point on the post-Socialist map where the effects ofthese differences are represented.

I will try to pinpoint the coordinates ofthis generative matrix in the territoryonce known as Yugoslavia and, morespecifically, in Slovenia, through theprojects of three artists or groups:Mladen Stilinovic, Kasimir Malevichand, last but not least, the groupIRWIN, especially their NEUESLOWENISCHE KUNST (NSK)Embassy projects. With regard toMalevich, I will focus not on the ‘origi-nal’ one, but on the 1980s artist fromBelgrade and Ljubljana, and on someother projects of copying and recon-structing works of art from this centu-ry’s avant-garde and neo-avant-gardemovements realized in Yugoslavia inthe 1980s.

I propose that we reread the term post-Socialism in ex-Yugoslavia through dif-ferent visual displays. Why? A visualdisplay is related to exhibitionismrather than scopophilia. As PeterWollen noted, Jacques Lacan demon-strated, in his notorious seminar onEdgar Allan Poe’s “The PurloinedLetter,” how a display might be thebest method of concealment. Whereasin “The Purloined Letter” the policechief overlooks and misses the incrimi-nating letter (the signifier on display),the uncanny Dupin (the figure of theLacanian psychoanalyst himself)immediately sees the signifier dis-played in full view, just as it desired.This demonstrates (despite GuyDebord’s contestation) that in moderntimes an excess of display has the

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posit the gaze as a menace nor as anatural fact, but rather showed that this‘menace was a social product deter-mined by power.’ The result of theNSK’s concepts, strategies and tacticsin the 1980s was therefore a specificprocess of denaturalising the previous-ly ‘naturalized’ Socialist cultural valuesand rituals. However, there was some-thing more. Through their entire con-ceptual strategy the NSK laid the foun-dations for a different mode of poli-tics(!), and further, for a different ‘poli-tics of the gaze.’ It was only throughthe totality of their concepts and thecomplexity of their productions andpresentation that the NSK managed towin a place in the social and culturalreality, which was completely dominat-ed (if not totalised) by the political dis-course.

Let me explain exactly what I mean byideology. As, Slavoj Zizek pointed out,ideology has nothing to do with illusionnor with a mistaken and distorted rep-resentation. Ideology is not simply afalse consciousness, an illusory repre-sentation of reality, but is being itself,insofar as it is supported by false con-sciousness. An ideology is thus notnecessarily false, since what reallymatters is not the asserted content assuch but the way this content relates tothe subjective position implied by itsown process of enunciation.12 We arewithin ideological space in an inherent-ly nontransparent way: the very logic oflegitimising the relation of dominationmust remain concealed if it is to beeffective. The outstanding mode of thislies in the guise of truth that is todayknown as cynicism: ‘They know verywell what they are doing, yet they are

doing it’, instead of the classicalMarxist formula ‘They do not know it,but they are doing it.’ 13

In the introduction to Mapping Ideology,a book Zizek edited in 1994, he notonly tried to present, through his owntexts and texts by other philosophers,the importance of the notion of ideologytoday, but he also proposed to read“the logico-narrative reconstruction ofthe notion of ideology”14 as a Hegeliantriad of Ideology In-itself, For-itself andIn-and -For-itself. In what follows I willjuxtapose the Retro-Avant-garde triadwith Zizek’s Hegelian scheme. To per-ceive the work of the triad coined as‘Retro-Avant garde’ we do not have toleave the dialectical Hegelian-Marxiststructure but, instead, to double it.Instead of directly evaluating the ade-quacy or the ‘truth’ of different notionsof ideology, one should read the pro-posed reversals of ideology (ideologyin- itself, ideology for-itself, and ideolo-gy in-and- for itself) as indices of thedifferent concrete historical situationsof post-Socialism.

1. Let us begin with Zizek, who wrote:“First we have ideology ‘in-itself’: thisrepresents the imminent notion of ide-ology as a doctrine, a composite ofideas, beliefs, concepts, and so on,destined to convince us of its ‘truth’, yetactually unavowedly serving particularpower interests.”15 When transposed tothe ex-Yugoslavian context of the1980s, ideology ‘in-itself’ can be rec-ognized in the ideas, beliefs and polit-ical slogans of the ideology of self-management, an ideology presentedas specifically Yugoslav and as a newmode of Socialism in the world. Let

of the word ‘and’ as a category.According to Zizek, in LouisAlthusser’s theory of ideology the word‘and’ functions as a precise theoreticalcategory. Zizek argues that when ‘and’appears in the title of some of hisessays this little word unmistakably sig-nals the confrontation of some ambigu-ous notion with its specification con-tained in what is coming after the ‘and’.What is coming after ‘and’ tells us howwe are to render concrete the initialnotion so that it begins to function asnon-ideological and as a strictly theo-retical concept.8 So I can say thatStilinovic, Malevich, IRWIN and ideolo-gy enable us to unmistakably denotethe hidden mechanism, which regu-lates social visibility and nonvisibility,and which generates these specificconcepts.

Let me just recall some of the connota-tions surrounding the functioning ofNEUE SLOWENISCHE KUNST (NSK) 9

and Laibach in the 1980s and 1990s.The NSK proclaims itself to be anabstract social body situated in a veryreal socio-political space, which simul-taneously represents a Western and anEastern phenomenon. Its structure andorganization resemble a capitalistdemonic machine, a corporate system,which, nevertheless, cannot be foundin the Western art world (for there suchan organization is possible only iflinked to real financial capital). Thanksto its Socialist heritage, NSK was ableto appear on purely ideological founda-tions.

In the 1980’s the strategies of repre-sentation and presentation deployed bythe NSK collective were often equated

with totalitarianism. Their art was con-sidered to be a menace to the existingsocial order. Laibach appeared in thecontext of the Slovenian/ex-Yugoslavian punk movement, but nev-ertheless the group was immediatelyconnected with ‘Nazism’ because of thespecific artistic actions members hadcarried out from the very beginning.10

The position of other members of theNSK movement towards ‘Nazism’ wasdifferent. IRWIN, for example, devel-oped more subtle attitudes to this topicin the 1980s. One of their earlierworks/ installations “The FourSeasons”(1988) depicted four monu-mental female portraits in the portrai-ture tradition of the Nazi period. Ibelieve we cannot base our criticismpurely on such facts. The importance of“The Four Seasons” has to be recog-nized through the deconstructive andalmost subversive act of this recyclingmethod. This does not impose a glorifi-cation but a distortion. In “The FourSeasons” IRWIN displays the innerstructure of the (deeply rationalized)system of the perceptual codes thatdirected the mode of representation (ofwomen) during the Nazi period. In sucha way the invisible logic that structuredthe portraits of the period is made vis-ible to the spectator. However, by defin-ing the NSK’s activity as a point of‘potential terror and destruction’ thestate merely re-enforced the opinionthat, in fact, ‘terror and destruction’resided in its own core. The activities ofthe NSK in the 1980s sought to ques-tion the very mechanisms that compelus to think, as Norman Bryson puts it,“of a terror intrinsic to sight, whichmakes it harder to think what makessight terroristic.”11 The NSK did not

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me just recall some of the political slo-gans which appeared as newspaperheadlines at that time: ‘order, work andresponsibility,’ ‘more work less talk,’and so forth.

Mladen Stilinovic16 began his artisticcareer in the 1970s with detailed lin-guistic research, and assumed throughhis own critical reading of ideology thecritical position of ‘ideology in-itself.’ In1977, the artist wrote the following textin red on pink silk: “An Attack On My ArtIs An Attack on Socialism AndProgress.” In his earliest work,Stilinovic explored the relationshipbetween the visual sign and colloquialspeech by decoding verbal and visualclichés and trying to detach languagefrom every day political ideas andimposed connotations.17 As the artistclaimed, “If language is the property ofideology, I too want to become theowner of such language; I want to thinkin it with its consequences.”18 Stilinovicfurther developed his research throughthe exploitation of dead visual codes.This project took several years to com-plete and involved recycling the visualand ideological sign systems ofConstructivism, Russian Suprematism,and Socialist Realism, as well as thered and the black colours, the star andthe cross.

At first sight Stilinovic’s project seemsto be marked by semantic transparen-cy. It seems that Stilinovic is sub-merged in a world of Yugoslav dinarsand cakes - a world which can be rec-ognized without having to have con-ceptual grounding in art. His work is aresult of a meticulously elaboratedpost-Socialist conceptual strategy of

poverty, kitsch and an almost obses-sive tautological radiography ofSocialist and post-Socialist ideology.One of the last projects by Stilinovic,realized in 1994-95, consisted of a tau-tological vivisection of the evolvingposition of post-Socialist art as itbecame a part of the capitalist market.This position is condensed in one ofStilinovic’s pieces written as statementin English: “An Artist Who Can NotSpeak English Is No Artist.”

Stilinovic knows very well that steppingout of (what we experience as) ideolo-gy is the very condition of our enslave-ment to it.19 This position is far from aposition of cynical distance, laughter orirony (the underlying premises in con-temporary society - whether democrat-ic or totalitarian). The greatest dangersfor totalitarianism are people who takeits ideology literally, and for Stilinovicthis literalism has the status of an ethi-cal stance. Avoiding simple metaphorsof demarking and of throwing away theveils that are supposed to hide rawreality, Stilinovic succeeded in develop-ing a changed concept of the critiqueof Socialist and post-Socialist ideology.Stilinovic succeeded in subverting andtwisting totalitarian ideology – merelyby the literal repetition of it. This couldalso be said of Laibach in the 1980s.

With Stilinovic we faced a double rever-sal of the cynical position: it is not moral-ity itself put in the service of immorality,but immorality itself put in the service ofmorality. Stilinovic’s slogan “Work is adisease by K. Marx” is, as BrankaStipancic pointed out, a false quotationby Marx, that Stilinovic uses as an alibifor his “sacrilegious thoughts.”20

2. What follows is the step from ideol-ogy in-itself to ideology for-itself, toideology in its otherness or externalisa-tion. For Zizek this step is articulated inthe process of producing ideology bythe Althusserian notion of theIdeological State Apparatuses (ISA).This passage designates the materialexistence of ideology in ideologicalpractices, rituals and institutions.21 Thekey consequence of Louis Althusser’stheory of the ideological apparatuses ofthe state and, more generally, of thiscoinage in the field of art and culture, isthat he showed how the crucial role ofsuch apparatuses (i.e. through schoolsand the media, etc.) focused on theproduction of entities such as `nationalpainting` and ‘classical art`. Mostimportantly he highlighted the role ofISA’s in creating and maintaining thehierarchy between different artistic andcultural practices and values; in form-ing the so-called institution of art withall its system of values, facts andmethodologies; and in reinforcing theart market as a driven and reproductiveforce.

In the field of post-Socialism this ‘pas-sage’ was both marked and constantlyproduced by the ‘resurrection ofMalevich’ in 1980s Yugoslavia. Hisresurrection was announced in a letter‘authored’ by Kasimir Malevich,Belgrade, Yugoslavia, published in Artin America (September 1986), thatasked: “Why? Why now (again), afterso many years?” The project of theBelgrade Malevich was exhibited inBelgrade and Ljubljana (1985-86) andin a fragmented version again inLjubljana in 1994. It consisted of thereconstruction of Malevich’s ‘original’

“Last Futurist Exhibition 0.10” (held inSt. Petersburg from 17 December 1915to 19 January 1916). This curious artis-tic exploit also included a series ofNeo-Suprematist paintings in whichSuprematist elements were translatedinto petit point or combined with classi-cal relief and sculptures. Here we arewitnesses to an iconodulity that vergeson kitsch. This is not an attempt tocopy the paintings as such, or to create‘forgeries’ on the basis of photographsfrom that period and reproductions ofthe originals, but an attempt to recreatea system that has elaborated the insti-tution of contemporary art as we knowit today.

The step from ideology-in-itself to ide-ology-for-itself is elaborated in post-Socialism also by some other projectsthat took place in 1980s ex-Yugoslavia.These projects were known only to thepublic by their titles and were suppos-edly autographed or carried out byfamous, but already deceased paintersand philosophers. “The InternationalExhibition of Modern Art -ArmoryShow” reconstructed more than 50‘masterpieces’ by famous artists fromthe turn of the century. A lecture, enti-tled “Mondrian ‘63 - ‘96” and given by‘Walter Benjamin’, was held inLjubljana in 1986. These projects elab-orated the so-called tactical position ofthe artist who conceals his identity, thestrategies of postmodern art in general,and the conditions of art specific topost-Socialism. These projects notonly interrogate the distinction betweenthe original and the copy, but build acertain background of referenceagainst which it is possible to articu-late the concepts and models of the

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socialization of vision and the part itplays in the formation of the new sub-jectivity and the changed dialectic ofthe gaze.

We cannot interpret these projects bysimply stating that they play aroundwith the original and its ‘criminal’ nega-tion, the copy, for the simple reasonthat an art market does not yet exist inthe East (and in the 1980s there wasno sign of it). The production of copiesin 1980s Western art was deeply con-nected to the market and the contextof postmodernism. Artists Mike Bidlo,Sherry Levine or Cindy Sherman put aclear signature on the recycled andcopied works that could be easily iden-tified and incorporated in both historyand the market. In the projects of copy-ing from the 1980s in ex-Yugoslavia thereal artist’s signature is missing andeven some of the ‘historical’ facts aredistorted (i.e. dates, places, etc.). Onecould even claim the sanctity of theHistory of Art as such was distorted.While the question of ideological con-sequences may be secondary in thecontext of a capitalist art-market, it isessential to the ex-Socialist societieswhere until now there was no art mar-ket. From my point of view, the produc-tion of copies and reconstruction ofprojects from the avant-garde art peri-od in post-Socialism had a direct effecton Art perceived as ‘Institution’ andagainst ‘History’, which was (and isstill?) completely totalised in post-Socialism.

And what do we get by eliminating thedifferences between the past and thefuture, when everything suddenlybecomes the present and attempts are

made to arrest time in a closed narra-tive form, as is the case with the tempo-ral logic of the copies? In such a case,the meaning-producing machine is inopposition to the (hi)story of rationalscientific progress and linked to pro-gressive politics, on the side of a rather‘a-modern gaze’ (Bruno Latour’sphrase) which abides by the absenceof a beginning, an enlightenment and afinality.

I would like to elaborate on the state-ment that the copies represent a dys-function that could raise crucial ques-tions concerning orders of languageand law. What we call the original isnothing more than the universalisedcopy. The dialectic of the original andthe copy lies therefore not only in thefact that ‘there is no copy without anoriginal,’ etc., but primarily in that theoriginal itself is nothing but the univer-salised copy. For this reason theseprojects do not conceal the differencebetween the original and the copy, butaccentuate a far more tragic feature:nonauthenticity as the most authenticconcept in the art of the 1980s. It ispossible to think of these copying proj-ects as a direct attack against the artdeveloped primarily as ‘Institution’ andempowered with a single and authorita-tive ‘History’. The fact that the lastfoundation of Art’s authority lies in itsprocess of enunciation, also articu-lates the power circle of every authori-ty, especially the totalitarian authority.Through the production of different his-tories, these works elaborate the pointthat what is repressed in Art andSociety is not some obscure origin ofArt (or Law) but the very fact that thelegal and artistic authority is an

authority without truth. If we put it dif-ferently, the original is nothing otherthan the ‘universalised and institution-alised copy.’

3. The next step in our reconceptual-ization of art and culture under theinfluence of post-Socialist ideology iswhen the ideological externalisation is‘reflected into self’: ideology in-and-foritself. What takes place in this thirdstep of the conceptualisation of ideolo-gy is the disintegration, self-limitationand dispersal of the notion of ideology.It seems that the system for the mostpart bypasses ideology in its reproduc-tion and relies on the economic andlegal coercion of the state’s regula-tions. Here, however, as Zizek warnsus, things become blurred again, sincethe moment we take a closer look atthese allegedly extra-ideological mech-anisms that regulate social reproduc-tion we find ourselves in ideology.What we come across here, therefore,is the third reversal of non-ideology intoideology. All of a sudden we becomeaware of a for-itself of ideology at workin the very in-itself of extra-ideologicalactuality.22 This is the form of con-sciousness that fits post-Socialism inthe 1990s and late-capitalist post-ideo-logical society.

In the NSK Embassy projects, IRWINpresented these assumptions in analmost concentrated form. What theydeveloped is not ideology in its materi-al existence (the institutions, rituals andpractices that give body to it) nor anobsession with the Institution of Art,but the “elusive network of implicit,quasi -spontaneous pre-suppositions

and attitudes that form an irreduciblemoment of the reproduction of the socalled non-ideological elements.”23

One of the most attention-grabbingprojects of the NSK movement in the1990s is the “State in Time” project,which is primarily carried out by thegroup IRWIN. It was within the contextof a paradigm of this kind that the NSKEmbassies were realized. The NSKEMBASSY and NSK CONSULATEprojects can be read as specific socialinstallations, which symbolically andartistically simulate the transfer of thephenomenon of NSK into another cul-tural, social and political context. NSKEmbassies were realized in Moscow(1992), Ghent, Belgium (1993) and atthe Berlin Volksbuhne (June 1993).NSK consulates were opened inFlorence, Italy (1993) at the HotelAmbasciatori, and in Umag, Croatia(1994) in the kitchen of the privateapartment of the gallery owner MarinoCettina. The group IRWIN establishedthe NSK Embassy in Moscow in a pri-vate apartment (address: LeninProspect 12, apt. 24) in May and June1992. The facade of this residentialdwelling was embellished with the artis-tically articulated insignia of a stateembassy.

The project took place within the con-text of the internationalisation of one ofthe greatest Eastern European phe-nomena, Apt-Art (Apartment-Art),which was a phenomenon of artisticcreation and exhibition in private apart-ments within the Moscow art under-ground. It enabled artists and theavant-garde to survive before the peri-od of Perestroika and Glasnost in the

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Soviet Union. The Apt-Art project,which began in the 1980s, representedan attempt to search for political, per-sonal and artistic paths that ran parallelto the official institutions and werephysically connected with them, butwere leagues apart politically and cul-turally. The Moscow Apt-Art empha-sized the status of private space andchanged it into a centre of communica-tion through the self-organization ofthose most excluded. The ‘phantasm’that structured artistic life in the formertotalitarian Eastern European countrieswas completely grounded in the privatesphere (in the private apartment -at thekitchen table and surrounded by art-works, so to speak) in the context of thepost-Socialist European paradigmwhich today reviews this phantasm ona completely metaphorical level so thatit forgets to include fear, ‘the fear withwhich we lived.’ The NSK MoscowEMBASSY project represented a newactualisation of the phenomenon of lifeand creation in private apartments dur-ing the era of communist totalitarian-ism. The NSK-EMBASSY MOSCOWproject did not attempt to achieve equi-librium in the opposition between thetotalitarian ideology and the ‘non-ideo-logical’ private, untainted sphere(although it is true that it holds ontosomething of a totalitarian style ofclaustrophobia), but rather tried toactualise both spheres as two sides ofthe same coin (Zizek’s formulation) thatare both going to disappear with post-Socialist democracy.

In his recent book, Spectres de Marx,24

Derrida put into play the term ‘spectre’to indicate the elusive pseudo-material-ity that subverts the classic ontological

oppositions of reality and illusion. Zizekargues that perhaps we should lookhere for the last resort of ideology, forthe formal matrix onto which are graft-ed various ideological formations. “Weshould recognize the fact that there isno reality without the spectre, that thecircle of reality can be closed only bymeans of an uncanny spectral supple-ment. Why, then, is there no realitywithout the spectre?... [Because forLacan] reality is not the ‘thing itself,’[rather] it is always-already symbol-ized..., and the problem resides in thefact that symbolization ultimatelyalways fails, that it never succeeds infully ‘covering’ the real...[This real]returns in the guise of spectral appari-tions. ‘Spectre’ is not to be confusedwith ‘symbolic fiction’... reality is neverdirectly ‘itself,’ it presents itself only viaits incomplete-failed symbolization, andspectral apparitions emerge in this verygap that forever separates reality fromthe real, and on account of which reali-ty has the character of a (symbolic) fic-tion: the spectre gives body to thatwhich escapes (the symbolically struc-tured) reality.”25

In an attempt to emphasize the synthet-ic dialectical moment developed in theNSK State In Time, and in order toarrive at a conclusion, we are com-pelled to ask ourselves how can welabel this spiritual element of corpore-ality (NSK State In Time) and this cor-poreal element of spirituality(embassies in concrete privatespaces)? I propose we conclude:SPECTRES. Allow me to state the fol-lowing: the NSK State In Time is thespectre of the state, NSK Embassiesare the spectres of Embassies.

NOTES

1 Cf. Sol Yurick, “The Emerging MetastateVersus the Politics of Ethno-NationalistIdentity,” in: The Decolonization ofImagination, eds., Jan Nederveen Pieterseand Bhikhu Parekh, Zed Books, Londonand New Jersey, 1995.2 Cf. Fredric Jameson, “The Cultural Logicof Late Capitalism,” in: Jameson,Postmodernism, or, The Cultural Logic ofLate Capitalism, Verso, London and New York, 1991, p. 51.3 Cf. Slavoj Zizek, “Introduction: TheSpectre of Ideology,” in: Mapping Ideology,ed., S. Zizek, Verso, London and New York,1994, p. 1.4 Peter Wollen, “Introduction,” in: VisualDisplay, eds., Lynne Cooke and PeterWollen, Dia 10, Bay Press, Seattle, 1995,pp. 9-10.5 Susan Buck-Morss, “Envisioning Capital:Political Economy on Display,” in:Visual Display, pp. 111-142.6 Cf. catalogue of the exhibition “Identitat:Differenz. Tribune Trigon 1940-1990. EineTopografie der Moderne,” exhibition curat-ed by Peter Weibel, Neue Galerie,Steierische Herbst, 1992. 7 This analysis was for the first time pro-posed by M. Grzinic in 1994, when the exhi-bition Retroavantgarda took place inLjubljana at the gallery Visconti Fine ArtKolizej, Ljubljana, 1994. In a form of apaper and with the title Mapping postmod-ernism it was presented in 1996 at theInternational symposium organized by theSlovenian Society for Aesthetics inLjubljana. In the end of this essay a select-ed overview of the most important publica-tions of this essay is listed. This essayalso took the form of a video art projectwith the title Post-socialism + Retro avantgarde + Irwin, video (Betacam SP Pal,22.00 min., produced by TV Slovenia)directed by M. Grzinic and A. Smid in1997. 8 Cf. Zizek, “Introduction: The Spectre ofIdeology,” pp. 23-24.

9 NEUE SLOWENISCHE KUNST, or NSKfor short, is an art movement (or rather anorganization), established in the early 80sin Slovenia, comprising the music groupLAIBACH, the fine art group IRWIN, the“retrogarde” theatre group SESTER SCIPI-ON NASICE (later re-named as the REDPILOT COSMOKINETIC THEATER, whichtook the name of THE NOORDUNGCOSMOKINETIC THEATERCABINET inthe 1990’s), and the design group NEWCOLLECTIVISM.10 “The group’s first lead singer had to playwith cut lips and a thin stream of blood onhis face for his insistence on a Mussolinipose and his costume (he was wearing apseudo-military uniform) as well as for theinfernal industrial sound,” in: Ales Erjavec,MarinaGrzinic, Ljubljana, Ljubljana,Mladinska knjiga, Ljubljana, 1991, p. 97.11 Cf. Jacques Derrida, Spectres de Marx,Galileé, Paris 1993.12 Cf. Zizek, “Introduction: The Spectre ofIdeology,” in: Mapping Ideology, pp. 26-28.13 Hal Foster, “Preface,” in: Vision andVisuality, ed., Foster, Bay Press, Seattle,1988, p. XII.14 Cf. Zizek, “Introduction: The Spectre ofIdeology,” p. 8.15 Ibid.16 Ibid, p. 10.17 Ibid.18 Mladen Stilinovic is one of the majorartistic figures of contemporary Croatianart. 19 Cf. Branka Stipancic, “Words AndImages,” in: Words and Images, SCCA,Zagreb, 1995, p. 31.20 Ibid..21 Cf. Zizek, “Introduction: The Spectre ofIdeology,” p. 6.22 Cf. Stipancic, “Words And Images”, p.32.23 Cf. Zizek, “Introduction: The Spectre ofIdeology”, p.12.24 Ibid., p. 14.25 Ibid., p. 15.

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played in Paris, Warren Buffett donatesover $30 billion to the Bill & Melinda GatesFoundation, the first Kazakh space satellite"KazSat" is launched, Pope Benedict XVIvisits Istanbul and prays in The BlueMosque.

The story of Marxism is scattered some-where between all these facts. One whotries nowadays to understand Marxismshould fit and make sense, all at once, of:accumulation by dispossession, addedvalue, alienating work environment, alien-ation, antagonistic contradiction, anti-estab-lishment voices, anti-revisionist commu-nists, apparatchiks, Bolsheviks, bourgeoisideology, bourgeois-democratic revolution,bureaucratic collectivist, bureaucraticallydegenerated workers' state, businesscycles, cadres, capital accumulation, capi-talist society, Central Committee, centraliza-tion, class consciousness, class rule, classstruggle, class struggle under socialism,class warfare, classless society, collectivefarming, collective ownership, collectiviza-tion, Comintern, command economy, com-modity fetishism, common ownership ofproperty, Communist International, com-rades, control, cost of capital, counterrevo-lution, cult of personality, cultural hegemo-ny, Cultural Revolution, culture of capital-ism, deformed workers' states, democraticcentralism, democratic socialism, dialecticalmaterialism, dialectics, dictatorship of thebourgeoisie, dictatorship of the proletariat,egalitarianism, empiricism, enemies of thepeople, entrepreneurs, eternal laws of eco-nomics, Fabianism, factors of production,factory committees, false consciousness,final stage, fixed capital, glasnost, guerrillawarfare, Gulag, historical materialism, his-torical norms, historical progress, histori-cism, ideological control, imperialism, intelli-gentsia, intermediate stage, iteration,Keynesianism, kolkhoz, Komsomol, laborcamps, labor power, labor theory of value,law of value, left and right deviationism, left

opposition, Leninism, lumpenproletariat,Maoism, market failures, market socialism,materialism, means of production,Mensheviks, nationalization, necessarylabor and necessary product, new classand new ruling class, nomenklatura, non-aligned movement, on country two systemsmodel, operating surplus, oppression,organic composition of capital, over-deter-mination, party apparatus, party discipline,people's commissars, perestroika, perma-nent revolution, philosophical materialism,planned economy, pogroms, politburo, polit-ical economy, political revolution, pre-capi-talist societies, primitive accumulation ofcapital, private sector, productive andunproductive labor, productive forces, pro-fessional revolutionaries, profit upon alien-ation, proletarianisation, propaganda by thedeed, rate of exploitation, reactionary ele-ments, reactionary utopias, red terror, rela-tions of production, return on capital, revo-lutionary dictatorship of the proletariat, rev-olutionary propaganda, ruling class, ruralproletarians, satellite states, scientificsocialism, simultaneous global revolution,single-party state, social inequality, social-ism in one country, soviet bloc, soviets,stateless communism, stateless society,structural Marxism, supply and demand,surplus labor, surplus product, syndicalism,The Great Leap Forward, third way, Titoism,unemployment benefits, unequal exchange,vanguard party, variable capital, wage slav-ery, war of classes, welfare state, workers'movement.

Yet, close understanding of Marxism maybe at hand in the future. In 2006 like in1848: Paris suburbs are still boiling, theVenezuelan National Congress is storming,revolts in Budapest, Hungary, are very com-mon, civil disobedience is still there just thatit changed names to “alter-globalization”and “hooliganism” and the Russian secretpolice is all the same very effective.

Marxism is not in the news nowadays. Thevery terms that once stood at the core of thedebate about Marxism - proletariat andbourgeoisie - are completely absent inNovember 2006, when I wrote this lines, inthe columns of New York Times,Washington Post, Le Monde, Die Welt, DieZeit, Guardian, or Pravda.

In the news of 1848, when Karl Marx pub-lished The Communist Manifesto, musthave been among others: the world experi-ences a series of widespread and finallyfailed brawls for more liberal rules,Wisconsin is admitted as the 30th U.S.state, there is a gold rush somewhere inCalifornia, Franz Josef becomes TheEmperor of Austria and Prince Louis-Napoleon Bonaparte is elected first presi-dent of the French Second Republic, HenryDavid Thoreau writes the famous "TheRights and Duties of the Individual inRelation to Government" (known as CivilDisobedience), King Ludwig I of Bavariaabdicates, the second Roman Republic isfounded following a revolt in Rome.

158 years later, in 2006, Russia cuts naturalgas to neighboring Ukraine due to a pricedisagreement, the 48th Annual GrammyAwards are held at the Staples Center inLos Angeles, California and the big winnersare U2 who sweep al 5 nominations, AppleiTunes Store sells the 1 billionth song,Albert II, Prince of Monaco, becomes thefirst reigning monarch ever to reach theNorth Pole, FC Barcelona defeats Arsenalin the final of the UEFA Champions League

Marxism News

by Cosmin Gabriel Marian

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can be decided by a word or two in theparty programme.”1 We need to remem-ber that Leninism, as an allegedly coher-ent, homogenous, self-sufficient ideologi-cal construct, was a post-1924 creation: itwas actually the result of Zinoviev’s andStalin’s efforts to delegitimize Trotsky bydevising something called “Leninism” asopposed to the heresy branded asTrotskyism. At the same time Bolshevismwas an intellectual and political reality, atotal and totalizing philosophical, ethical,and practical-political direction within theworld revolutionary movement2 It wasthanks to Lenin that a new type of politicsemerged in the twentieth century, onebased on elitism, fanaticism, unswervingcommitment to the sacred cause, andcomplete substitution of critical reasonthrough faith for the self-appointed “van-guards” of illuminated zealots (the profes-sional revolutionaries). Leninism, initiallya Russian, then a world-historical culturaland political phenomenon, was in fact thefoundation stone of the system that cameto an end with the revolutions of 1989-91.Whatever one thinks of Lenin’s anti-bureaucratic struggle during his lastyears, or about his initiation of the NewEconomic Policy (NEP), the thrust of hisaction was essentially opposed to politicalpluralism. The nature of the Bolshevik“intra-party democracy” was essentiallyinimical to free debate and competition ofrival political views and platforms (asLenin himself insisted, the Party was nota “discussion club”). The March 1921“ban on factions” resolution, directly relat-ed to the crushing of the Kronstadt upris-ing, indicated the persistent dictatorialpropensity of Bolshevism. The persecu-tion of the left-wing SocialistRevolutionaries and Mensheviks, not tospeak of other foes, confirms that forLenin and his associates, the “dictator-

ship of the proletariat” meant the continu-ous strenghening of their absolute controlover the body politic. Tolerance for cultur-al diversity and temporary acceptance ofmarket relations were not meant to ques-tion the fundamental power relationship:the party’s monopolistic domination andthe stifling of any ideological alternative toBolshevism.3 In this respect, there wereno serious differences between the mem-bers of Lenin’s Politburo, Trotsky,Zinoviev, and Bukharin included. To putbriefly, no Leninism, no totalitarianism, atleast not in its Stalinist version. The twen-tieth century was in fact Lenin’s century.In other words, post-communism meansa continuous struggle to overcome the“remains of Leninism.” I once proposedthe term “the Leninist debris”, clearly anelaboration on Ken Jowitt’s illuminatingconcept of Leninist legacy, as a civiliza-tional constellation, including deep emo-tions, nostalgias, sentiments, resent-ments, phobias, collectivist yearnings,and attraction to paternalism and evencorporatism.4

Jowitt is among the few political scientistswho accurately understood the deepappeals of Leninism as directly related tothe emergence of the vanguard party as asubstitute for traditional charismatic, reli-gious-type referentials in times of deepmoral and cultural crisis: “Leninism andNazism were each, in different ways, per-verse attempts to sustain and restore aheroic ethos and life in opposition to a lib-eral bourgeois individualistic sys-tem…(…) …the defining principle ofLeninism is to do what is illogical, and thatis to make the impersonal charismatic.Charisma is typically associated with asaint or a knight, some personal attribu-tion, and what Lenin did was remarkable.He did exactly what he claimed to do: hecreated a party of a new type. He made

Marxism was, as Leszek Kolakowskionce said, the greatest philosophical fan-tasy of modern times. All its radical hubrisnotwithstanding, Marxism would haveremained a mere sociological doctrinehad Lenin not turned it into a most potentpolitical weapon. This is the meaning ofthe Antonio Gramsci’s comparisonbetween Lenin and St Paul-Lenin trans-formed the Marxian salvationistWeltanschauung into a global politicalpraxis. The Bolshevik revolution wasapplied eschatological dialectics, and theThird International symbolized the univer-salization of the new revolutionary matrix.Lenin’s crucial institutional invention (theBolshevik party) and his audacious inter-vention in the praxis of world socialistmovement enthused Georg Lukacs whonever abandoned his deep admiration forthe founder of Bolshevism. Referring toLukacs’s attachment to Lenin’s vision ofpolitics, Slavoj Zizek writes: “…his Leninwas the one who, apropos of the split inRussian Social Democracy intoBolsheviks and Mensheviks, when thetwo factions fought over a precise formu-lation of who can be a Party member asdefined in the Party program, wrote:‘Sometimes, the fate f the entire workingclass movement for long years to come

Lenin’s Century: Bolshevism, Marxism, andthe Russian Tradition

by Vladimir Tismaneanu˘

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the party charismatic. People died for theparty.”5 Thus, Jowitt’s definition ofLeninism links the ideological, emotional,and organizational components in a com-prehensive dynamic constellation:

“…Leninism is best seen as a historicalas well as organizational syndrome,based on charismatic impersonalism; astrategy based on an ‘ingenious error’leading to collectivization/industrializa-tion; and an international bloc led by adominant regime, with the same definitionas its constituent parts, acting as leader,model, and support.” 6

Leninism as a political and culturalregime, or as an international system, isundoubtedly extinct. On the other hand,the Leninist/Stalinist model of the highly-disciplined, messianic sect-type organiza-tion based on rejection of pluralism anddemonization of the “Other” has not lostits appeals: suffice it to remember Lenin’sdiatribes against the Mensheviks, theSocialist Revolutionaries, the “kulaks,”“bourgeois intellectuals,” etc. In his view,their place, even when they disguisedthemselves as non-party affiliated individ-uals, was in jail.7 This quasi-rational, infact almost mystical identification with theparty (conceived as a beleagueredfortress, surrounded by vicious ene-mies—therefore the barricade componentof the story) was of course a main psy-chological feature of Bolshevism (in what-ever incarnation) before what Robert C.Tucker defines as its de-radicalization(what Jowitt would call the rise of theAquinas temptation, in the figure of “mod-ern revisionism,” as Mao Zedong accu-rately defined Titoism andKhrushchevism). To be a Leninist meantto accept the party’s claim to scientificknowledge (grasping the “laws of histori-cal evolution”) as well as itsprophetic/oracular pretense—doubting

the party’s omniscience and omnipotencewas the cardinal sin (as finally admittedby the Old Bolshevik Nikolai Rubashov,Arthur Koestler’s hero in Darkness atNoon). Think of Lenin’s famous state-ment in October 1917: “History will notforgive us if we miss this opportunity.” AsLeszek Kolakowski put it: “Party minded-ness, the political principle revered by allLeninists, resulted in the infallible imagebestowed on the general secretary.”8 YuriPyatakov, one of Lenin’s favorites amongthe younger generation of the BolshevikOld Guard, spelled out this identificationwith the Party in most dramatic terms:“Yes, I shall consider black something thatI felt and considered to be white, sinceoutside the party, outside accord with it,there is no life for me.”9 Ideological abso-lutism, sacralization of the ultimate goal,suspension of critical faculties, and thecult of the party line as the perfect expres-sion of the general will were embedded inthe original Bolshevik project. The subor-dination of all conventional moral criteriato the ultimate end of achieving the class-less society was the main problem withLeninism. It shared with Marxism whatSteven Lukes calls “the emancipatingvision of a world in which the principlesthat protect human beings from oneanother would no longer be needed.”10

One of the best descriptions of theCommunist mind can be found in the fol-lowing testimony of Lev Kopelev, themodel for Aleksandr Solzhenitsyn’s char-acter Rubin in his novel The First Circle:“With rest of my generation I firmlybelieved that the ends justify the means.Our great goal was the universal triumphof Communism, and for the sake of thatgoal everything was permissible - to lie, tosteal, to destroy hundreds of thousandsand even millions of people, all those whowere hindering our work or could hinder it,

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everyone who stood in the way. And tohesitate or doubt about all this was to givein to ‘intellectual squeamishness’ and‘stupid liberalism,’ the attributes of peoplewho ‘could not see the forest for thetrees’.”11

Lukes is therefore correct in emphasizingthe structural-generative ideological andemotional matrix of communism thatmade its crimes against humanity possi-ble: “The defect in question, causingmoral blindness at a heroic scale, wascongenital.”12 This same point is empha-sized by Martin Amis for whom Lenin“was a morap aphasiac, a moral autist.”13

The magic evaporated once the histori-cally-anointed leader ceased to be thecustodian of absolute truth: this makesKhrushchev’s onslaughts on Stalin at the20th CPSU Congress (the “SecretSpeech”) and in October 1961, at the22nd Congress, crucially important (asadmitted by Mikhail Gorbachev in his con-versations with former Prague Springchief ideologue Zdenek Mlynar.14 At thesame time, it was precisely the charismat-ic impersonalism, as Jowitt argues, thatprovided the antidote to desperation atthe moment Khrushchev exposed Stalin’scrimes. This feature, indeed, cruciallydistinguished Bolshevism from Nazism:“The leader is charismatic in Nazism; theprogram and (possibly) the leader arecharismatic in Leninism.”15 The Leninistultimate goal was the elimination (extinc-tion) of politics through the triumph of theParty as the embodiment of an exclusion-ary, even eliminationist/exterminist gener-al will.16 Under conditions of monistic cer-titude, recognition of fallibility is the begin-ning of any ideological fundamentalism’sextinction. But during the “heroic” times,throughout War Communism and the“building of socialism,” the unity betweenparty and Vozhd was, no less than terror,

the key to the system’s survival. HomoSovieticus was more than a propagandaconcoction.

In her acceptance speech for the year2000 Hannah Arendt Award, given jointlyby the city of Bremen, the Heinrich BollFoundation, and the Hannah ArendtAssociation, Elena Bonner writes: “One ofHannah Arendt’s key conclusions was‘The totality of terror is guaranteed bymass support.’ It is consonant with a latercomment by Sakharov: ‘The slogan ‘Thepeople and the Party are one’, painted onevery fifth building, are not just emptywords.”17 This is precisely the point: theinternalization of Leninist forms of think-ing by millions of denizens of theSovietized world, their readiness toaccept paternalistic collectivism as a bet-ter form of life than risk-driven, freedom-oriented experiences. In my view, themajor cleavage in today’s Russian politi-cal culture is that between the Leninistheritage and the democratic aspirationsand practices associated with the name ofSakharov and Russia’s human rightsmovement. To quote Elena Bonneragain: “In the preamble to his draft for aSoviet Constitution, Sakharov wrote: ‘Thegoal of the peoples of USSR and its gov-ernment is a happy life, full of meaning,material and spiritual freedom, well-being,and peace.’ But in the decades afterSakharov, Russia’s people have notincreased their happiness, even thoughhe did everything humanly possible to putthe country on the path leading to the foal.And he himself lived a worthy and happylife.”18

As a political doctrine (or perhaps as apolitical faith) Bolshevism was a synthesisbetween radical Jacobinism, orBlanquism (elitism, minority rule dis-guised as “dictatorship of the proletariat,”exaltation of the heroic vanguard);

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unavowed Russian “Nechaevism” andperpetuation of the radical-conspiratorialmentalities; and the authoritarian-volun-tarist components of Marxism.19

Bolshevism places the emphasis on theomnipotence of the revolutionary organi-zation and nourishes contempt for whatHannah Arendt once called the little veri-ties of fact—e.g. Lenin’s and Trotsky’sfierce attacks on the “renegade” KarlKautsky who had dared to question theBolshevik repudiation of all “formal” liber-ties in the name of protecting the “dicta-torship of the proletariat,” never mind thatLenin borrowed from Kautsky his “injec-tion of consciousness” theory.

Is this all over? Far from it (and thisapplies not only to the countries onceruled by Leninist parties, but also tonationalist socialist parties like Baath andcharismatic fundamentalist, neo-totalitari-an movements, including Osama binLaden’s Al Qaeda.20 The Leninist(Bolshevik) mental matrix is rooted in apolitical culture suspicious of open dia-logue, democratic procedures, and hos-tile to spontaneous developments frombelow. Leninism is not only an ideology,but also a set of precepts and techniquesmeant to inspire revolutionary globalactivism and militantism opposed to bour-geois liberalism and democratic social-ism. This is precisely the similarity butalso the main distinction between the twomain onslaughts on liberal individualism:Fascism as a pathology of romantic irra-tionalism, and Bolshevism as a pathologyof Enlightenment-inspired hyper-rational-ism.21 I don’t want to be misunderstood:an offspring of the 19th century anti-bour-geois, often anti-modern ideologies ofressentiment, Fascism did not needBolshevism in order to emerge andmature (as demonstrated in IsaiahBerlin’s fascinating essay on Joseph de

Maistre and the origins of Fascism.22 Thecult of race, the blending of pseudo-scien-tism (social Darwinism) with the neo-pagan worshipping of blood and soil, andthe resentful rejection of liberal values as“soulless arithmetic,” predated Leninism.On the other hand, it is hard to deny thatthe triumph of Bolshevism, the intensityand scope of the Red Terror, together withthe traumatic effects of World War I andthe widespread sentiment that “the worldof yesterday” (Stefan Zweig) had irretriev-ably come to an end, catalyzed theFascist offensive against the universalis-tic traditions of the Enlightenment.Fascism was no less a fantasy of salva-tion than Bolshevism: both promised torescue humanity from the bondage ofcapitalist mercantilism and ensure theadvent of the total community. TheLeader, as a superman, of course, playsan essential role in such movements. Toquote Paul Berman:“Lenin was the original model of such a

Leader—Lenin, who wrote pamphlets andphilosophical tracts with the confidence ofa man who believes the secrets of theuniverse to be at his fingertips, and whoestablished a weird new religion with KarlMarx as god, and who, after his death,was embalmed like a pharaoh and wor-shipped by the masses. But il Duce wasno less a superman. Stalin was a colos-sus. About Hitler, Heidegger, bug-eyed,said: ‘But look at his hands’.”23

Spontaneity (stikhiinost’) has alwaysbeen the Leninists nemesis (think ofLenin’s polemics first with RosaLuxemburg, then with the left-wing com-munists on the relationship between classand party). Its counterpart was the obses-sion with partiinost’, the unbound accept-ance of the party line (philosophy, sociol-ogy, aesthetics had to be subordinated tothe party-defined “proletarian interests,”

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hence the dichotomy between “bour-geois” and “proletarian” social science).Much of this dogmatism stemmed fromthe Russian authoritarian traditions andthe lack of a culture of public debate.Remember Antonio Gramsci’s reflectionson Russia’s “gelatinous” civil society andthe omnipotence of the bureaucraticstate? Wasn’t Lenin himself, by the end ofhis life, terrified by the resurgence of thetime-honored traditions of rudeness, vio-lence, brutality, and hypocrisy that he hadlambasted and against which the revolu-tion was presumably directed?Now, in dealing with the impact ofRussian ideas and practices on the West,there is always a problem: What Russiantradition do we refer to? The Decembristor the czarist-autocratic one? Chaadaevor Gogol? Turgenev or Dostoyevski? Theliberal humanists who opposed thepogroms and the blood libel or the BlackHundreds? Vladimir Korolenko orKonstantin Pobedonostsev? TheBolshevik apocalyptical scenario or theMenshevik evolutionary socialism? Theterrorist rejection of status quo, the intelli-gentsia’s perpetual self-flagellation andoutrage, or the dissident vision of a liber-ated polis? And even within the dissidentculture, there has always been a tensionbetween the liberals and the nationalists,between the supporters of AndreiSakharov and those of Igor Shafarevich.All these questions remain as troublingnow as they were one hundred years ago.Once again, Russia is confronted with theeternal questions: “What is to be done?”and “Who is to be blamed?” And, in differ-ent versions, whether they admit it or not,all participants in the debate are hauntedby Lenin’s inescapable presence. Leninwas the most influential Russian politicalpersonality of the 20th century, and forEast Europeans Lenin’s influence result-

ed in complete transformation of their lifeworlds. It would be easy to simply say thatLeninism succumbed in the events of1989-91, but the truth is that residualBolshevism continues to be a major com-ponent of the hybrid transitional culture ofpost-Soviet Russia (and East-CentralEurope). The major theme of the RichardPipes-Martin Malia explicit or implicit con-troversy is thus important for our interpre-tation not only of Russian modern history,but also for the discussion of the natureand future of left-wing, socialist politics inthe 21st century: Was it Russia thatdestroyed (compromised) socialism-asPipes and, earlier, Max Weber put it, orrather it was revolutionary socialism that,because of its political, indeed metaphys-ical hubris, imposed immense sufferingson Russia.24 Thus, objecting to youngGeorg Lukacs’s celebration of Lenin’stakeover of power in Russia, Weberinsisted on the impossibility to build up thesocialism Karl Marx had envisioned in theabsence of genuine capitalist, bourgeois,market developments: “It is with good rea-son,” he wrote,” that the CommunistManifesto emphasized the economicallyrevolutionary character of the bourgeoiscapitalist entrepreneurs. No trade-unions,much less state-socialist officials, canperform this role for us at their place.”25

Earlier than many later critics ofSovietism, Weber concluded that theLeninist experiment would discreditsocialism for the entire twentieth century.26

So, is there a reason to consider Lenin’spolitical praxis as a source of inspirationfor those who look for a new political tran-scendence? Is it a blueprint for a resur-rected radicalism, as suggested by SlavojZizek who proposes the revival of theLeninist 1917 revolutionary leap into thekingdom of utopia? Reactualizing Lenin’sdefiance to the opportunistic/conformist

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submission to the logic of the status quois for Zizek the voie royale for restoring aradical praxis: “This is the Lenin fromwhom we still have something to learn.The greatness of Lenin was that in thiscatastrophic situation, he wasn’t afraid tosucceed—in contrast to the negativepathos discernible in Rosa Luxemburgand Adorno, for whom the ultimateauthentic act is the admission of the fail-ure, which brings the truth of the situationto light. In 1917, instead of waiting untilthe time was ripe, Lenin organized a pre-emptive strike; in 1920, as the leader ofthe party of the working class with noworking class (most if it being decimatedin the civil war), he went on organizing astate, fully accepting the paradox of theparty which was to organize—even recre-ate—its own base, its working class.”27

Compare this exalted vision of Lenin toformer communist ideologue AlexanderYakovlev’s indictment of Lenin’s essentialrole in the establishment of a dictatorialregime in which the working class was tosuffer as much as other social strata theeffects of utopian social engineering.28

Can Leninism be separated from the insti-tution of the vanguard party and be con-ceived as a form of intellectual and moralresistance to the conformist debacle ofthe international left at a moment of civi-lizational collapse (World War I)? Thedebate on Leninism bears upon the pos-sibility of radical-emancipatory practiceand the need to reconstruct areas ofautonomy in opposition to the logic ofinstrumental rationality: the burning ques-tion remains whether such efforts are pre-destined to end up in new coercive under-takings, or, rather, Leninism was a pecu-liar, sui generis combination of Marxismand an underdeveloped political and eco-nomic structure. Indeed, as Trotsky insist-ed, the defeat of “world revolution,” after

all the main strategic postulate on whichLenin had built his whole revolutionaryadventure, made the rise of Stalinism asociological and political necessity. Herewe may remember Isaac Deutscher’sanalysis: “Under Lenin, Bolshevism hadbeen accustomed to appeal to reason,the self-interest, and the enlightened ide-alism of ‘class-conscious’ industrial work-ers. It spoke the language of reason evenwhen it appealed to the muzhiks. Butonce Bolshevism had ceased to rely onrevolution in the West, once it had lost thesense of its elevation above its nativeenvironment, once it had become awarethat it could only fall back on that environ-ment and dig itself in, it began to descendto the level of primitive magic, and toappeal to the people in the language ofthat magic.”29

How does one make sense of the fact thatunlike all other East European societies,Russia is the only one that seems unableto restore the pre-communist traditionsand parties? Where are the SR, Kadets,Mensheviks, even Bolsheviks? Theanswer is that, whatever one says orthinks about the final disintegration ofLeninism, it was a quite successful exper-iment in reshaping political communityaccording to a certain interpretation ofsocial science.30 As Louis Althusser onceput it, Leninism was not a new philosophyof praxis, but a new praxis of philosophy.In fact, this meant that a group of self-appointed revolutionary pedagoguesmanaged to coerce a large population toaccept their obsessions as the inexorableimperative of History. Indeed, as VassilyGrossman’s novel Life and Fate poignant-ly reveals, there was no significant dis-tinction between the way the denizens ofthe Soviet world and the subjects of theNazi dictatorship experienced ideologyand power (which, of course, does not

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mean that the ideologies were identical,but simply that what Steven Lukes calls“moral blindness” functioned in both sys-tems).In this essay, I will further concentrate onthe originality of Leninism and the need tobe very cautious in writing its definitiveobituary. Yes, as a Russian model ofsocialism it is exhausted, but there issomething in Leninism, if you want itsantidemocratic, collectivist pathos associ-ated with the invention of the party as amystical body transcending individualfears, anguishes, despair, loneliness, etc,that remains with us. All political figures inpost-Soviet Russia, all parties, move-ments, and associations define them-selves, must do so, in relationship toLenin’s legacies. In this respect, as anorganizational principle, not as a world-view, Leninism is alive, if not well.Ideologically it is extinct, of course, but itsrepudiation of democratic deliberationand contempt for “sentimental bourgeoisvalues” have not vanished. This isbecause the cult of the organization andthe contempt for individual rights is partand parcel of one direction within the“Russian tradition” (I have doubts that onecan speak of the Russian tradition, or,together with Hélène Carrèred’Encausse, of le malheur russe, etc).Russian memory includes a plurality oftrends and one should avoid any kind ofManichean taxonomy. At the same time, itis doubtless that, as Nikolai Berdyaevnoticed, there is something deeplyRussian in the love for the ultimate, uni-versally cathartic, redeeming revolution,which explains why Lenin and his follow-ers (including the highly sophisticatedphilosophers Georg Lukacs and ErnstBloch) did embrace a certain cataclysmic,Messianic, absolutist direction within theMarxian tradition.31 At the same time, one

should place Leninism in contradistinctionto other versions of Marxism, at least aslegitimate if not more. It is not at all self-evident that one can derive the genocidallogic of Gulag from Marx’s universalisticpostulates, whereas it is quite clear thatmuch of the Stalinist system existed inembryo in Lenin’s Russia. At the sametime, together with Robert C. Tucker, weshould admit the heterogeneous nature ofthe Bolshevik tradition itself and avoid thetemptation of “retroactive determinism”—Stalin’s Lenin was therefore only one ofthe possibilities implied in the Leninistproject.One can ask then: What was Lenin’sunique, extraordinary innovation? Whatwas the substance of his transformativeaction: here, I think that Jowitt rather thanZizek gives the accurate answer. Thecharismatic vanguard party, made up ofprofessional revolutionaries, was invent-ed by Lenin one hundred years ago, in1902, when he wrote his most influentialtext, What Is to Be Done? In his recentwork, Lars Lih disagrees with the “text-book interpretation” and insists that many,if not most Social Democrats at the begin-ning of the 20th century were convincedof the need to bring consciousness to theclass from “without.”32 According to Lih,the thrust of the anti-Lenin critique fromother socialists was not What Is to BeDone, but rather his “Letter to aComrade,” September 1902, and espe-cially One Step Forward, published inspring 1904. But this “injection approach”is not the thrust of Lenin’s main revision ofclassical Marxism: it is not the education-al action per se, but rather the nature ofthe pedagogical agent that matters in thestory. This “party of a new type” symbol-ized what Antonio Gramsci later calledthe “New Prince”; a new figure of the polit-ical that absorbs and incorporates up to

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the point of definitive osmosis/asphyxia-tion the independent life of society. It is,in the words of A. J. Polan, “the end ofpolitics” via the ultimate triumph of politi-cal will. Vladimir Mayakovski was rightwhen he identified the two: “When we sayLenin/We mean the Party/And when wesay Party/We mean Lenin” (this identifica-tion between party and leader startedunder Lenin and reached its ultimateexpression under Stalin and Mao—in theFascist experiments the role of the party,and even that of ideology was less signif-icant). The Leninist party is dead (it isquite ironical that the Gennady Zyuganov-style epigones of the Communist Party ofthe Russian Federation combineSlavophile Orthodoxy, xenophobia, impe-rialism, and Bolshevik nostalgia in abaroque nationalist-cum-egalitarian col-lectivistic blending). But the cult of theinstitution, the sectarian vision of a com-munity of virtuous, ascetic, righteous indi-viduals, selflessly committed to improvingthe life of humanity and erect NikolaiChernyshevky’s dream, the “CrystalPalace” here and now is not extinct. Itexplains the nature of the post-communisttransitions, where the initiatives frombelow are still marginal, and the center ofpower remains, in many cases, as con-spiratorial, secretive and non-democraticas it was in pre-Leninist and Leninisttimes. Is this bound to stay the same? Myanswer is tentatively negative: after all,the monolith was broken, the dream ofcommunism as the secular kingdom ofGod has failed. The challenge remainshowever: coming to terms with Lenin’slegacies, admitting that Sovietism was notimposed by extra-terrestrial aliens on aninnocent intelligentsia, but rather found itscauses, origins, and most propitiousground in the radical segments of theRussian political culture.33 To put it simply:

the Third International and the majorschism within the world Marxist move-ment were the consequences of Lenin’sdefiant gesture, the seizure of power inthe fall of 1917 “History will not forgive usif we don’t do it”—again, a personalizationof an alleged historical necessity.The 20th century was one of revolutionsand counter-revolutions, and theBolshevik takeover of power in October1917 inaugurated a period of global ideo-logical warfare that may have come to anend only with the collapse of the USSR in1991 (the “age of extremes”, as EricHobsbawm calls this epoch, or, to useGeorge Lichtheim’s term, later adopted byErnst Nolte, “the European civil war”).I will refer here to the works of Claude

Lefort, the distinguished French politicalphilosopher, author of important studieson modern bureaucracy, Fascist andCommunist totalitarianisms, the Jacobintradition, as well as Machiavelli’sthought.34 In an important book, Lefortproposes a deliberately controversial the-sis: engaging in a polemic with bothFrancois Furet (Le passé d’une illusion)and Martin Malia (The Soviet Tragedy),Lefort maintains that Bolshevism (or, ingeneral, 20th century communism) wasnot simply an ideological mirage (illusion,chimera, delusion, etc).35 Ideology mat-tered enormously, as Solzhenytsin, onwhom Lefort wrote extensively, haddemonstrated. But the ideological pas-sion alone, or the frantic will to impose autopian blueprint, cannot explain thelongevity and intensity of the communistphenomenon. In the spirit of French soci-ology (Emile Durkheim, Marcel Mauss), itwould be fruitful to regard communism as“total social fact”. The totalitarian systemcannot be seen only as an emotional-intellectual superstructure, but as an insti-tutional ensemble inspired by these pas-

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sions. In other words, it is not the originalMarxism, as constituted in the Westernrevolutionary tradition that explains theSoviet tragedy, but rather the mutationintroduced by Lenin.There is, undoubtedly, an authoritarian

propensity at the heart of the Marxianproject, but the idea of the ultra-central-ized, sectarian, extremely militarizedparty, a minority of knowledgeable “cho-sen ones” who know the esoteric gnosiswhile preaching the egalitarian rhetoric tothe masses, this idea is directly linked toLenin’s intervention in the evolution ofRussian and European SocialDemocracy. Lenin’s revolutionary noveltyconsists in the cult of the dogma and theelevation of the Party to the level ofuniquely legitimate interpreter of therevealed truth (a major distinction with theright-wing revolutionary totalitarian move-ments). Indeed, Lenin carried to anextreme the idea of a privileged relationbetween “revolutionary theory” and “prac-tice.” The latter constitutes (substantiates)itself in the figure of the presumably infal-lible Party, custodian of an omniscience(“epistemic infallibility,” to use Giuseppede Palma’s term) that defines and exor-cises any doubt as a form of treason.In opposition to those authors who are stillready to grant Marxism and evenLeninism certain legitimacy in their claimto a liberal-democratic pedigree, it isessential to recognize, together withLefort, but also with CorneliusCastoriadis, and much earlier RosaLuxemburg, Karl Kautsky, AntonPannekoek, and Boris Souvarine, thatBolshevism is inherently inimical to politi-cal liberties. It is not a deviation from thedemocratic project, but its direct andunequivocal opposite. Thus, Lefortquotes Tocqueville: “To grant the epithetof democratic to a government that

denies political freedom to its citizens is ablatant absurdity.” The annihilation ofdemocracy within the Leninist practice isdetermined by the nature of the Party asa secular substitute for the unifying total-izing mystique in the political body of theabsolute sovereign (the medieval King).In other words, the Leninist model breakswith the Enlightenment tradition and re-asserts the integral homogenization of thesocial space as a political and pragmaticideal. There is therefore no way todemocratize Leninist regimes preciselybecause the doctrine’s original intention isto organize total domination.Here lies the essence of the Leninist (or

communist) question: the institution of themonolithic, unique party that emerges asa “besieged fortress” after 1903 (the greatschism between Bolsheviks andMensheviks) and acquires planetarydimensions after 1917. Marxism, con-verted and adjusted by Lenin, ceases tobe a revolutionary doctrine aiming atgrasping/conceiving (begreiffen) reality,and becomes an ideological body thatrequires from militants a discipline ofaction that makes them “members of acollective body.” Thus, Bolshevism addsto the 19th century revolutionary mytholo-gies something brand new: the inclusionof power in a type of representation thatdefines the party as a magical entity. It isthus important to keep in mind the signifi-cance of the political and symbolic struc-tures of Leninism, the underpinnings thatensured its success as an ideologicalstate (Weltanschauungstaat). No matterhow we look into this story, Lenin’s cele-bration of the party’s predestined status,together with his obsessional insistenceon conspiratorial forms of organization(the revolutionary “cells”) and the cult offanatic regimentation have initiated a newform of political radicalism, irreconcilable

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with the Western individualistic liberal tra-dition or, for that matter, with anti-authori-tarian, democratic (liberal) socialism.Zizek’s proposed “return to Lenin” meanssimply a return to a politics of irresponsi-bility, a resurrection of a political ghostwhose main legacies are related to thelimitation, rather than the expansion ofdemocratic experimentation: after all, itwas Lenin who suppressed direct democ-racy in the form of councils, disbandedthe embryonic Russian parliament, andtransformed terror into a privileged instru-ment for preserving power. Once again,when Hitler destroyed the Weimar consti-tutional system and abolished all “bour-geois freedoms,” he imitated theBolshevik precedent of the permanentemergency syndrome as a justification forlegitimizing the destruction of legality andthe elimination, including the physicalannihilation, of all those regarded as“objective” obstacles to the building of aperfect, organic community.

Notes

1 See Slavoj Zizek, Did Somebody SayTotalitarianism? Verso, 2001, p. 116. 2 See, in this respect, Bertram Wolfe,“Leninism” in Milorad M. Drachkovitch,Marxism in the Modern World (Stanford:Stanford University Press, 1965), pp. 47-89.3 See Andrzej Walicki, Marxism and the Leapinto the Kingdom of Freedom (Stanford:Stanford University Press, 1995), pp. 269-397.4 See my book Fantasies of Salvation:Nationalism, Democracy, and Myth in Post-Communist Europe (Princeton, N.J.: PrincetonUniversity Press, 1998).5 “The Individual, Charisma, and the LeninistExtinction,” A Conversation with Ken Jowitt,Berkeley, Institute of International Studies,2000.6 Ken Jowitt, New World Disorder: TheLeninist Extinction (Berkeley: University ofCalifornia Press, 1992), p. 49.7 See the quotations on Lenin and terror, inKostas Papaioannou’s excellent anthologyMarx et les marxistes (Paris: Gallimard, 2001),p. 314. 8 Leszek Kolakowski, Main Currents ofMarxism, Vol. 3, The Breakdown (Oxford andNew York: Oxford University Press, 1978) p.90.9 Piatakov quoted in Walicki, Marxism, p. 46110 See Steven Lukes, “On the MoralBlindness of Communism,” Human RightsReview, Vol. 2, No. 2, January-March 2001, p.120. 11 Idem, p. 121. 12 Ibidem, p. 123. 13 See Martin Amis, Koba the Dread:Laughter and the Twenty Million (New York:Hyperion, 2002), p. 90.14 Mikhail Gorbachev and Zdenek Mlynar,Conversations with Gorbachev onPerestroika, the Prague Spring, and theCrossroads of Socialsim (New York: ColumbiaUniversity Press, 2002).15 Jowitt, New World Disorder, p. 10.16 See A. J. Polan, Lenin and the End ofPolitics (Berkeley: University of CaliforniaPress, 1984), p. 73. For the relationshipbetween Leninism and Marxist eschatology,

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see Igal Halfin, From Darkness to Light: Class,Consciousness, and Salvation inRevolutionary Russia (Pittsburgh: PittsburghUniversity Press, 2000).17 Elena Bonner, “The Remains ofTotalitarianism,” The New York Review ofBooks, March 8, 2001, p. 4. 18 Ibidem, p. 5.19 See Alain Besancon, The Rise of theGulag: The Intellectual Origins of Leninism(New York: Continuum, 1981); Jacob L.Talmon, Myth of the Nation and Vision of theRevolution: Ideological Polarizations in theTwentieth Century (New Brunswick:Transaction, 1991).20 See Paul Berman, Terror and Liberalism(New York: Norton, 2003).21 See Pierre Hassner, “Par-delà l’histoire etla mémoire,” in Henry Rousso, ed., Stalinismeet nazisme: Histoire et mémoire comparées(Paris: Editions Complexe, 1999), pp. 355-370. These topics have been luminouslyexplored in the writings of Francois Furet,Cornelius Castoriadis, Ferenc Feher, andClaude Lefort.22 See Isaiah Berlin, The Crooked Timber ofHumanity: Chapters in the History of Ideas(New York: Knopf, 1991), pp. 91-174.23 Paul Berman. Terror and Liberalism, p 50.24 See Martin Malia, The Soviet Tragedy (NewYork: Free Press, 1994), see also MikhailHeller and Aleksandr Nekrich, Utopia inPower: The History of the Soviet Union from1917 to the Present (New York: SummitBooks, 1986); Richard Pipes, The RussianRevolution (New York: Vintage Books, 1990).25 Quoted by John Patrick Diggins, MaxWeber: Politics and the Spirit of Tragedy (NewYork: Basic Books, 1996), p. 239. 26 Ibid. p, 230. 27 See “Introduction: Between The TwoRevolutions,” in Slavoj Zizek, ed., Revolutionat the Gates: Selected Writings of Lenin from1917 (London: Verso, 2002), p. 6.28 See Alexander Yakovlev, A Century ofViolence in Soviet Russia (New Haven: YaleUniversity Press, 2002); see also my review ofYakovlev’s book, “Apostate Apparatchik,”Times Literary Supplement, February 21,2003, p. 26.

29 See Isaac Deutscher, “Marxism andPrimitive Magic,” in Tariq Ali, ed., The StalinistLegacy: Its Impact on the 20th Century WorldPolitics (Harmondsworth: Penguin Books,1984), p. 113-114.30 See Daniel Chirot, “What Was CommunismAll About,” a review essay on The Black Bookof Communism, East European Politics andSocieties, Vol. 14, No. 3, Fall 2000, pp.665-675.31 Gorbachev’s former chief ideologueAlexander Yakovlev writes about this in hisotherwise uneven and vehement contributionto Stéphane Courtois, ed., Du passé nousfaisons table rase! Histoire et mémoire ducommunisme en Europe (Paris: RobertLaffont, 2002), pp. 173-210.32 See Lars T. Lih, “How a FoundingDocument Was Found, or One Hundred Yearsof Lenin’s What is To be Done?” Kritika:Explorations in Russian and Eurasian History,Vol. 4, No. 1, Winter 2003, pp. 5-49. 33 In addition to Jowitt’s contributions, seeRobert C. Tucker, The Soviet Political Mind(New York: Norton, 1971) and RobertConquest, Reflections on a Ravaged Century(New York: Norton, 2000).34 For an excellent analysis of Lefort’s writ-ings, see Dick Howard, The Specter ofDemocracy (New York: Columbia UniversityPress, 2002), pp. 71-82. 35 See Claude Lefort, La complication: Retoursur le communisme (Paris: Fayard, 1999).

This text was published first in: VladimirTismaneanu, Marc Morje Howard and RudraSil, "World Order after Leninism," Seattle andLondon, University of Washington Press,2006, pp.19-33.

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the undecidable, the incommensurableor the incalculable or on singularity,difference and heterogeneity are alsothrough and through, at least, oblique-ly discourses on justice." (FL, 7). Thisessay seeks to explicate Derrida’snotion of justice as that which perpetu-ally deconstructs law insofar as it high-lights the jurisprudential process as anurgent coming to decision even andespecially without precedence ratherthan a mere calculated exercise oflegal precedence.

Origins Problematized

Rosenfeld notes that a seriousengagement with deconstruction doesnot allow one the comforts of an "easysolution to the crisis affecting legalinterpretation" (Rosenfeld, 1993:153).In fact, as Derrida shows in the "multi-ple protocols and detours" that charac-terise his own address, one cannoteven begin to speak about justice with-out a betrayal of the very precepts ofthat justice, insofar as the definitivemoment, that is, the moment thatdefines, is always one of violence (andforce). It is this that, Derrida finds,exemplified in Montaigne's notion ofthe "mystical foundation of authority".The deconstructive critique of jurispru-dence could be conceived thus, ascentred on a problematization anddemystification, of this notion of theorigin / foundation (especially that oforiginal intent) in legal interpretation.Deconstruction presents a two-prongcritique of this jurisprudential relianceon the foundational / original. First, itreveals the contamination of the inau-gural mo(ve)ment by a law-founding

violence that is antithetical to the verynotions of legitimacy subsequentlyinstituted. Second, deconstructionpoints to "the multiple writings, era-sures and intersubjective collabora-tions" (Rosenfeld, 1993:153), thetraces of the other, that infuse the orig-inal law-founding moment; thus frus-trating a naive jurisprudential identifi-cation of / with original intent.

The call to justice or the demand onone to make a legal decision marksthe inaugural instance of a particularlaw. The beginning, the point at whichsomething is defined as law (legal), isan inauguration instituted by a vio-lence on its own precepts; whatBenjamin characterised as law-found-ing violence. The sources that "justify"a particular law, however, are alwaysextrinsic to itself in its foundingmoment. As Kearney notes, "(t)hefoundation of a law is always outsidethe law thus founded. The principle offoundation cannot found itself."(Kearney, 1993:35) The inaugural, ishere, as in Heidegger, a necessarilyviolent mo(ve)ment. This inauguralmo(ve)ment, for Derrida, is also a per-formative (a la Austin) mo(ve)ment;"The very emergence of justice andlaw, the founding and justifyingmoment that institutes law implies aperformative force, which is also aninterpretative force...of a performativeand interpretative violence that in itselfis neither just nor unjust and that nojustice or previous law with its found-ing anterior moment could guaranteeor contradict or invalidate." (FL, 13)This "original" point at which, Derridaposits a limit to (justifying) discourse,

Of Butchers and Policemen:Law, Justice and Economies of Anxiety

Deconstruction as Justice

The common criticism of deconstruc-tion's "lack of an ethics" or charges ofit’s anti-ethical stance could be under-stood in the light of an anxiety thatDerrida has constantly sought to(re)introduce into and often retain inthe structure of decision, into therealm of the ethical. The deconstruc-tive enterprise, critics claim, destabi-lizes any and every ethical stancethrough subjecting it to what seemslike an infinite critical interrogation thatmakes ethical action / decision(almost) impossible.

Derrida's "The Force of Law : TheMystical Foundation of Authority" , issaid to have offered "his most strenu-ous response to date to the chargethat deconstruction is unethical or anti-ethical" (Kearney, 1993:35), for heargues here that the incompatibilitybetween deconstruction and the ethi-cal question of justice is more appar-ent than real insofar as his previous"discourses on double affirmation, thegift beyond exchange and distribution,

by Gunalan Nadarajan

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is filled with ("emptied out" as) a spaceof silence and as the mystical (in fact,mystical because silent) - as a "vio-lence without ground" (FL, 14) . Asilence constituted by a silencing; aspace that coheres because of itsrefusal to "hear", what Derrida calls,the "call of the other". A discursivecoherence constituted by the mutedvoices of some other.

Slavoj Zizek provides an excellent dis-cussion of this originary complicitybetween violence and law in his TheyKnow Not What They Do: Enjoymentas Political Factor (1991) where hearrives at insights similar to (thoughindependent of), Derrida's "The Forceof Law" essay. Zizek notes, "any givenfield of symbolically structured mean-ing in a way always presupposes andprecedes itself. Once we are within afield of meaning it is by definitionimpossible to adopt an external atti-tude towards it" so much so that "(t)hehidden chasm of this vicious circleappears only at its purest under theguise of tautology: 'law is law', 'God isGod'."(Zizek, 1991:203) Zizek, in away that critically echoes Pascal,invokes this tautology as the verybasis of the mystical authority of law.He employs Pascal's discussions ofhow the law functions through a care-ful deception of those it subjects. ForPascal, Zizek says, "'(a)t the begin-ning' of the law, there is a certain 'out-law', a certain Real of violence whichcoincides with the act itself of theestablishment of the reign of law".However, it is "the disavowal of thisviolent act of foundation", of this origi-nary usurpation, that sustains the

legitimate appeal of the law. "The ille-gitimate violence by which law sus-tains itself must be concealed at anyprice, because this concealment is thepositive condition of the functioning oflaw: it functions insofar as its subjectsare deceived, in so far as they experi-ence the authority of law as 'authenticand eternal' and overlook 'the truthabout the usurpation'." (Zizek,1991:204; emphases mine)

It is from a sensitivity to the problemat-ic origins of/at the institution of law thatdeconstruction advises caution towardthe more "narrowly circumscribed andsimpler jurisprudence of original intent,where the meaning of the legal textscan be precisely framed by referenceto some transparent, self-presentintent of the framer of a constitution, alegislator or a party to a private con-tract" (Rosenfeld, 1993:153). The con-ception of an "original intent" institutesa discursive economy of the actual his-torical contingencies that may haveinfused and informed the interpretativecontext at its "original" instance(instant-iation). As Rosenfeld says,"from the standpoint of deconstruction,every writing (including the writing oflaws) embodies a failed attempt at rec-onciling identity and difference, unityand diversity and self and other".Thus, any pretensions, as those madeby much legal discourse given its "uni-versalist aspirations", to haveachieved such a reconciliation, "canonly be the product of ideological dis-tortion, suppression of difference orsubordination of the other."(Rosenfeld, 1993: 153) It is this econ-omy of/in law, providing calculability,

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that constitutes, for Derrida, its criticaldifference from justice. He says, "(l)aw(droit) is not justice. Law is the ele-ment of calculation, and it is just thatthere be law, but justice is incalcula-ble, it requires us to calculate with theincalculable" and such contention withincalculability constitutes the "aporeticexperiences" which are "improbableas they are necessary, of justice." (FL,16) Thus, resorting to the economizinggestures of "original intent", legal inter-pretation / decision would inevitablycircumvent the responsibilities and(according to Derrida) "healthy" anxi-eties entailed by/in the call of justice.

The fact that law's "ultimate founda-tions are by definition unfounded",however, is for Derrida "not bad news",as long as it does not "serve as an alibifor staying out of juridico-political bat-tles." He claims that "it is this decon-structible structure of law (droit)...thatalso insure(s) the possibility of decon-struction. Justice in itself, if such athing exists, outside or beyond law, isnot deconstructible". From this fact ofthe essential impossibility of decon-struction with reference to justice,Derrida moves on to claim, that"Deconstruction is justice" (p.14-15) .For Derrida thus, while the program-matic structure of law makes itamenable to deconstruction, theunprogrammatic structure of justicemakes it inseparable from deconstruc-tion. For him this means "deconstruc-tion takes place in the interval thatseparates the undeconstructibility ofjustice from the deconstructibility ofdroit (authority, legitimacy, and soon)." (FL, 15)

For Derrida, deconstruction, which is"already engaged" in the "demand forinfinite justice" (FL, 19), must be "justewith justice, and the first way to do it isto hear, read, interpret it, to try tounderstand where it comes from, whatit wants of us, knowing that it does sothrough singular idioms...and alsoknowing that this justice alwaysaddresses itself to singularity, the sin-gularity of the other, despite or evenbecause it pretends to universality."(FL, 20; emphases mine) Hence,deconstruction confronts issues of jus-tice not as programme but as vigilance; "a responsibility before the very con-cept of responsibility that regulates thejustice and appropriateness (justesse)of our behaviour, of our theoretical,practical, ethico-political decisions".(FL, 20) He claims that this responsi-bility holds one in "a moment of sus-pense, this period of epoche, withoutwhich, in fact, deconstruction is notpossible".

He also suggests that this moment is"always full of anxiety" but consolessomewhat by rhetorically remarking,"but who will claim to be just by econ-omizing on anxiety?"(FL, 20; emphasismine). Such anxiety, Derrida seems tohave identified as / with the very forcethat moves and maintains the decon-structive enterprise with reference tothe question of justice; "For in the end,where will deconstruction find", heasks, "its force, its movement or itsmotivation if not in this always unsatis-fied appeal, beyond the given determi-nations of the what we call, in deter-mined contexts, justice, the possibility

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izability. Similarly, these very notionsof justice operate as and are articulat-ed through some form of rule determi-nation or legal system. Derrida claimsthat, "(a) decision that did'nt gothrough the ordeal of the undecidablewould not be a free decision, it wouldonly be the programmable applicationor unfolding of a calculable process. Itmight be legal; it is not just."(FL, 24)However, Derrida should not be mis-taken, as he has been by many of hiscritics, to be pointing to the impossibil-ity of decisions / judgements. It is use-ful to see the "undecidable" as thespace / spacing of justice that punctu-ates legal interpretation / decisionswith an "other", that is otherwise sup-pressed. It is an "acknowledgement ofotherness in sameness, of the extrale-gal in the legal". (Kearney, 1993:38)For Derrida, in fact, justice is thisspacing that allows for the "other".

Derrida states thus that "(t)here isapparently no moment in which a deci-sion can be called presently and fullyjust; either it has not yet been madeaccording to a rule, and nothing allowsus to call it just, or it has already fol-lowed a rule - whether received, con-firmed, conserved or reinvented -which in its turn is not absolutely guar-anteed by anything; and moreover, if itwere guaranteed, the decision wouldbe reduced to calculation and wecouldn't call it just." It is this thatnudges Derrida to claim that "theordeal of the undecidable...is neverpast or passed, it is not a surmountedor sublated (aufgehoben) moment inthe decision. The undecidable remainscaught, lodged, at least as a ghost...in

every decision, in every event of deci-sion. Its ghostliness deconstructs fromwithin any assurance of presence, anycertitude or any supposed criteriologythat would assure us of the justice ofthe decision." (Derrida, 1993:24-25)However, Derrida notes that this "infi-nite call to justice" is caught in con-stant conflict with the urgencydemanded of just / ethical action.While the infinite call to justiceinvolves one in some (necessary?)period of 'waiting', justice itself "cannotwait" insofar as "a just decision isalways required immediately, rightaway".(FL, 26)

This urgency that always frustratesand interrupts the cognitive / ethicaldeliberations entailed in matters of jus-tice is the third aporia highlighted byDerrida. Since it makes immediatedemands for justice, Derrida claims,the decision "cannot furnish itself withinfinite information and the unlimitedknowledge of conditions, rules orhypothetical imperatives that couldjustify it." In fact, even if all the neces-sary information could be gatheredand be at one's disposal, "the momentof decision, as such, always remains afinite moment of urgency and precipi-tation, since it must not be the conse-quence or the effect of this theoreticalor historical knowledge, of this reflec-tion or this deliberation, since it alwaysmarks the interruption of the juridico-or-ethico-or-politico-cognitive delibera-tion that precedes it, that must pre-cede it...a decision of urgency andprecipitation, acting in the night of non-knowledge and non-rule." (FL, 26)Derrida borrowing from Kierkegaard

of justice?." (p.20-21) Derrida con-ceives justice, thus, as that whichlodges itself into the legal machine asan "unsurpassable aporia" (Cornell,1992:133) that constantly de-con-structs it. A careful analysis of thisnotion of justice as aporia, is neces-sary before one can "judge" the ethicsof responsibility (and structure of deci-sion) Derrida derives from it.

Aporetic Justice

It has been shown thus far that, forDerrida, illegitimacy lurks at the originsof every law, insofar as nothing thatprecedes it could lend it legitimacy."The foundation of any and every lawis marked by an originary contamina-tion." (Kearney, 1993:35) His decon-structive stance as justice demands arecognition of this originary contami-nation; a recognition that helps pre-vent the justification of and reverentialadherence to some present norm asjustice. Derrida attempts to effect thisdeconstructive attitude as justice byidentifying aporia as fundamental tothe constitution and operation of jus-tice. For Derrida, a proper contentionwith the call of justice should be basedupon a "working through" of theseaporias, "between law and justice"with reference to which "deconstruc-tion finds its privileged site - or ratherits privileged instability." (FL, 21) Heidentifies "three examples of the oper-ational force of Justice as aporia."(Cornell, 1992:133) It would be usefulto provide a brief outline of each ofthese aporetic operations of justice.

First, Derrida introduces the aporia

between "epokhe" and rule. The onewho is called to judge always con-fronts an aporetic between the law /rule which unambiguously pre-scribeswhat the decision ought to be and thedemands of justice that advise /necessitate a "fresh" interpretation ofthe prescribed law vis a vis the speci-ficities of the case at hand. Derridaclaims that "(t)o be just, the decision ofa judge, for example, must not only fol-low a rule of law but must also assumeit, approve it, confirm its value, by areinstituting act of interpretation, as ifultimately nothing previously existed ofthe law, as if the judge himself invent-ed the law in every case." This "reinsti-tuting act of interpretation" is one thatcoheres with the pre-scribed rule with-out conforming to it insofar as it "sus-pends" (epokhe / epoche) it "enoughto reinvent it in each case, rejustify it,at least reinvent it in the reaffirmationand the new and free confirmation ofits principle." (FL, 23)

Second, is the aporia that issues fromwhat Derrida calls the "ghost of theundecidable". Derrida says that "(t)heundecidable is not merely the oscilla-tion or the tension between two deci-sions; it is the experience of thatwhich, though heterogeneous, foreignto the order of the calculable and therule, is still obliged...to give itself up tothe impossible decision while takingaccount of law and rules." (FL, 24)Here, the similarities and affinities withthe first aporia seem obvious. Legalprescription / decision is always prob-lamtized and even defined by somereference or other to issues of justicethat defy calculability and/or universal-

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says, "The instant of decision is amadness". (FL, 26), where the "mad-ness" suggests not the lack but impos-sibility of cognitive reference in thedecision. The moment of decisionthus infused by this "overflowing of theperformative" (FL, 27) advancesurgently and heterogeneous to knowl-edge, toward "a future which is notknown, which cannot be anticipated"(Derrida, 1994:38; emphasis mine).Thus, Derrida claims, "(j)usticeremains, is yet, to come, a venir, it hasan, it is a venir, the very dimension ofevents irreducibly to come." (FL, 27)For Derrida, it is excess and/or hetero-geneity that characterizes the horizonsof one's knowledge with reference tosome decision that ensures justice asa venir, as always-yet-to-come.

Anxious Justice

For Derrida, thus, an aporetic sensibil-ity toward justice demands a responsi-bility that is incalculable, heteroge-neous and infinite which frustrates clo-sure and stability. It is an ethics ofresponsibility that is constituted bytwin responsibilities to history and toalterity. Justice as aporia allows thespace within which the historical trans-formation and reinstitution of law canbe carried out. He characterises thisresponsibility toward history as one"without limits, and so necessarilyexcessive, incalculable, before memo-ry" which involves "the task of recallingthe history, the origin and subsequentdirections, thus the limits, of conceptsof justice, the law and right, of values,norms, and prescriptions that havebeen imposed and sedimented there,

from then on remaining more or lessreadable or presupposed." Thus forhim, "the task of a historical and inter-pretative memory is at the heart ofdeconstruction, not only as philologi-co-etymological task or the historian'stask but as responsibility in face of aheritage that is at the same time a her-itage of an imperative or of a sheaf ofinjunctions" (FL, 19; emphases mine)This stance, Derrida asserts, is notonly one toward what is given as one'sheritage but also with reference towhat is yet to come as one's future. AsBeardsworth notes, the aporetic expe-rience "allows the future to arrive as afuture (and not as a future present),and so it allows for the future of deci-sion (a future in which decisions can'take place' and decisions in which thefuture is not anticipated)".(Beardsworth, in Derrida, 1994:40) Derrida has also asserted elsewherethat deconstruction is an "opennesstowards the other" (Derrida, 1984:125)and insofar as this is true, the decon-structive stance that is justice, isequally an openness and responsibili-ty towards the other. In his "ThePolitics of Friendship", Derrida exam-ines the nature of responsibilitythrough the notion of "response" whichit derives from. "Responding alwayssupposes the other in the relation tooneself..."(Derrida, 1988:639) and assuch contains within itself the trace ofthe other, which discursively framesevery response as a response toand/or from the other. Kearney, arguesthat Derrida's ethics of responsibility is"decidedly Levinasian", especiallydrawing from Levinas' notion of "diffi-cile liberte", which conceives the sub-

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ject as hostage, constantly "beholdento the summons of the other".(Kearney, 1993a:8) Derrida says that,"(w)e are already caught surprised in acertain responsibility...(which) assignsus our freedom without leaving it withus...It is assigned to us by the other,from the other, before any hope ofreappropriation permits us to assumethis responsibility in the space of whatcould be called autonomy" (Derrida,1988:634) It is thus, a responsibilitythat forever defies one's assumption ofan autonomous realm of subjectivefreedom. This "primordial indebted-ness to the other" (Kearney, 1993:38)is justice that "operates on the basis ofan 'infinite idea of justice', infinitebecause it is irreducible, irreduciblebecause owed to the other, owed tothe other, before any contract,because it has come, the other's com-ing as the singularity that is alwaysother." (FL, 25) The stress on "infinity",obviously deriving from Levinas, isposited as an antithesis to "totality",whereby the (metaphysical) closureentailed (effected) by the latter is sub-verted by the "openness" of the for-mer. It is this infinity that constitutesthe aporetic that is justice, that isdeconstruction, which thus allows fortransformation and movementwithin/of the legal machine.

He claims that such constant interro-gation of the "origins, grounds and lim-its of our conceptual, theoretical ornormative apparatus surrounding jus-tice is on deconstruction's part any-thing but a neutralization of interest injustice, an insensitivity toward injus-tice", for "on the contrary, it hyperboli-

cally raises the stakes of exacting jus-tice". Deconstruction thus assumes a(re)new(ed) sensitivity to an "essentialdisproportion that must inscribeexcess and inadequation in itself" and"strives to denounce not only theoreti-cal limits but also concrete injus-tices...in the good conscience thatdogmatically stops before any inherit-ed determination of justice."(FL, 20;emphases mine) This "stoppingbefore" some (any?) "inherited" notionof justice, before that which otherwise(in fact, being not wise to/of "theother") threatens to reduce decision to"nothing but the mechanical applica-tion of a rule" (Derrida, 1994:38),forces one to pass through an experi-ence of the aporetic, of the undecid-able in the coming to a decision. ForDerrida, the responsibilities of justaction and decision are necessarilyantithetical to an economizing on thisanxiety, since decision derives from apassage through and constant con-tention with the singularity of thoseanxiety-ridden moments always co-implied in/by it.

Butchers and Policemen

While recounting his encounter withKurtz, an errant agent of the Belgiancolonial regime in the Congo, who hadin his dealings with the natives theremoved "beyond the bounds of permit-ted aspirations", Marlow in utter frus-tration with the empty stares of hisaudience, cries,

"You can't understand. How couldyou? - with solid pavement under yourfeet, surrounded by kind neighbours

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Madison, Gary B. (ed.) (1993) Working ThroughDerrida. Northwestern University Press

McKenna, Andrew J. (1992). Violence andDifference : Girard, Derrida, andDeconstruction. University of Illinois Press

Pascal, Blaise. (1966) Pensees. Trans. A.J.Krailsheimer. Penguin Books

Taylor, Mark C. (1993) Nots. University ofChicago Press

Wigley, Mark. (1993) The Architecture ofDeconstruction. MIT Press.

Willett, Cynthia. (1992) "Partial Attachments: ADeconstructive Model of Responsibility." InArleen B. Dallery, Charles E. Scott and P. HalleyRoberts (eds.), Ethics and Danger : Essays inHeidegger and Continental Thought. StateUniversity of New York Press; p.273-281

Wolin, Sheldon S. (1993) "Democracy,Difference and Re-Cognition", Political Theory,Vol.21 (no.3); p.464-483

Wood, David C. (1980) "Derrida and TheParadoxes of Reflection", in Journal of BritishSociety for Phenomenology, Vol 11; (p.225-238)

Zizek, Slavoj. (1991) For They Know Not WhatThey Do: Enjoyment as a Political Factor. Verso

Works by Derrida Cited (cited in text with abbre-viations in parentheses)

(1976) Of Grammatology. Trans. GayatriChakaravorty Spivak. John Hopskins UniversityPress (OG)

(1978) "Force and Signification." Trans. AlanBass. In Jacques Derrida, Writing andDifference. University of Chicago; p.3-30 (FS)

(1978) "Violence and Metaphysics: An Essay onEmmanuel Levinas." Trans. Alan Bass. InJacques Derrida, Writing and Difference.University of Chicago Press; p.79-153 (VM)

(1978) "Cogito and the History of Madness."Trans. Alan Bass. In Jacques Derrida, Writingand Difference. University of Chicago Press;

p.31-63 (CHM)

(1982) "The Ends of Man." Trans. Alan Bass. InJacques Derrida, Margins of Philosophy.University of Chicago Press; p.109-136 (EM)

(1982) "Differance." Trans. Alan Bass. InJacques Derrida, Margins of Philosophy.University of Chicago Press; p.1-27

(1984) "Deconstruction and the Other." InRichard Kearney, (ed.), Dialogues withContemporary Continental Philosophers.Manchester University Press; p.105-126 (DO)

(1986) "Declarations of Independence." Trans.Tom Keenan and Tom Pepper. New PoliticalScience, no.15; p.7-15

(1988) "Afterword: Toward an Ethic ofDiscussion." Trans. Samuel Weber. In JacquesDerrida, Limited Inc. Northwestern UniversityPress, 1988; p.111-160

(1988) "The Politics of Friendship." Journal ofPhilosophy, Vol. 75, no.11; p.632-645

(1989) Of Spirit : Heidegger and the Question.Trans. Geoff Bennington and Rachel Bowlbey.Chicago University Press

(1989) "A Discussion with Jacques Derrida."Writing Instructor, Vol.9, No. 1/2; p.7-18

(1992) "Before the Law." Trans. Avital Ronelland Christine Roulston. In Derek Atridge, (ed.),Acts Of Literature. Routledge; p.181-220 (BTL)

(1992) The Other Heading: Reflections onToday's Europe. Trans. Pascale-Anne Braultand Michael Naas. Indiana University Press(OH)

(1993) "The Force Of Law: The MysticalFoundation of Authority." Trans. MaryQuaintance. In Drucilla Cornell, MichaelRosenfeld and David Gray Carlson (eds.)Deconstruction and The Possibility of Justice.Routledge; p.3-67 (FL)

(1994) "Nietzsche and the Machine : Interviewwith Jacques Derrida" by Richard Beardsworth,in Journal Of Nietzsche Studies, Issue 7; p.7-66(NM)

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ready to cheer you or to fall on you,stepping delicately between the butch-er and policeman, in the holy terror ofscandal, gallows and lunatic asy-lums...These little things make all thegreat difference. When they are goneyou must fall back on your own innatestrength, upon your own capacity forfaithfulness." (Conrad, Heart OfDarkness, 1983:85; emphases mine)

His, is a frustration born, not only fromhis own inability to adequately articu-late his extraordinary experiences, butalso from a realisation that the life sit-uations and experiences of his audi-ence made his own experiencesalmost incommensurable. The com-fort, coherence and happy complacen-cy of his audience's (as of our)"civilised" lives where the daily anxi-eties and responsibilities of killingwhat was to become food at one’stable and of handling social relation-ships, not always free from conflict,had been "handed over" to the butcherand the policeman respectively, wasfor Marlow the very things that madehis experiences inscrutable to them. Infact, "civilisation" and "culture", are itseems, nothing but the institution-alised circumvention and/or deferral ofresponsibilities; an economizing onthe anxieties that constantly problema-tize life's many decisions / actions. Adeferral and displacement of responsi-bilities to the other; other occasionsand other vocations. The challenges ofan aporetic justice are to be ever vigi-lant to the comforts afforded by theeconomy of anxiety that is law; of thefounding origin that defers justice.

BIBLIOGRAPHY

Bernasconi, Robert. (1993) Heidegger InQuestion: The Art of Existing. Humanities Press

Bernstein, Richard J. (1993) "An Allegory ofModernity / Postmodernity: Habermas andDerrida", in Gary B. Madison (ed.) WorkingThrough Derrida. Northwestern UniversityPress; p.204-229

Bloch, Ernst. (1991) Natural Law and HumanDignity. MIT Press

Caputo, John D. (1987) Radical Hermeneutics:Repetition, Deconstruction and the HermeneuticProject. Indiana University Press

Conrad, Joseph. (1983) Heart of Darkness.Penguin

Cornell, Drucilla. (1993) "The Violence ofMasquerade: Law Dressed Up as Justice", inGary B. Madison (ed.) Working ThroughDerrida. Northwestern University Press; p.77-93

Dumouchel, Paul (ed.) (1988). Violence andTruth : On the Works of Rene Girard. StanfordUniversity Press

Girard, Rene. (1978) Violence and the Sacred.Trans. Patrick Gregory. Johns HopkinsUniversity Press.

Girard, Rene. (1986) The Scapegoat. Trans.Yvonne Freccero. Johns Hopkins UniversityPress.

Hammerton-Kelly, Robert, (ed.) (1987) ViolentOrigins : Walter Burkert, Rene Girard andJonathan Z. Smith on Ritual Killing and CulturalFormation. Stanford University Press.

Kearney, Richard. (1993) "Derrida's Ethical Re-Turn", in Gary B. Madison (ed.), WorkingThrough Derrida. Northwestern UniversityPress; p.28-50

Kearney, Richard. (1993) "Derrida and theEthics of Dialogue." in Philosophy and SocialCriticism, Vol.19 (no.1); p.1-14

Kierkegaard, Soren. (1980) The Concept ofAnxiety. Princeton University Press.

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emphasize enough the fact of Lenin'sexternality with regard to Marx: he wasnot a member of Marx's "inner circle" ofthe initiated, he never met either Marxor Engels; moreover, he came from aland at the Eastern borders of"European civilization." (This externali-ty is part of the standard Western racistargument against Lenin: he introducedinto Marxism the Russian-Asiatic"despotic principle"; in one remove fur-ther, Russians themselves disown him,pointing towards his Tatar origins.) It isonly possible to retrieve the theory'soriginal impulse from this external posi-tion, in exactly the same way St Paul,who formulated the basic tenets ofChristianity, was not part of Christ'sinner circle, and Lacan accomplishedhis "return to Freud" using as a lever-age a totally distinct theoretical tradi-tion. (Freud was aware of this necessi-ty, which is why he put his trust in Jungas a non-Jew, an outsider - to break outof the Jewish initiatic community. Hischoice was bad, because Jungian the-ory functioned in itself as initiaticWisdom; it was Lacan who succeededwhere Jung failed.) So, in the sameway St Paul and Lacan reinscribe theoriginal teaching into a different context(St Paul reinterprets Christ's crucifixionas his triumph; Lacan reads Freudthrough the mirror-stage Saussure),Lenin violently displaces Marx, tearshis theory out of its original context,planting it in another historical moment,and thus effectively universalizes it.

Second, it is only through such a vio-lent displacement that the "original"theory can be put to work, fulfilling itspotential of political intervention. It issignificant that the work in which

Lenin's unique voice was for the firsttime clearly heard is What Is To BeDone? - the text which exhibits Lenin'sunconditional will to intervene into thesituation, not in the pragmatic sense of"adjusting the theory to the realisticclaims through necessary compromis-es," but, on the contrary, in the sense ofdispelling all opportunistic compromis-es, of adopting the unequivocal radicalposition from which it is only possible tointervene in such a way that our inter-vention changes the coordinates of thesituation. The contrast is here clearwith regard to today's Third Way "post-politics," which emphasizes the need toleave behind old ideological divisionsand to confront new issues, armed withthe necessary expert knowledge andfree deliberation that takes into accountconcrete people's needs and demands.

As such, Lenin's politics is the truecounterpoint not only to the Third Waypragmatic opportunism, but also to themarginalist Leftist attitude of whatLacan called le narcissisme de lachose perdue. What a true Leninist anda political conservative have in com-mon is the fact that they reject whatone could call liberal Leftist "irresponsi-bility" (advocating grand projects of sol-idarity, freedom, etc., yet ducking outwhen one has to pay the price for it inthe guise of concrete and often "cruel"political measures): like an authenticconservative, a true Leninist is nowafraid to pass to the act, to assume allthe consequences, unpleasant as theymay be, of realizing his political project.Rudyard Kipling (whom Brechtadmired) despised British liberals whoadvocated freedom and justice, whilesilently counting on the Conservatives

Can Lenin Tell Us About Freedom Today?

Today, even the self-proclaimed post-Marxist radicals endorse the gapbetween ethics and politics, relegatingpolitics to the domain of doxa, of prag-matic considerations and compromiseswhich always and by definition fall shortof the unconditional ethical demand.The notion of a politics which would nothave been a series of mere pragmaticinterventions, but the politics of Truth,is dismissed as "totalitarian." Thebreaking out of this deadlock, thereassertion of a politics of Truth today,should take the form of a return toLenin. Why Lenin, why not simplyMarx? Is the proper return not thereturn to origins proper? Today, "return-ing to Marx" is already a minor aca-demic fashion. Which Marx do we getin these returns? On the one hand, theCultural Studies Marx, the Marx of thepostmodern sophists, of the Messianicpromise; on the other hand, the Marxwho foretold the dynamic of today'sglobalization and is as such evokedeven on Wall Street. What these bothMarxes have in common is the denial ofpolitics proper; the reference to Leninenables us to avoid these two pitfalls.

There are two features which distin-guish his intervention. First, one cannot

by Slavoj Zizekˇ ˇ

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constellation to a closed, fully contextu-alized, situation in which the "objective"consequences of one's acts are fullydetermined ("independently of yourintentions, what you are doing nowobjectively serves..."); secondly, theposition of enunciation of such state-ments usurp the right to decide whatyours acts "objectively mean," so thattheir apparent "objectivism" (the focuson "objective meaning") is the form ofappearance of its opposite, the thor-ough subjectivism: I decide what youracts objectively mean, since I definethe context of a situation (say, if I con-ceive of my power as the immediateequivalent/expression of the power ofthe working class, than everyone whoopposes me is "objectively" an enemyof the working class). Against this fullcontextualization, one should empha-size that freedom is "actual" preciselyand only as the capacity to "transcend"the coordinates of a given situation, to"posit the presuppositions" of one'sactivity (as Hegel would have put it),i.e. to redefine the very situation withinwhich one is active. Furthermore, asmany a critic pointed out, the very term"Really Existing Socialism," although itwas coined in order to assertSocialism's success, is in itself a proofof Socialism's utter failure, i.e. of thefailure of the attempt to legitimizeSocialist regimes - the term "ReallyExisting Socialism" popped up at thehistorical moment when the only legit-imizing reason for Socialism was amere fact that it exists...

Is this, however, the whole story? Howdoes freedom effectively function in lib-eral democracies themselves?Although Clinton's presidency epito-

mizes the Third Way of the today's (ex-)Left succumbing to the Rightist ideo-logical blackmail, his healthcare reformprogram would nonetheless amount toa kind of act, at least in today's condi-tions, since it would have been basedon the rejection of the hegemonicnotions of the need to curtail Big Stateexpenditure and administration - in away, it would "do the impossible." Nowonder, than, that it failed: its failure -perhaps the only significant, althoughnegative, event of Clinton's presidency- bears witness to the material force ofthe ideological notion of "free choice."That is to say, although the large major-ity of the so-called "ordinary people"were not properly acquainted with thereform program, the medical lobby(twice as strong as the infamousdefense lobby!) succeeded in imposingon the public the fundamental idea that,with the universal healthcare, the freechoice (in matters concerning medi-cine) will be somehow threatened -against this purely fictional reference to"free choice", all enumeration of "hardfacts" (in Canada, healthcare is lessexpensive and more effective, with noless free choice, etc.) proved ineffec-tive.

We are here at the very nerve center ofthe liberal ideology: the freedom ofchoice, grounded in the notion of the"psychological" subject endowed whichpropensities s/he strives to realize. Andthis especially holds today, in the era ofwhat sociologists like Ulrich Beck call"risk society," 3 when the ruling ideologyendeavors to sell us the very insecuritycaused by the dismantling of theWelfare State as the opportunity fornew freedoms: you have to change job

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to do the necessary dirty work for them;the same can be said for the liberalLeftist's (or "democratic Socialist's")relationship towards LeninistCommunists: liberal Leftists reject theSocial Democratic "compromise," theywant a true revolution, yet they shirkthe actual price to be paid for it andthus prefer to adopt the attitude of aBeautiful Soul and to keep their handsclean. In contrast to this false radicalLeftist's position (who want truedemocracy for the people, but withoutthe secret police to fight counterrevolu-tion, without their academic privilegesbeing threatened), a Leninist, like aConservative, is authentic in the senseof fully assuming the consequences ofhis choice, i.e. of being fully aware ofwhat it actually means to take powerand to exert it.

The return to Lenin is the endeavor toretrieve the unique moment when athought already transposes itself into acollective organization, but does notyet fix itself into an Institution (theestablished Church, the IPA, theStalinist Party-State). It aims neither atnostalgically reenacting the "good oldrevolutionary times," nor at the oppor-tunistic-pragmatic adjustment of the oldprogram to "new conditions," but atrepeating, in the present world-wideconditions, the Leninist gesture of initi-ating a political project that wouldundermine the totality of the global lib-eral-capitalist world order, and, further-more, a project that would unabashed-ly assert itself as acting on behalf oftruth, as intervening in the presentglobal situation from the standpoint ofits repressed truth. What Christianitydid with regard to the Roman Empire,

this global "multiculturalist" polity, weshould do with regard to today'sEmpire.1 How, then, do things standwith freedom? In a polemic against theMenshevik's critics of the Bolshevikpower in 1920, Lenin answered theclaim of one of the critics - "So, gentle-men Bolsheviks, since, before theRevolution and your seizure of power,you pleaded for democracy and free-dom, be so kind as to permit us now topublish a critique of your measures!" -with the acerbic: "Of course, gentle-men, you have all the freedom to pub-lish this critique - but, then, gentlemen,be so kind as to allow us to line you upthe wall and shoot you!" This Leninistfreedom of choice - not "Life or money!"but "Life or critique!" -, combined withLenin's dismissive attitude towards the"liberal" notion of freedom, accounts forhis bad reputation among liberals.Their case largely rests upon theirrejection of the standard Marxist-Leninist opposition of "formal" and"actual" freedom: as even Leftist liber-als like Claude Lefort emphasize againand again, freedom is in its very notion"formal," so that "actual freedom"equals the lack of freedom.2 That is tosay, with regard to freedom, Lenin isbest remembered for his famous retort"Freedom - yes, but for WHOM? To doWHAT?" - for him, in the above-quotedcase of the Mensheviks, their "free-dom" to criticize the Bolshevik govern-ment effectively amounted to "freedom"to undermine the workers' and peas-ants' government on behalf of the coun-terrevolution... Is today, after the terrify-ing experience of the Really ExistingSocialism, not more than obvious inwhat the fault of this reasoningresides? First, it reduces a historical

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he will do it, and then rationalize it byway of saying to himself something like:"What I am asked to do IS disgusting,but I am not a coward, I should displaysome courage and self-control, other-wise scientists will perceive me as aweak person who pulls out at the firstminor obstacle! Furthermore, a wormdoes have a lot of proteins and it couldeffectively be used to feed the poor -who am I to hinder such an importantexperiment because of my petty sensi-tivity? And, finally, maybe my disgust ofworms is just a prejudice, maybe aworm is not so bad - and would tastingit not be a new and daring experience?What if it will enable me to discover anunexpected, slightly perverse, dimen-sion of myself that I was hithertounaware of?"

Beauvois enumerates three modes ofwhat brings people to accomplish suchan act which runs against their per-ceived propensities and/or interests:authoritarian (the pure command "Youshould do it because I say so, withoutquestioning it!", sustained by thereward if the subject does it and thepunishment if he does not do it), totali-tarian (the reference to some higherCause or common Good which is larg-er than the subject's perceived interest:"You should do it because, even if it isunpleasant, it serves our Nation, Party,Humanity!"), and liberal (the referenceto the subject's inner nature itself:"What is asked of you may appearrepulsive, but look deep into yourselfand you will discover that it's in yourtrue nature to do it, you will find itattractive, you will become aware ofnew, unexpected, dimensions of yourpersonality!"). At this point, Beauvois

should be corrected: a direct authoritar-ianism is practically inexistent - eventhe most oppressive regime publiclylegitimizes its reign with the referenceto some Higher Good, and the fact that,ultimately, "you have to obey because Isay so" reverberates only as itsobscene supplement discerniblebetween the lines. It is rather the speci-ficity of the standard authoritarianism torefer to some higher Good ("whateveryour inclinations are, you have to followmy order for the sake of the higherGood!"), while totalitarianism, like liber-alism, interpellates the subject onbehalf of HIS OWN good ("what mayappear to you as an external pressure,is really the expression of your objec-tive interests, of what you REALLYWANT without being aware of it!"). Thedifference between the two resideselsewhere: "totalitarianism" imposes onthe subject his/her own good, even if itis against his/her will - recall KingCharles' (in)famous statement: "If anyshall be so foolishly unnatural as tooppose their king, their country andtheir own good, we will make themhappy, by God's blessing - evenagainst their wills."(Charles I to the Earlof Essex, 6 August 1644) Here wealready encounter have the laterJacobin theme of happiness as a politi-cal factor, as well as the Saint-Justianidea of forcing people to be happy...Liberalism tries to avoid (or, rather,cover up) this paradox by way of cling-ing to the end to the fiction of the sub-ject's immediate free self-perception ("Idon't claim to know better than youwhat you want - just look deep intoyourself and decide freely what youwant!").

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every year, relying on short-term con-tracts instead of a long-term stableappointment? Why not see it as the lib-eration from the constraints of a fixedjob, as the chance to reinvent yourselfagain and again, to become aware ofand realize hidden potentials of yourpersonality? You can no longer rely onthe standard health insurance andretirement plan, so that you have to optfor additional coverage for which youhave to pay? Why not perceive it as anadditional opportunity to choose: eitherbetter life now or long-term security?And if this predicament causes youanxiety, the postmodern or "secondmodernity" ideologist will immediatelyaccuse you of being unable to assumefull freedom, of the "escape from free-dom," of the immature sticking to oldstable forms... Even better, when this isinscribed into the ideology of the sub-ject as the psychological individualpregnant with natural abilities and ten-dencies, then I as if were automaticallyinterpret all these changes as theresults of my personality, not as theresult of me being thrown around by themarket forces.

Phenomena like these make it all themore necessary today to REASSERTthe opposition of "formal" and "actual"freedom in a new, more precise, sense.What we need today, in the era of theliberal hegemony, is a "Leninist" traitede la servitude liberale, a new versionof la Boetie's Traite de la servitudevolontaire that would fully justify theapparent oxymoron "liberal totalitarian-ism." In experimental psychology,Jean-Leon Beauvois did the first step inthis direction, with his precise explo-ration of the paradoxes of conferring on

the subject the freedom to choose.4

Repeated experiments established thefollowing paradox: if, AFTER gettingfrom two groups of volunteers theagreement to participate in an experi-ment, one informs them that the exper-iment will involve something unpleas-ant, against their ethics even, and if, atthis point, one reminds the first groupthat they have the free choice to sayno, and one says to the other groupnothing, in BOTH groups, the SAME(very high) percentage will agree tocontinue their participation in theexperiment. What this means is thatconferring the formal freedom of choicedoes not make any difference: thosegiven the freedom will do the samething as those (implicitly) denied it.This, however, does not mean that thereminder/bestowal of the freedom ofchoice does not make any difference:those given the freedom to choice willnot only tend to choose the same asthose denied it; on the top of it, they willtend to "rationalize" their "free" deci-sion to continue to participate in theexperiment - unable to endure the so-called cognitive dissonance (theirawareness that they FREELY actedagainst their interests, propensities,tastes or norms), they will tend tochange their opinion about the act theywere asked to accomplish. Let us saythat an individual is first asked to partic-ipate in an experiment that concernschanging the eating habits in order tofight against famine; then, after agree-ing to do it, at the first encounter in thelaboratory, he will be asked to swallowa living worm, with the explicit reminderthat, if he finds this act repulsive, hecan, of course, say no, since he has thefull freedom to choose. In most cases,

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choose to change this set of coordi-nates itself. The catch of the "transi-tion" from the Really Existing Socialismto capitalism was that people never hadthe chance to choose the ad quem ofthis transition - all of a sudden, theywere (almost literally) "thrown" into anew situation in which they were pre-sented with a new set of given choices(pure liberalism, nationalist conser-vatism...). What this means is that the"actual freedom" as the act of con-sciously changing this set occurs onlywhen, in the situation of a forcedchoice, one ACTS AS IF THE CHOICEIS NOT FORCED and "chooses theimpossible."

Did something homologous to theinvention of the liberal psychologicalindividual not take place in the SovietUnion in the late 20s and early 30s?The Russian avant-garde art of theearly 20s (futurism, constructivism) notonly zealously endorsed industrializa-tion, it even endeavored to reinvent anew industrial man - no longer the oldman of sentimental passions and rootsin traditions, but the new man whogladly accepts his role as a bolt orscrew in the gigantic coordinatedindustrial Machine. As such, it was sub-versive in its very "ultra-orthodoxy," i.e.in its over-identification with the core ofthe official ideology: the image of manthat we get in Eisenstein, Meyerhold,constructivist paintings, etc., empha-sizes the beauty of his/her mechanicalmovements, his/her thorough depsy-chologization. What was perceived inthe West as the ultimate nightmare ofliberal individualism, as the ideologicalcounterpoint to the "Taylorization," tothe Fordist ribbon-work, was in Russia

hailed as the utopian prospect of liber-ation: recall how Meyerhold violentlyasserted the "behaviorist" approach toacting - no longer emphatic familiariza-tion with the person the actor is playing,but the ruthless bodily training aimed atthe cold bodily discipline, at the abilityof the actor to perform the series ofmechanized movements...5 THIS iswhat was unbearable to AND IN theofficial Stalinist ideology, so that theStalinist "socialist realism" effectivelyWAS an attempt to reassert a"Socialism with a human face," i.e. toreinscribe the process of industrializa-tion into the constraints of the tradition-al psychological individual: in theSocialist Realist texts, paintings andfilms, individuals are no longer ren-dered as parts of the global Machine,but as warm passionate persons.

The obvious reproach that imposesitself here is, of course: is the basiccharacteristic of today's "postmodern"subject not the exact opposite of thefree subject who experienced himselfas ultimately responsible for his fate,namely the subject who grounds theauthority of his speech on his status ofa victim of circumstances beyond hiscontrol. Every contact with anotherhuman being is experienced as apotential threat - if the other smokes, ifhe casts a covetous glance at me, healready hurts me); this logic of victim-ization is today universalized, reachingwell beyond the standard cases of sex-ual or racist harassment - recall thegrowing financial industry of payingdamage claims, from the tobaccoindustry deal in the USA and the finan-cial claims of the holocaust victims andforced laborers in the Nazi Germany,

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The reason for this fault in Beauvois'sline of argumentation is that he fails torecognize how the abyssal tautologicalauthority ("It is so because I say so!" ofthe Master) does not work onlybecause of the sanctions(punishment/reward) it implicitly orexplicitly evokes. That is to say, what,effectively, makes a subject freelychoose what is imposed on him againsthis interests and/or propensities? Here,the empirical inquiry into "pathological"(in the Kantian sense of the term) moti-vations is not sufficient: the enunciationof an injunction that imposeson its addressee a symbolic engage-ment/commitment evinces an inherentforce of its own, so that what seducesus into obeying it is the very featurethat may appear to be an obstacle - theabsence of a "why." Here, Lacan canbe of some help: the Lacanian "Master-Signifier" designates precisely this hyp-notic force of the symbolic injunctionwhich relies only on its own act ofenunciation - it is here that weencounter "symbolic efficiency" at itspurest. The three ways of legitimizingthe exercise of authority ("authoritari-an," "totalitarian," "liberal") are nothingbut the three ways to cover up, to blindus for the seductive power of, theabyss of this empty call. In a way, liber-alism is here even the worst of thethree, since it NATURALIZES the rea-sons for obedience into the subject'sinternal psychological structure. So theparadox is that "liberal" subjects are ina way those least free: they change thevery opinion/perception of themselves,accepting what was IMPOSED on themas originating in their "nature" - they areeven no longer AWARE of their subor-dination.

Let us take the situation in the EasternEuropean countries around 1990, whenthe Really Existing Socialism wasfalling apart: all of a sudden, peoplewere thrown into a situation of the"freedom of political choice" - however,were they REALLY at any point askedthe fundamental question of what kindof knew order they actually wanted? Isit not that they found themselves in theexact situation of the subject-victim of aBeauvois experiment? They were firsttold that they are entering the promisedland of political freedom; then, soonafterwards, they were informed that thisfreedom involves wild privatization, thedismantling of the social security,etc.etc. - they still have the freedom tochoose, so if they want, they can stepout; but, no, our heroic EasternEuropeans didn't want to disappointtheir Western tutors, they stoically per-sisted in the choice they never made,convincing themselves that they shouldbehave as mature subjects who areaware that freedom has its price... Thisis why the notion of the psychologicalsubject endowed with natural propensi-ties, who has to realize its true Self andits potentials, and who is, consequent-ly, ultimately responsible for his failureor success, is the key ingredient of theliberal freedom. And here one shouldrisk to reintroduce the Leninist opposi-tion of "formal" and "actual" freedom: inan act of actual freedom, one daresprecisely to BREAK this seductivepower of the symbolic efficiency.Therein resides the moment of truth ofLenin's acerbic retort to his Menshevikcritics: the truly free choice is a choicein which I do not merely choosebetween two or more options WITHIN apre-given set of coordinates, but I

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Notes

1. See Michael Hardt and AntonioNegri, Empire, Cambridge: HarvardUniversity Press 2000.

2. See Claude Lefort, Democracy andPolitical Theory, Minneapolis:Minnesota University Press 1988.

3. See Ulrich Beck, Risk Society:Towards a New Modernity, London:Sage 1992.

4. See Jean-Leon Beauvois, Traite dela servitude liberale. Analyse de lasoumission, Paris: Dunod 1994.

5. See Chapters 2 and 3 of SusanBuck-Morss, Dreamworld andCatastrophe, Cambridge (Ma): MITPress 2000.

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up to the idea that the USA should paythe African-Americans hundreds of bil-lions of dollars for all they weredeprived of due to their past slavery...This notion of the subject as an irre-sponsible victim involves the extremeNarcissistic perspective from whichevery encounter with the Other appearsas a potential threat to the subject'sprecarious imaginary balance; as such,it is not the opposite, but, rather, theinherent supplement of the liberal freesubject: in today's predominant form ofindividuality, the self-centered asser-tion of the psychological subject para-doxically overlaps with the perceptionof oneself as a victim of circumstances.

The case of Muslims as an ethnic, notmerely religious, group in Bosnia isexemplary here: during the entire histo-ry of Yugoslavia, Bosnia was the placeof potential tension and dispute, thelocale in which the struggle betweenSerbs and Croats for the dominant rolewas fought. The problem was that thelargest group in Bosnia were neitherthe Orthodox Serbs nor the CatholicCroats, but Muslims whose ethnic ori-gins were always disputed - are theySerbs or Croats. (This role of Bosniaeven left a trace in idiom: in all ex-Yugoslav nations, the expression "SoBosnia is quiet!" was used in order tosignal that any threat of a conflict wassuccessfully defused.) In order to fore-stall this focus of potential (and actual)conflicts, the ruling Communistimposed in the 60s a miraculously sim-ple invention: they proclaimed Muslimsan autochthonous ETHNIC community,not just a religious group, so thatMuslims were able to avoid the pres-sure to identify themselves either as

Serbs or as Croats. What was so in thebeginning a pragmatic political artifice,gradually caught on, Muslims effective-ly started to perceive themselves as anation, systematically manufacturingtheir tradition, etc. However, eventoday, there remains an element of areflected choice in their identity: duringthe post-Yugoslav war in Bosnia, onewas ultimately forced to CHOOSEhis/her ethnic identity - when a militiastopped a person, asking him/herthreateningly "Are you a Serb or aMuslim?", the question did not refer tothe inherited ethnic belonging, i.e.there was always in it an echo of"Which side did you choose?" (say, themovie director Emir Kusturica, comingfrom an ethnically mixed Muslim-Serbfamily, has chosen the Serb identity).Perhaps, the properly FRUSTRATINGdimension of this choice is best ren-dered by the situation of having tochoose a product in on-line shopping,where one has to make the almost end-less series of choices: if you want itwith X, press A, if not, press B... Theparadox is that what is thoroughlyexcluded in these post-traditional"reflexive societies," in which we are allthe time bombarded with the urge tochoose, in which even such "natural"features as sexual orientation and eth-nic identification are experienced as amatter of choice, is the basic, authen-tic, choice itself.

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If we examine today what has beendemocracy answer to that challenge Ithink that there are not many reasons tobe optimistic. Socialist and social- dem-ocratic parties have been steadily mov-ing towards the right, redefining them-selves euphemistically as “center-left”.Under the pretense of “modernizing”social democracy, what they are doingis abandoning the struggle for equalitywhich has always been central for theleft. We could even say they are well onthe way to liquidate the left project alto-gether. There is of course some irony inthe fact that, at the very moment whensocial democracy should have beenvictorious against its old antagonist, ithas been dragged into its collapse.Indeed, the outcome of the crisis ofcommunism has undoubtedly been thereinforcement and generalization of theneo-liberal hegemony.

This indicates that a great opportunityhas been lost for democratic politics.Since 1989 the possibility existed tobegin thinking seriously about thenature of democratic politics, in a wayunencumbered by the mortgage whichthe communist system had representedbefore. It had become possible to rede-fine democracy in function of what itstands for and not only in opposition towhat it was against, i.e Communism.There was a real chance for a radical-ization of the democratic projectbecause traditional political frontiershad collapsed and they could havebeen redrawn in a more progressiveway.

However this is not what has happened

. Instead we have been told about “theend of history”, the disappearance ofantagonism and the possibility of a pol-itics without frontiers, without a “them”;a “win-win politics” in which solutionscould be found that favor everybody insociety. This is of course the basic tenetof the so-called third way, which claimsthat with the demise of communism andthe socio-economic transformation ofsociety linked to the advent of the infor-mation society and to the phenomenonof globalization, the adversarial modelof politics has become obsolete. Itadvocates a politics “beyond left andright”, a politics not any more structuredaround social division, and without theus/them opposition. The anti-capitalistelement which had always been pres-ent in social democracy - both in its rightwing and left wing variant- has nowbeen eradicated from its supposedlymodernized version. It is as if the prob-lems to which communism was trying togive a solution had suddenly disap-peared along with that system.

The usual justification for the “there isno alternative dogma” is of course glob-alization. Indeed the argument oftenrehearsed against redistributive typesocial democratic policies is that thetight fiscal constraints faced by govern-ments are the only realistic possibility ina world where global markets would notallow any deviation from neo-liberalorthodoxy. This kind of argument takesfor granted the ideological terrain whichhas been established as a result ofyears of neo-liberal hegemony andtransforms what is a conjunctural stateof affairs into an historical necessity.

The Bipolar World Has Ended.What Comes After?

I am going to approach the question ofthe post-communist condition from aspecific point of view . I will enquireabout the consequences of the collapseof communism in two specific areas: thefate of left-wing politics on one side andthe evolution of international politics onthe other. On both cases I intend tobring to the fore the fact that, contrary towhat so many liberals expected, farfrom bringing about the end of theantagonistic form of politics, the post-communist condition is characterizedby the emergence of new antagonisms.

Let me begin by reminding you of awarning of Norberto Bobbio who writingin La Stampa in June 1989 pointed outthat the crisis of Communism presentedthe affluent democracies with a realchallenge. Will they be capable of solv-ing the problems to which that systemproved incapable of providing solu-tions? In his view it was dangerous toimagine that the defeat of Communismhad put an end to poverty and the long-ing for justice. “Democracy, he wrote,has admittedly come out on top in thebattle with historical communism. Butwhat resources and ideals does it pos-sess with which to confront those prob-lems that gave rise to the communistchallenge?”

by Chantal Mouffe

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scorned as retrograde by the moderniz-ing elites and to present themselves asthe only anti-Establishment forces rep-resenting the will of the people.Contrary to the center-left, those partiesunderstand perfectly well that politicsimplies the drawing of frontiers, that itcannot do without the oppositionbetween us and them and they havebeen actively redrawing those frontiers.Of course in a way that are unaccept-able for a democratic pluralist society,since it is being done through the stir-ring of xenophobia, with the immigrantsbeing cast as the “them”.

I submit that it is urgent for the left tocome to terms with the shortcomings ofthe consensual politics of the third wayand to begin redrawing political frontiersin a way which would be conducive to aradicalization of democracy. There can-not be a radical politics without the def-inition of an adversary because to beradical - as Margareth Thatcher con-trary to Tony Blair very well knew- is toaim at a profound transformation of therelations of power, at the creation of adifferent hegemony. One of the mainproblems nowadays is that the comingto terms by the left with the importanceof pluralism and of liberal democraticinstitutions has been accompanied bythe mistaken belief that this meantabandoning any attempt to transformthe present hegemonic order. Hencethe sacralisation of consensus, the blur-ring of the frontiers between left andright and the move towards the centerBut this is to miss a crucial point, not

only about the primary reality of strife insocial life, but also about the integrative

role which conflict plays in moderndemocracy. Indeed the specificity ofmodern democracy lies in the recogni-tion and the legitimation of conflict andthe refusal to suppress it through theimposition of an authoritarian order. Ademocratic society must thereforemake room for the expression of con-flicting interests and values, it must pro-vide the institutions which will allow forwhat I have proposed to call an “agonis-tic” confrontation.

There is, I believe, a main lesson thatthe left should draw from the failure ofcommunism, it is that the democraticstruggle should not be envisaged interms of friend/enemy and that liberaldemocracy is not the enemy to bedestroyed in order to create somethingabsolutely new from scratch. If weacknowledge that the ethico-politicalprinciples of modern liberal democracy-understanding by ethico-political princi-ples what Montesquieu defined as “thepassions that move a regime”- are theassertion of liberty and equality for all, itis clear that we could not find more rad-ical principles to organize a society. Theproblem with “actually existing” liberaldemocracies is not their ideals, but thefact that those ideals are not put intopractice. So the task for the left is not toreject those ideals, with the argumentthat they are a sham, a cover for capi-talist domination, but to fight for theimplementation of those ideals and formaking liberal democratic societiesaccountable for their ideals.

But such a struggle, if it should not beenvisaged in terms of friend/enemy,

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When it is presented as driven exclu-sively by the information revolution,globalization is detached from its politi-cal dimension and appears as a fate towhich we all have to submit.

Scrutinizing this conception, AndreGorz has argued in his book Misères duprésent. Richesse du possible ( Galilée,Paris 1997) that, instead of being seenas the necessary consequence of atechnological revolution, the process ofglobalization should be understood as amove by capital to provide what was afundamentally political answer to the“crisis of governability of the 1970's”. Inhis view the crisis of the fordist model ofdevelopment led to a divorce betweenthe interests of capital and those of thenation-states. The space of politicsbecame dissociated from the space ofthe economy. To be sure this phenome-non of globalization was made possibleby new forms of technology. But thistechnological revolution required for itsimplementation a profound transforma-tion in the relations of power amongsocial groups and between capitalistcorporations and the state and it wasmade possible by deliberate choices bygovernments. The political move wasthe crucial one. Because they do not acknowledge this

link, third way theorists are unable tograsp the systemic connections existingbetween global market forces and thevariety of problems- from exclusion toenvironmental risks- that they want totackle. It is very symptomatic indeedthat they use the language of “exclu-sion” which does not provide any tool toanalyze the origin of that phenomenon

but limits itself to describe it. By redefin-ing the structural inequalities systemati-cally produced by the market system interms of “exclusion” they eschew anytype of structural analysis of their caus-es and side step the fundamental ques-tion of what needs to be done to tacklethem. As if the very condition for theinclusion of the excluded did not requireat the very least a new mode of regula-tion of capitalism which will permit adrastic redistribution and a correction ofthe profound inequalities that the neo-liberal long decade has brought about.

The consequence of the consensual “politics of the center” implemented bythe former parties of the left is the exis-tence of a real democratic deficit in lib-eral democratic societies. Deficit whichrepresents a serious danger for thefuture of democracy. Indeed, politicalpassions cannot find an outlet within thedemocratic system since there is nodebate about possible alternatives,debate in which different forms of iden-tifications could be provided for peoplearound which to mobilize. Not only arewe therefore witnessing the growth ofother forms of collective identificationsaround issues of ethnicity, religion,nationality, moral issues- which cannoteasily be dealt with by the democraticsystem. Even more worrying is theincreasing role played by populist right-wing parties. As I have argued in myrecent work, it is in the context of thisconsensus at the center that we shouldunderstand the rise of this type of par-ties. Thanks to a clever populist rheto-ric, they are able to articulate manydemands of the popular sectors

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tanism through the various proposalsfor a “cosmopolitan democracy” and a“cosmopolitan citizenship”. The theo-rists associated with this trend arguethat with the disappearance of the com-munist enemy, international antago-nisms are a thing of the past and that,thanks to globalization, time has cometo realize the cosmopolitan ideal. Theybelieve that the conditions now exist forrealizing the unity of the world aroundthe worldwide implementation of liberaldemocracy. Contrary to those claims, Icontend that the end of the bipolarworld order of the cold war, far fromhaving opened the way for a cosmopol-itan democracy, has led to the emer-gence of new global antagonisms.Indeed I submit that it is within the con-text of the unipolar world, resulting fromthe collapse of the Soviet Union and thenow unchallenged hegemony of theUnited States that one can make senseof the recent wave of international ter-rorism, a situation that could easily leadto a sort of global civil war. It is in myview the absence of a real pluralism atthe international level which entails theimpossibility of finding legitimate formsof expression for dissensus whichexplains why, when antagonismsemerge, they take extreme forms. Or toput it differently, it is the lack of politicalchannels for challenging the hegemonyof neo-liberal globalization which is atthe origin of the proliferation of dis-courses and practices of radical nega-tion of the dominant order. Hence theneed to envisage an alternative to theliberal vision which imagines that antag-onisms could be eliminated thanks tothe unification of the world and the

establishment of a cosmopolitandemocracy transcending the political,conflict and negativity.I want to suggest that we can find in thatlate work of Carl Schmitt some impor-tant insights for grasping the nature ofour current predicament. Indeed,Schmitt foresaw the dangers entailedby the establishment ofan unipolarworld order and he was acutely awareof that any attempt to impose one singlemodel worldwide would have dire con-sequences. After the second world warhe dedicated an important part of hisreflections to the decline of the politicalin its modern form and the loss by thestate of the monopoly of the political.This was linked in his view to te dissolu-tion of the Jus Publicum Europaeum,the inter-state European Law which forthree centuries had made possible whathe cal in 1950 in his book Der Nomosder Erde, eine “Hegung des Krieges”.He feared that the decline of the statewas creating the conditions for a newform of politics which he referred to as“international civil war”.

How to avoid such a prospect? Whatkin dof world order could replace theJus Publicum Europaeum? Thosequestions were at the center ofSchmitt”s preocuppationsin severalwritings of the 50's and early 60's wherehe discussed the possibility of a newNomos of the Earth. In an article pub-lished in 1952 ( “Die Einheit der Welt”,Merkur, Vol VI., No 1 pp.1-11) he exam-ined how the dualism created by thecold war created by the polarizationbetween capitalism and communismcould evolve and he imagined several

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cannot be envisaged either as simplecompetition among interests, takingplace in a neutral terrain and where theaim is to reach compromises and toaggregate preferences. This is ofcourse how democracy is conceived bymany liberal theorists and unfortunately,it seems to me that this is the way leftwing parties are now visualizing demo-cratic politics. It is the reason why theyare unable to grasp the existing struc-ture of power relations and of envisag-ing the need of creating a new hegemo-ny. Obviously this blindness chimeswith their refusal to draw political fron-tiers and their belief that they can sidestep fundamental conflicts of interestsby avoiding to define an adversary.

It is indeed this refusal to define anadversary which I take to be the funda-mental flaw of current center- left poli-tics. For the demise of the communistmodel not to mean the end of the leftproject it is urgent in liberal democraticsocieties to reinstaure the centrality ofthe left/right divide. Without advocatingthe kind of total overthrow of capitalismthat some nostalgic marxists are stilldreaming of, it seems to me that oneshould be able to think of alternative tothe neo-liberal order, a real alternativenot the supposedly third way betweensocial-democracy and neo-liberalismthat is currently advertised by its advo-cates as the “new politics for the newcentury”. Indeed far from being an alter-native to the neo-liberal type of global-ization, such a politics accepts the basictenets of neo-liberal orthodoxy and lim-its itself to helping people to cope withwhat is perceived as a “fate” and to

making themselves “employable”.It is not the place here to delineate whatsuch an alternative could be. Let mejust conclude by pointing out that if theleft is not able to establish a new identi-ty and to develop a left political projectout of the changed global conditionthere is a very strong possibility that thepopulist right will increasingly be able totake advantage of the resentment of allthose left outside the consensus at thecenter in order to mobilize collectivepassions in ways that can endangerdemocratic institutions.

That the traditional conceptions of leftand right are inadequate for the prob-lems we are facing, I readily accept. Butto believe that the antagonisms thatthose categories evoke have disap-peared in our globalized world is to fallprey to the hegemonic liberal discourseof the end of politics. Far from havinglost their relevance the stakes to whichleft and right allude are more pertinentthan ever. What we need is not a poli-tics “beyond right an left” but a new pol-itics of the left enabling us to face thenew challenges confronting democraticsocieties today and the creation of anagonistic debate that will allow for amobilization of passions towards demo-cratic objectives.

Towards a multipolar world order

Moving now to the international arena,we find among many liberals a similarillusion about the end of antagonismand the possibility of a consensualworld order. This manifests itself in thecurrent revival of the idea of cosmopoli-

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surprising therefore that, when theyexplode, they take extreme forms, put-ting into question the very basis of theexisting order. What is at stake oncemore is the negation of the dimension ofthe political and the belief that the aimof politics- be it a the national or theinternational level- is to establish con-sensus on one single model, therebyforclosing the possibility of legitimatedissent. This consensual, anti-politicalapproach is of course characteristic ofliberal thought but it has been rein-forced in the West since the end of thecold war with the triumphalist discourseabout the “end of history” and the beliefthat human progress consisted in theestablishment of world unity based onthe implentation of the Western model.Against this universalist-globalist dis-course, the thought that I want to sharewith you is that it is high time to aban-don the Eurocentric tenet that modern-ization can only take place throughWesternization and to abandon thedangerous illusion that antagonismscould be eliminated thanks to a unifica-tion of the world that would transcendconflict and negativity. What we urgent-ly need today after the end of the bipo-lar world order is not this false univer-salism but the creation of a multipolarworld order constructed around a cer-tain number of great regional spacesand genuine cultural poles. This is myview is the only way in which the post-communist condition could become thebasis for a more democratic world, oth-erwise what would we are likely to wit-ness is the famous “clash of civiliza-tions” announced by Huntington.

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possible scenarios. He rejected theidea that such a dualism was only theprelude to a final unification of theworld, resulting from the total victory ofone of the antagonists. He believed thatthe end of bipolarity was more likely tolead to a new equilibrium, this timeunder the hegemony of the UnitedStates. But Schmitt also imagined athird form of evolution consisting in theopening of a dynamics of pluralizationwhose outcome could be the establish-ment of a new global order based onthe existence of several autonomousregional blocs. This would provide theconditions for an equilibrium of forcesamong various large spaces, institutingamong them a new system of interna-tional law. Such system would presentsimilarities with the old Jus PublicumEuropaeum, except that in this case, itwould be tru;y global and not onlyEuropeocentric. This pluralist evolutionwas clearly the one he favoured. Hethought that by establishing a “true plu-ralism”, a multipolar world order wouldprovide the institutions necessary tomanage conflicts. In that way one coldavoid the negative consequencesresulting from the pseudo-universalismarising from the generalization of onesingle system. He was too aware, how-ever , that such a pseudo universalismwas a much more likely outcome thatthe pluralism that he advocated. Andunfortunately this is what has happenedsince the collapse of the Soviet Union.

Since September 11, Schmitt”s con-cerns have become more relevant thanever and I think that they can help usgrasping the nature of the new forms of

terrorism. As Jean-Francois Kervéganhas suggested, they allow us toapproach the question of terrorism in adifferent way from the one currentlyaccepted, i.e as the work of isolatedgroups of fanatics.Takng our bearingsfrom Schmitt, we can see terrorism asthe product of a new configuration ofthe political which is characteristic ofthe type of world order being imple-mented around the hegemony of a sin-gle hyper-power. Indeed, I believe thatthere is a correlation between the nowunchallenged power of the US and theproliferation of a certain type of terroristattacks. In no way do I want of course topretend that this is the only explana-tion,, terrorism has always existed andit is due to a multiplicity of factors. But itis undeniable that it tends to flourish incircumstances where no legitimatechannels exist for the expression ofgrievances. It is therefore no coinci-dence that, since the end of the coldwar, with the untrameled imposition of aneo-liberal model of globalization underthe dominance of the US, we have wit-nessed a significant increase in terroristgroups. Indeed the possibilities formaintaining socio-political models dif-ferent from the Western ones havebeen drastically reduced and all theinternational organizations are more orless directly under the control ofWestern powers led by the US.

In fact the situation in the internationalarena is similar to the one I describedpreviously in domestic politics: theabsence of a real pluralism entails theimpossibility for antagonisms to findlegitimate forms of expression. It is not

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well as ideological mechanism that pro-duce the power. The allegorical asym-metrical Other travestically exposesitself in unstable screen figures ofNietzsche, Freud, Wittgenstein, Klimt,Scriabin or Musil, and there are somemoments in which Other exposes itselfas the figure of Stalin, Mussolini orHitler as well.

In his film British director Derek Jermansimulated ecstatic, obscene and by lan-guage games demasked character ofLudwig Wittgenstein, the philosopher.Jerman's Wittgenstein is artificial bodyof fictionalized historical human beingwhich is left to the simulation of the erot-ic fantasy. Onto the cinematic figurecalled Wittgenstein the hypothesis cre-ated by the transformation of signs ofphilosophy, sexuality, emotions,designs, sociability and subjectibilityare projected into the signifier's lavathat covers screen (eye's retina).Note: West-European postmodernismestablishes correspondences, ofteneven equivalence between historical,contemporary, symbolical, ideologicaland erotic codification.

American and Japanese postmod-ernism

American (explicitly and ecstaticallydefined as Californian or L.A) postmod-ernism and Japanese postmodernismare based on virtual space (these arespaces of mechanical and digital pro-ductive relations). Virtual space isunhistorical world of technological reali-ty: (1) the reality which mimeticallyshows modernist and actual images

introducing them into mass spectacleecstasy and consumption entropy; (2)the reality which is urbanism, doesn'tdiffer existential, business, social andaesthetic space from stage set for fig-ure's poses (the time of postmodern fic-tionalization and narration becomes thetime of architectural and urban transfor-mations of quotidian). Architectonic, tel-evision, computer, video and cinematiciconic figures transhistorically andtransnacionally accumulate emotions ofthe presence of different cultures (multi-culturalism). L.A.'s postmodernismleads toward fractalization of megalopo-lis inscribing differences into every itemof art, rase, and gender.

Japanese postmodernism almost nar-cotically creates environments with thehearing-humming voices: (1) the end ofEuropean metaphysics echoes andmultiplies itself (an example, Heideggeris present in many ways in Japanesephilosophy and cultural theory); (2)American mass cultural spectacle turnsevery real space into cybernetic ortelematic space (spectacle's monster) -Cindy Sherman published her book"Species" (1991) in Japan realized it assimulation of artificial bodies of themonsters-dolls-doll's parts with theirfaces made as mixture of the Westernand Eastern features as well as of'creatures' outside reality of biologicalontology; and (3) Japanese (zen) ele-gant inserting into transcendentalsound of nature (sound of a hand,Buddha's black mirror, neither-concep-tualization-nor-nonconceptualization ofsatori, garden-house in which theboundary between outer and inner

Apocalyptic Spirits: Art In Postsocialist Era

I will start this essay with typology whichwill make possible comparative discus-sion of actual macro-cultures: (a) West-European postmodernism, (b)American and Japanese postmod-ernism, (c) Third World postmodernism,(d) postsocialism as postmodern.

West-European postmodernism

West-European postmodernism pro-duces apocalyptic, posthistorical, ret-rogarde, ecstatic and erotic postmodernculture. The sense of the fin-de-sieclethat was typical for symbolism and artnouveau is represented and overem-phasized rhetorically by the new media(theatrical space, screen presentations,electronic media, internet, installationsand huge paintings). The sense of thefin-de-siecle is accumulated as a hedo-nistic, decadent, obscene, pervasiveand neoconservative discursive andmedia system of images that show theway in which the power of Central (polit-ical, intellectual, artistic) Masterbecomes allegory of asymmetricalother. To be in the same time provincialas well as cosmopolite, puritan as wellas erotic toy, apolitical subjectivity as

by Misko Suvakovicˇ ´ˇ

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determined by crossing over, lateness,regression, and loss.

Crossing over. Seventy or forty years ofsocial realism made impossible realiza-tion of modernist project in its importantsocial and artistic aspects. In their his-torical evolutions societies of realsocialism lost some modernist links inchain (for example, high modernism).

Lateness. Postsocialist East-European,Middle European and Balkan countriesby their productive consumptive socialorder could not reach Western eruptiveand ecstatic postmodern productiveand consumptive powers. They are justmimesis of mimesis of Western(European, American) postmodernism.But mimesis is never literal reflection.Reflection is always transfiguration andtransformation. It is not only that post-socialism is unlike Western postmod-ernism, but as mimesis of the mimesis itbuilds quite different ontology of reality.Western postmodernism is media tran-scendence of uncontrolled consump-tion of commodities, information andvalues. East European, MiddleEuropean and Balkan postmodernismsare uncontrolled consumption of ideo-logical and religious fragmentary identi-ties.

Regression. In ideological sense domi-nant political tendency in postsocialistculture is criticism of socialist realism asinternational modernist culture (which isjust partly true), and, on the other side,criticism of Western capitalism as soci-ety of spiritual and existential alienation(which is just partly true). Regressive

concepts are directed toward premod-ern roots (sources) which becomesparanoiac playing with impossible his-torical projections, utopias and visions.Regression toward historical Being isregression toward organic body of thenation and toward transcendentalideals of ethos and aesthetics whichlose their Other and reject even thepossibility of the variant Third.

Loss. Postsocialist cultures are entropiccultures. Cynically speaking, they areentropic cultures, because they arebased upon premodern or modern pro-duction, and postmodern (or postmod-ernlike) consumption. In extreme casesthese societies reject all except onto-logical necessities, i.e., national, ethicaland aesthetical self-determination andself-sufficiency.

***

In the end I would like to outline oneconditional schematic description ofpossible relations between different artsin postsocialist worlds. I will present artscenes through several different lines(worlds) that sometimes traumaticallymeet each other face to face. We coulddistinguish:

(I) Antimodernist tendencies that rangefrom traditionalism (return to the bour-geois society values, romantic historicalmyth, religious and bourgeois tradition),through national realism (militant can-cerous restoration of ideologically pro-filed right-wing art: para-national social-ism, para-fascism) to neoconserva-tivism (aesteticized point to esoteric,

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world disappears).Note: American and Japanese post-modernism establishes ideology as par-adigmatic techniques of the spectacle,biopolitics, cybernetic urbanism,transnational economies and consumerecstasy.

Third World Postmodernism

Third World Postmodernism takesplace as postcolonial confrontation withthe truth of the absent Master. ThirdWorld Postmodernism is characterizedby four tendencies: (1) rejection of thewhite master leads behind the moderni-ty towards radical religious fundamen-talism of one God, one nation, one ritu-al-totem body, i.e. The other is mur-dered symbolically and existentiallythrough seeking for transcendentalbasic self (drama of the rational powerand drama of every, even minimal,modernity); (2) critical deconstruction ofthe master's symbolic powers leadstoward problematisation of Westernmodels of civilization, but this doesn'tlead toward symbolic-existential mur-dering of the other - the new consider-ing of the racial, national, gender andaesthetic identity defined by prefix'trans' is searched for; (3) metastasis ofsymbolic master representations - mul-tiplication and duplication of the masterinstead of the colonial master, this pro-duces cataclysm and tragedies ofnational, tribal and family wars; (4)experiencing Western postmodernismsas ideal that would bring change andestablish new identity.

Third world establishes the idea of

asymmetry (the asymmetrical Other).Let us notice the differences between:(1) Joseph Beuys' mythical space real-ized in his performance "Euroasie"(1966) -universal symbolicEuropocentricity is given by the symme-try of the cross; (2) Nam June Paik'sasymmetric penetration into the mod-ernist Western experiment's body - asin the convex mirror (in the Westerntechnology, i.e. video) Paik reflectsasymmetrical codes of the Other (zengarden, Buddha, release of the bodyenergy, transcendence, and eroticism);(3) mimesis of the mimesis of the asym-metry (naked differences of uniconiccode as code of identity) in the ShirinNeshat photos; (4) in paradigmaticexamples of Chinese new painting(cynical realism) or Chinese languagepoetry - we will reveal how identityshows itself in differences of many lay-ers - Chinese identity could be found inSocialist realism (maoism,Confucianism) that rhetorically parodiesand deconstructs cynical realism, aswell as in innovation in poetic languagethat could be present in internationalscene only by analogies with Americanlanguage poetry. Note: simultaneously and eclectically(hell of eclecticism) Third world post-modernism confronts Europocentric,Afrocentric, Asiocentric, asymmetrical,premodernist, modernist, antimod-ernist, and postmodernist ideologicalmodels (figures).

Postsocialism as postmodern

Postsocialism as postmodern posthis-torical and postideological culture is

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(i.e., modes of expressing asymmetricalin relation to historical modernism).These languages rhetorically heightenits themes, emotions, ontological para-doxes, formalist or antiformalist eccen-tricities, rises and anomaly. Someauthors fictionalize modernism, andother lead it to ramifying unimaginablein modernism.

In short, art world of TODAY is world ofdifferences! According to Lyotard le dif-ferand signifies the conflict without thepossibility of resolution. Le differand ofmodernism and postmodernism areeven today drastically open and we arediscussing them here! Dialectics ofmodernism and postmodernism differsfrom dialectics of XX century move-ments that follow one another (differentisms and arts). Dialectics of XX centurymovements that follow one another isanaloguous to syntagmatic temporalaxis of successive changes (ismsreplaces isms, and arts replaces arts).In high modernist interpretation it isevolution of art in question, and in radi-cal modernist or avant-garde variant itis catastrophe (cataclysm, break, theend) of a paradigm in a moment ofanother rise. For early postmodernism,Oliva's transavantgarde, for example,or Danto's the end of art that happenedin conceptual art by transformation ofart (objects) into theory (or, in Hegelianterms, into Mind itself), the conscious-ness about the end of the history andtransitory (trans) posthistorical epoch.The new interpretations from the begin-ning of 90-ties points that the logic ofuninterrupted evolution or catastropheor posthistorical schematisations is only

one among many models or pragmaticstrategies of establishing hierarchies ofpowers or superstructure of art sys-tems. Dialectics of intertwinement ofmodern and postmodern is talkedabout. Apart from this intertwinement itis possible to point to allegorisation ofLacanian the turn of the screw (JacquesLacan, Shoshana Felman). The turn ofthe screw annuls (makes obvious) alloppositions in relation to power division(history = modernism and posthistory =postmodernism). Modernism and post-modernism become (formally, interpre-tatively, narrativelly) in allegory of turn-ing mutually interchangeable, more-over, inseparable. The same happenswith the traditional psychoanaliticalpairs of opposition: exorcist and pos-sessed, psychoanalyst and patient, ill-ness and curing, symptom and symt-pom interpretation.

Continuation of typology!

E) Problematisation and reduction offictional eclectic sculptural expressionand establishing of visual art formalismas dominant characteristics. New sculp-ture shows how in the body of postmod-ernism appears modernist hiatus thatpoints to ontology and morphology ofart work's appearance and presence. F) Posing the ontology of the paintingas central problem of painter's creationand exploration. New painting abstrac-tion explores basic ideological, spiritualand aesthetic subdeterminations ofmodernist painting. It points to the prob-lem of painting's autonomy, sublime inpainting, picturality, objectness, color,title, uniconic, intuition and originality.

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fantastic, fictional, mythic, folklore, reli-gious, allegorical thematisations ofidentity).

(II) Modest postmodernism belongs todifferent evolutions of intimism andregional expressions (before SecondWorld War) that evolved into socialistaestheticism (in fifties) and then in mod-est modernism (in sixties and seven-ties), modest modernism evolve intomodest postmodernism (sensual, deco-rative, stylized, neither-abstract-nor-fig-urative and either-abstract-or-figurativeproduction, theorio-phobic, expressionof interest and values of new bureau-cratic, menageries and intellectualelite).

(III) New high art as form of productioncharacteristic for international ortransnational scene in 80-ies and early90-ies that points to correspondenceswith avant-garde, neoavant-garde andpostavant-garde tendencies.

We will analyze in detail the third cate-gory. New high art or art in 80-ies and in90-ies exists through several open andchangeable tendencies: A) Eclectic postmodernism of early 80-ies: neoexpressionsms, transavant-garde, neoclasicisms and new geome-try (neo geo).B) Retrogarde is simulation of a symp-toms of social and historical traumas ofrealsocialism. It is exploitation (entropicconsumption) of dead religious, ideo-logical, modernist signs (Soc art,Perestroyka art, retrogarde, cynicalrealism).C) New alternative art paradoxically

remains eclectical and expressive char-acter of expression formulating-shapingit by media. New alternative art shows'hot' joints of high and popular culture,i.e., builds conceptual revolve fromopposition ideological-contra-nonideo-logical into opposition esoteric mod-ernism-egsoteric modernism. D) Post-feminist art is determined byreexsemination of women's productiveidentity in relation to left wing identities(of realsocialist period, Western femi-nism), and in relation to neoconserva-tivism, and drastic, neofundamentalismthat arrests specific female identity byreturning into fictional male logocen-trism.

Note. The tendencies signified by indexesfrom E to I could be described by sin-tagma modernism after postmodernism.Within realsocialist and postsocialistcultures, that didn't have full modernistdevelopment, not earlier than in late 80-ies and 90-ies that the crucial questionsof (high) modernism as dominant XXcentury megaculture is raised. Theextreme art practices (in conceptual art)as well as those decentered (transa-vantgarde, retrogarde) theoretically andproductively problematized of the ideo-logical, significance and valuableboundaries masked by modest mod-ernism and modest postmodernism. Itseems as if conceptual art and eclecticpostmodernism happened just toreopen basic modernist questions. Inempty place of modernism, we couldnotice constitution of corrected super orhyper modernism that by its languages

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Literature:

1. Jacques Derrida, Writing andDifference, University of Chicago Press,Chicago, 1978.2. Neue Slowenische Kunst, Problemibr. 6, Ljubljana, 1985.3. Arthur C. Danto, The PhilosophicalDisenfranchsement of Art, ColumbiaUniversity Press, New York, 1986.4. David Carol, Paraesthetics -Foucault, Lyotard, Derrida, Mathuen,New York, London, 1987.5. Alenka Zupanzic, J. O. (ed), PodobaKristal, Problemi Razprave, br. 3,Ljubljana, 1988. 6. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, SarahHarasym, The Post-Colonial Critic,Routledge, 1990.7. David A. Ross (ed), Between Springand Summer - Soviet Conceptal Art inthe Era of Late Communism, The MITPress, Cambridge MA, 1990.8. Donna J. Haraway, Simians, Cyborgsand Women - The Reinvention ofNature, Routledge, New York, 1990.9. Russell Ferguson, William Olander,Marcia Tucker, Karen Fiss (ed) Discourses: Conversation inPostmodern Art and Culture, The MITPress, Cambridge MA, London, 1990.10. Merjorie Perloff, Radical Artiface -Writing Poetry in the Age of Media, TheUniversity of Chicago Press, Chicago,London, 1991.11. Cindy Sherman, Specimens, ArtRandom, Shoin, Kyoto, 1991.12. Emanuel Levinas, Totality andInfinity - An Essay on Exteriority,Duquesne University Press, Pittsburgh,1992.13. Charles Bernstein, A Poetics,

Harvard University Press, CambridgeMA, London, 1992.14. Ego East - Hrvatska umjetnostdanas, Umjetni_ki paviljon u Zagrebu,1992.15. Verena Andermatt Conley (ed),Rethinking Technologies, University ofMinnesota Press, Minneapolis Press,London, 1993.16. Eyal Amiran, John Unsworth (ed),Essays in Postmodern Culture, OxfordUniversity Press, New York, 1993.17. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak,Outside in the Teaching Machine,Routledge, New York, 1993.18. "Postcommunist Postmodernism -An Interview with Mikhail Epstein",Common Knowledge vol. 2 no. 3,Oxford University Press, New York,1993.19. Timoth Murray, Like a Film -Ideological Fantasy on Screen, Cameraand Canavs, Routledge, New York,1993.20. Homi Bhabha, Location of Culture,Routledge, New York, 1994.21. W.J.T. Mitchell (ed), Landscape andPower, The University of ChicagoPress, Chicago, London, 1994. 22. Edward Foster, Vadim Mesyats(ed), The New Freedoms -Contemporary Russian and AmericanPoetry, The Stevens Institute ofTechnology, New York, 1994.23. J. Denegri, "Prioritet forme i novaduhovnost u umetnosti devedesetih",Prvi jugoslovenski likovni bijenalemladih, Konkor- dija, 1994.

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New abstraction discusses the nature ofmodernist painting from displaced(decentred, often fictional) postmodernistview.G) Technoaestetic or technospiritualpractice is hypermodern or supermodernproduction because it shows how theideas (formulas, concepts, range) ofreductive modernism in postmodern cul-ture could be rhetorical, media and phe-nomenally strengthened to new object,enviromnmental and mental reality.Symptoms and effects of high technologyare introduced into the bounded provi-sional social organization. New technolo-gy in postsocialism gets utopian and sub-lime characterizations.

H) Post-anti-form strategy is immanentcriticism of formalism that grows out ofinner self-critical reading of formalism invisual art. All phenomenon (light, materi-al, energy, process) reduced by formalistaestheticism into the autonomous sculp-tural or paintingly forms, are reintroducedinto art. Post-anti-form art rise in urbansuburbs (realsocialist dormitories) asethic and anarchistic reaction of poorpeople against rich, traditional and con-servative. Asceticism of the body anddecentricity of the object become aes-thetic qualities.

I) Neoconceptual or non-expressive artshows how postideological and postcriti-cal joints of conceptual and pop art, i.e.,eclectic postmodernism of 80-ties andnew egsoteric object and media post-modernism of 90-ties, could be repre-sented. Neoconceptual art in postsocial-ism deals with entropy and changeabilityof ideas (i.e., ideology).

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Monuments on both of these themeswere presented in public places in suchlarge numbers of copies that they lostany connection to what they were signify-ing. Perhaps the most interesting wasAugustin_i_’s (1948) monument depict-ing Tito in a heavy coat. This monumentwas blown up during the night of 26/27December 2004 at its »original« site,Tito’s birthplace Kumrovec, which hasbecome as sort of theme-park. .3

Judging by the way the deed wasannounced, it would seem that the inten-tion here was not to destroy the icon orthe symbol - as both seem to be inde-structible and are re-emerging in movieculture – but to conquer a symbolic place,the birthplace that today is the only phys-ical reference to the person named Tito.4

At a time when movie culture refers to hiseternal comeback, iconoclasts attackinga sculpture seem pretty old-fashioned,even though they themselves may haveunconsciously been influenced by thesefilms. 5

Iconoclastic revenge on »the name of thefather«6

Contrary to demolitions of sculptures thattook a much longer time – for example,the taking down of the Berlin Wall (1989)– in this case a monument was blown up.Blowing things up, always an honorabletask in partisan iconography, is a topicthat has been dealt with through a num-ber of heroic characters in the post-WW2movie culture.7 Though monuments wererarely “referred” to, there were debateson the ways of removing them in themovies. One such debate was provokedby the removal of a statue of Alexander IIIshown in Eisenstein’s »October« that did-

n’t actually take place during the OctoberRevolution. But the discussion on itsremoval was so heated that Mayakovskiproposed simply blowing it up.8 In thecase of Croatia, such modern or left-wingmethods were paradoxically employedby right-wing »activists«, who thus unwit-tingly paid a tribute to the phenomenon ofthe socialist production of icons.

Iconoclastic revenge is usually takenagainst the dominant symbol, the »Nameof the Father«, and is progressive from ahistorical point of view, as Mitchell hasnoted. But when it comes too late andrefers to no one in particular, it is a use-less act. For, if the »father figure« isunknown and undefined, there is nothingto revolt against. The unknown hero andthe hero in general always make sabo-teurs simply »bastards«. They are fight-ing ghosts.

Blowing up, toppling, decapitation

Still, the strategy of blowing monumentsup was seen as left-wing not because itwas so in a political sense, but because itwas the way an invisible society of work-ers made itself spectacularly visible.Obligatory classes of self-defence in sec-ondary schools, which were more like ter-rorism lessons for children, taught a typeof knowledge similar to the interventionistdiscourse of anarchism and the radicalleft in the West, for example Johann Most(end of 19th century) or William Powell(»The Anarchist Cookbook«, 1960s). Butthey were legal, a part of historicalmethodology. Instead of demolishing thesculpture of Tito, bombers have simplyreminded everyone of what they alreadyknow.

Empty PedestalsOn Dalibor Martinis' performances of climbing onto the empty pedestal ofTito and becoming a metalworker – like Tito

Icons as symbols

Since the ZKM symposium Iconoclash , ithas become quite popular to deal withthe theme of iconoclasm.1 Still, two ofDalibor Martinis’ performances, whichfocus on the blown-up monument of Tito,are rather plugged into an unarticulatedpolitical and cultural dialogue and thusthe inherent dilemma of popular culture,politics and art. They therefore becometopological, but also question the contentof the icon.

It was not often in ex-Yugoslavia - as wasin the case in “festivals of iconoclasm”(Strabinsky) in other socialist countries,especially in Russia - that monumentswere removed. Tito separated from theSoviet Bloc as early as 1948, so SocialistRealism did not dominate productionlonger than 1951. Still, in this short spaceof time and even later on - outside thecontext of art - a number of monumentswas built, mainly representing Tito andthe specific theme of »unknown heroes.«Both of these themes are topologicalrather than topical, as the unknown herorepresented no one in particular, and Titohas also become a similar symbol .2

by Ana Peraica

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Notes

1 Latour, B. and P. Weibel, Eds. (2002).Iconoclash. Karlsruhe, ZKM and MIT Press.2 Tito as worker, elegant man, hunter, seduc-er, gardener, driver…3 iii Cf. the film »Marsal - The Ghost of MarshalTito«, directed by Vinko Bresan (Croatia,1999)4 See speeches of Ante Dapiz and MiroslavRozic from the HSP party asking that icono-clasm not stop before Kumrovec (Tolic) 5 A few other movies besides Bresan’s»Marsal - The Ghost of Marshal Tito«,(Croatia, 1999) also depict the theme of areturn: Goran Markovic, »Tito and I« (Serbia,1993)Zelimir Zilnik, »Tito for the Second Timeamong the Serbs« (Serbia, 1995)6 See K. Swarbrick, Lacan and the Uses ofIconoclasm, Stirling, University ofStirling,1999. 7 Characters like Bosko Buha, the bomberfrom the movie »The Battle of Neretva« (1969)8 »The collapse of the statue was also shot inreverse motion: the throne with the armlessand legless torso flew back onto the pedestal.Arms, legs, sceptre and orb flew to join it. Theindestructible figure of Alexander III onceagain sat in state, staring vacantly into space.This scene was shot for the episode ofKormilov’s attack on Petrograd in the autumnof 1917 and represented the dreams of allthose reactionaries who hoped that the gener-al’s success would lead to the restoration ofthe monarchy« Eisenstein quoted by S. Buck-Morss in Dreamworld and catastrophe: Thepassing of mass utopia in East and West,Cambridge, Mass.; London, MIT, 2000 9 See D. King, The Commissar Vanishes. TheFalsification of Photographs and Art in Stalin'sRussia, Metropolitan Books Henry Holt andCompany,199710 Louise Lawler and Allan McCollum, ForPresentation and Display: Ideal Settings(1984). One hundred hydraulic pedestals withspectacular lighting parody the museum andits formal elements. See H. Foster, SubversiveSigns. Recordings, Spectacle, CulturalPolitics, New York, The New Press, 1985, p.

99-121 xii See S. Buck-Morss. Dreamworld andCatastrophe: the passing of mass utopia insEast and West. Cambridge, Mass./London,MIT. 200011 See D. Freedberg, Iconoclasts and TheirMotives, Maarssen, Gary Schwartz, 1985.12 See W. J. T. Mitchell, Iconology: Image,Text, Ideology, Chicago, The University ofChicago Press Ltd, London andChicago,1986.

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When the government decided to put therestored monument back in place,Martinis took revenge on copies. Cuttingheads off replicas of the monument notonly repeated the iconoclasm of bomberswhere the sculpture only lost a head, butestablished Martinis himself on the emptypedestal of the symbol as Tito himself –who, according to implausible accountsof his life, was at first a metalworker.

The strategy of replacing heads of stat-ues with different ones, practised sinceRoman times, was more colonial inmeaning. For this method has been usedon a large scale in another medium –photography. Stalin’s partial interventionsin historical photographs used icono-clasm in a constructive rather thandestructive way, to build new meanings.9

Martinis’ performances actually refer tophotography and film both in content andform. All we have is a photography of thefirst performance, and all that happens isa ritual decapitation – but the symbollives on. So what is meant to be subvert-ed here if the sculpture cannot be pun-ished?

Subversive museums and theme parks

The pedestal that Martinis climbs on to isnot an artistic reference point, like theempty pedestals of Lawler and McCollum. A museum and the birthplace of the »ex-father« are not the same, although bothare »memorial« institutions.10

A empty pedestal in a public place is asign of a past time. Paul Claudel hasnoted how Mallarmé’s Paris was »sud-denly peopled with pedestals dedicatedto absence«, and for this reason

Iamposkii has seen pedestals as a signof stable times.11 During Tito’s life, thepedestal was also a point of reference forthe »everyday pioneers« who participat-ed in the grand spectacles for Tito’s birth-days (»slet« - large-scale festivals, oftenin stadiums, where songs and danceswere performed in honour of Tito; or»_tafeta« - relay races through all therepublics, using burning torches insteadof batons; the last torch was given to Titopersonally on his birthday). Once arrivedat the pedestal, Martinis fulfills his oldobligation to stand up and defend theplace. He comes there to stabilize.12

But it is not that Martinis makes a politicaldecision, even though he takes the placeof Tito (or, to be more precise, of hiscopy) or behaves as a metalworker. He isactually entering an impossible exchangewith a place where icons of popular cul-ture are in play that are referred to by art,but are can no longer be successfullydecoded by politics. In this place, icono-clasm and iconophilia lose their meaning,as they refer to particular motifs, but donot manage to decipher the icon and thesymbol .

Translation: Timothy Jones

This text was first published as Leere PodesteÜber Dalibor Martnis' Performances, in denener das leere Podest Titos besteigt. Springerin.1/4: 28 - 30. (2005).

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Dalibor Martins, JBT, 27.12.2004, performance.Courtesy: Ana Peraica.

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terpart to the institution of money"(Simmel 1990: 446). These tendenciestoward abstraction and mathematicalprecision, are characteristics of whatSimmel calls "the objective mind" andmark the internalization of the logic ofthe movement of money. From KarlMarx's analysis of commodification, toGeorg Lukacs' analysis of categoricalityand reification, to Jean Baudrillard'sanalysis of semiotic codification in For aCritique of the Political Economy of theSign much has been written (includingthe bulk of my own work) on the tenden-cy towards increasing abstraction undercapitalism. Commodification, itself aprocess of practical abstraction by whichqualities are grasped as exchange val-ues penetrates ever more deeply intonature and perception itself, results firstin the generalization of abstraction andsecond in what might be ordained ashistorical periods of abstraction. Asshifts in the quantity of abstraction pre-cipitate shifts in its qualities, for examplein the sequences Colonialism,Imperialism, Globalization, orImpressionism, Cubism Neo-Realism,Virtuality, or Cinema, Video, Computershifts in the intensity of practices ofabstraction coincide with differentmodes of perception. For the presentpurposes, I would like to describe thatprocess thus: The practices of abstrac-tion which, as noted in Simmel, becomea general cognitive and indeed psycho-logical tendency under the industrialreign of the commodity form, are fullyrealized and then surpassingly trans-formed under the reign of the cinematicimage; cinema becomes a new type ofcalculative function for regulating bothindividual and social relations.

While Christian Metz's model of "finan-cial feedback" between the cinemaindustry and the spectator's metapsy-chology should come to mind herebecause it implies a model for the mutu-al modification of corporeal practicesand aesthetic form, let us stay withSimmel for a moment. Simmel says oflaw, intellectuality and money "that allthree lay down forms and directions forcontents to which they are indifferent"(Simmel 1990: 442). So too with film.Cinema, by which I really mean the mov-ing image, requires celluloid movingthrough sprockets (and now tape acrossheads or CD-ROMs in drives), as well asa series of evolving conventions andprogram formats badly described as"film language." In both cases (of hard-ware and "language") the medium isindifferent to the contents. I have arguedelsewhere that cinema is a new order ofcapitalization which brings the industrialrevolution to the eye (Beller 1995;1999). Building on this thesis regardingthe industrialization of the senses, wemay deduce that while remainingembroiled in "material relations" cinemais a techno-phenomenological institu-tion, itself a registration of a shift in theaffective intensity of the formal logic ofthe movement of capital. As the predom-inant assemblage (machine-body inter-face) responsible for the general phe-nomenon of what might be called image-capitalism, cinema marks a movementfrom the rational to the sensual, from thecalculative to the affective. This shift,which has also been observed in the his-tory of advertising, accompanies whatmust be grasped as a dialectical trans-formation of the status of objects, first

Numismatics of the Sensual, Calculus ofthe Image: The Pyrotechnics of Control

The Vanishing Mediator

In "mention[ing] a final trait in the style ofcontemporary life whose rationalisticcharacter clearly betrays the influence ofmoney" (Simmel 1990: 443), writesSimmel, "by and large, one may charac-terize the intellectual functions that areused at present in coping with the worldand in regulating both individual andsocial relations as calculative functions"(Simmel 1990: 443-4). He adds that"Their cognitive ideal is to conceive ofthe world as a huge arithmetical prob-lem, to conceive events and the qualita-tive distinction of things as a system ofnumbers. Kant believed that natural phi-losophy was scientific only to the extentthat mathematics could be applied to it"(Simmel 1990: 444).

Because "the money economy enforcesthe necessity of continuous mathemati-cal operations in our daily transactions"(Simmel 1990: 444), "the exact interpre-tation of nature [is] the theoretical coun-

by Jonathan L. Beller

“The forming of the five senses is alabor of the entire history of the worlddown to the present.”

Karl Marx

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induced by the image. It is by lookingmore deeply into the numismatics of thesensual that the possibility of a politicaleconomy of vision will more fullyemerge.

Post-modernism

If the conceits of modernism includerationalization, quantification, standardi-zation and consciousness (even if vis-a-vis the unconscious, for scientificity andthe unconscious are two sides of thesame coin), then the conceits of thepostmodern include sensuality, qualifi-cation, flexibility and simulation. As weremember the young Marx in a euphoricmoment predicting that, "[a]ll history isthe preparation for man to become theobject of sensuous consciousness," wemight reflect that in certain respects, thepostmodern is the ironic fulfillment of thismodern. As students of advertising andfascism well know, the image has erod-ed a rational-actor paradigm and set inplace a model of society driven byrationally contrived irrational urges --Adorno's psychoanalysis in reverse. Butwe shall find that the image -- the ration-al production of the non-rational, thetruly generalized "end of reason" pro-vides not the restoration of the sensesbut the sensual illusion of the restorationof the senses. The commodity is reple-tion of a certain type; when there is novessel left to fill, repletion becomes sat-uration.

The senses, evolving in dialectical rela-tion to the medium which the medium ofmoney inaugurates, have passedthrough a transformation much likeland's conversion to private property

through ground rent, and belong now toanother logic, to something other thantheir apparent organic proprietors. In theDeleuzean vocabulary the senses havebeen "deterritorialized." For the imageeconomy demands the estrangementnot of sensuous labor alone (althoughthat, in its industrial and agrarian forms,remains woefully estranged) but of thesenses themselves. Senses -- vision,hearing, proprioception -- are made toproduce against us. They have indeedbecome "theoreticians," but theoreti-cians for capital (Marx/Engels 1978: 87-88). In the language of a dated short-hand we could say that false conscious-ness has become false sensuality, seek-ing gratification in modalities which pre-suppose and corroborate structures ofhierarchical society (compareMarx/Engels 1978: 96). Of course, sucha phrase only makes sense in a pre-postmodern universe, within a (hypo-thetical) universe in which the subject-form has not been at least partially liqui-dated by the developments I am trying toregister, but the important thing here isthe figure produced -- that of expropria-tion (a relation which raises the questionof a relationship between what onemight be worthy of and what onereceives). The sensitivities of commodi-ty culture, the desires, the visceralaffects, the intensities index the depriva-tion of sense (sensation, sensuality,experience, possibility, plenitude) for themajority of human beings. On a world-wide scale the living hell for most in theform of near starvation and dollar-a-daywages, brings such joy, or the self-image thereof, to the few. Capital forcesa redistribution of sensation which atonce delimits sensibility (what can be

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circulating as exchange-value in thepathways prescribed by capital, andthen, in a later moment (in whatamounts to a dematerialization of theobject), as the image circulating in thenew pathways of capital. The movementof the image is the new process of capi-tal, and the zones across which it movesare capital's new pathways.

"Even if our cognition were an exactreflection of the objects as they are inthemselves, the unity, correctness andcompleteness that knowledgeapproaches by mastering one thing afteranother would not derive from theobjects themselves. Rather, our episte-mological ideal would always be theircontent in the form of ideas, since eventhe most extreme realism wishes to gainnot the objects themselves but ratherknowledge of them" (Simmel 1990:450). The epistemological ideal atten-dant to money, then, is precisely theimage -- the dematerialized object, theobject, grasped in its essence by themind. Though Simmel's consideration ofthe abstraction of material contentplaces its emphasis on knowledge andcognition (the philosophy of money),film's unique polytechnic extension ofthe process of abstraction (a processwhich emerges with the institutionaliza-tion of exchange-value as the moneyeconomy and intensifies with the(dialectically) subsequent spread of pro-duction for exchange under capital)restores to cognition its sensual aspect(the practice of money). In the arc thatmight be drawn from Rene Descartes'skepticism in "Meditations on FirstPhilosophy" to today's "Reality TV," thealienation of the senses today returns as

the sensuality of alienation.

Here's the difficult part. Money as medi-um is without quality or quantity, it ismovement and organization. So also isthat new order of money first recognizedas the film. Provided that one graspsthat film and its descendants (TV, video,computers) put objects into circulation ina new way, and also that one under-stands in exchange-value the abstrac-tion of the object, that is, a kind of proto-image, s/he will also grasp that eachmedium (film, money) deploys a logic forthe circulation of image-commodities.The classical commodity was, after all, aproto-image, a materiality and a fetishis-tic excess -- it is only the ratio of thesecomponents which shifts due to theintensification of circulation called massmediation. However, the shift in the ratio"materiality to affect" in the commodity,leads/testifies to dramatic shifts inexpression.

The interpenetration of the psychic andthe numismatic, analyzed at incrediblelength by Simmel, finds a genuine fusionin the cinematic. Money's philosophy, itsthought, as it were, is recorded bySimmel, yet its mode of conceptualiza-tion achieves a higher expression in film-- the "philosophy of money" as praxis.As Deleuze all too succinctly puts it,"Money is the obverse of all images thatthe cinema shows and sets in place"(Deleuze 1989: 77). The twin tines ofeconomistic calculability and materialsensuality, emerging in the dialecticalschema from an originary alienation firstexpressed as the commodity-form(exchange-value/use-value) are reunit-ed and merge in the consciousness

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conversion of labor time to exchangevalue (by capital), and the correspon-ding conversion of money into produc-tive power (by the consumer).Exchange-value is sensuous labor, sub-jectivity, shunted into an alien(ating) sys-tem. When humans' production is alien-ated production, that is, when their prod-uct is produced for exchange and takenaway from them at a socially leverageddiscount, work becomes not a satisfac-tion of workers' needs but a means totheir satisfaction. Marx told us thatlabor's "alien character emerges clearlyin the fact that as soon as no physical orother compulsion exists, labor isshunned like the plague" (Marx/Engels1978: 74). To properly understand visualculture the "other compulsions" notspecified by Marx must necessarily bepart of our investigations. Why do wewant to watch TV or be on the comput-er? In what sense are these compulso-ry? If the image is a development in therelations of production, a new site ofdyssemetrical exchange between"labor" and "capital" and therefore amachine for the production of valueitself, how do we explain the hold, that isthe entrenchment, of the image? Putanother way, how is the desire for televi-sion a development in expression of thedesire for money? The desire of money?Dialectical Expansion of the Image

When human beings produce forexchange and when exchange-valueglows in the pit of each and every com-modity, all things are ready to becomeimages. Indeed, they have alreadybecome images. When all things areready to become images, when eachnew object exhibits its shining forth, con-

sciousness itself becomes cinematic.The modality of this consciousness isprecisely its organization of circulatingimage-objects. We are first posited ascameras in a universe of fetish-objectsand then, in the postmodern we areabsorbed in simulation. Consciousness,now a cybernetic relation between fleshand the materiality of productionbecomes the continuous abstraction ofconcrete materials according to the lawsof exchange. To reiterate, commoditiesas proto-images induce consciousnessas proto-cinema. When necessary, thatolder, (pre-capitalist?) medium known aslanguage provides a sound track.

Cinema proper develops as a technolo-gy of consciousness, in effect achievinga higher level of abstraction and dema-terialization of the entire assembly-lineprocess (montage) and thus a more effi-cient modulation of the consciousnessof commodities. It emerges directly outof industrial process and the imaginalconsciousness attendant to the circula-tion of mass-produced commodities,and marks a qualitative shift in percep-tion due to an ever increasing quantity ofalienated sensuality. Elsewhere I havelinked the emergence of cinema to thefalling rate of profit and thus to the needto increase the rate of value extractionfrom worker/spectators. We can under-stand the spread of cinema here as theincreasing capacity of capital to capturecorporeal function to increase the lever-age of capital over worker/spectators.Thus, cinema is an alienation effect, aresult of the increasing quantity of histor-ically sedimented labor creating a shift inthe quality of capital itself. Mediationswhich formerly appeared as ontological

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thought and felt) as well as providing adisproportionate amount of commodifiedsensation to the first world rich.Unmarketable but all too necessaryexcesses, such as the experience ratherthan the spectacle of pain, of hard labor,of malnutrition, inadequate health care,governmental brutality, are reserved forthe subaltern. It is clear that images donot bring to us the transparency of soci-ety and the immediacy of democraticopinion as they were to have done withcinema verite and Dziga Vertov's kino-eye. Cinema does not bring about the"spontaneous reactualization of thesocial contract" (Foucault 1980: 161), atleast in Rousseau's sense of it. The con-tract they realize is in fact antithetical toRousseau's: Adorno and Horkheimer's"enlightenment as mass deception."Bio-Power/Image

A warning from Marx regarding the cine-ma: "Though private property appears tobe the source, the cause of alienatedlabor it is really its consequence, just asthe gods in the beginning are not thecause but the effect of man's intellectualconfusion" (Marx/Engels 1978: 79). Thisself-same relation is paramount in theformation and power of images. Thoughtoday it may appear that images are thecause of "man's intellectual confusion,"the alienation of our senses; they arereally its consequence. Such is the rea-son, for example, that Americans do notknow or did not see or did not feel thedeaths of all those Iraqis, do not dwell onthe poverty and prostitution of Asia, donot rise up to help ameliorate the dis-ease and famine imposed upon Africa,do not reckon the consequences of theirintervention in Latin America. Images

are the alienated, objectified sensualityof humanity becoming conscious foritself through the organization of con-sciousness and sense. They are anintensification of separation, capital'sconsciousness, that is, human con-sciousness (accumulated subjectivepractices) that now belongs to capital.Because our senses don't belong to us,images are not conscious for us. Orrather, they are conscious "for us" inanother sense, that is, they are con-scious in place of us. As the prostheticconsciousness of the world system,these new sites of sensuous productionserve someone or something else.Entering through the eyes, these imagesenvelop their hosts, positing worlds,bodily configurations and aspirations,utilizing the bio-power of concrete indi-viduals to confer upon their propositionsthe aspect of reality. In realizing theimage, spectators create the world.

In my discussion above of the continuitybetween objects and images in capitalistcirculation it was implied that exchange-value is the spectre in manufacturedobjects; their abstract equivalence inmoney as price is a proto-image. Whena quantity of money is given for anobject, the object is in effect photo-graphed, its impression is taken in theabstract medium of money. What isreceived in return for money is not, atthe moment of exchange, the objectitself but the commodity with its fetish-character, its affective, qualitative imagecomponent that corresponds to thatquantity known as price. We havemoney given for affect, affect for money.

This system functions by virtue of the

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duction according to Marx) drives theintensification of capitalist production inand through image culture, we shouldnot be overawed if contemporaryimages contain the algorithms of themode of production.

Here's how the algorithm is manifest inContact: Ellie Arroway (Foster) is arational and thus atheist scientist seek-ing contact with alien life. Using a radiotelescope, Arroway picks up a signalfrom an alien source, a pulsar 26 light-years away. Under what is first per-ceived to be an electronic pulsing of theprime numbers between 1 and 101, thesignal is decoded to reveal that it con-tains a retransmission of a video-imageof Hitler's visage from the first televisionbroadcast of the opening of the 1936Olympic games. This astonishing signalcontains an image that has apparentlybeen picked up and beamed back at usby intelligent life elsewhere in the uni-verse. Further decodification revealsthat under or internal to the image thesignal contains the blueprints for aspace-time machine. The plans showArroway how with existing technologiesit will be possible to build some unimag-ined machine that uncannily resemblesa tremendous 3-D phenokinetescope.No explanation is given regarding itspurpose, but the plot makes us awarethat neither the detection of the signalnor its decodifciation would haveoccurred with Arroway's haunting drivefor some sort of contact.

The machine, built with public funds atthe cost of billions of dollars, consists ofthree interlocking off-axis rings with apod in the center. As it turns out, with

increasing acceleration of its cycles thisspinning machine (which also resem-bles the great spinning wheels ofVertov's Man With A Movie Camera) cre-ates a wormhole in space-time. ForArroway and for the spectator, this path-way opens onto a profound alien con-tact, onto plenitude, the spiritual and asArroway's post trip conversion from therational to the spriritual testifies, to beliefitself. Belief, is precisely what the cine-ma creates, as Deleuze says, it is whatthe cinema films: "belief in this world, ouronly link" (Deleuze 1989: 172). As anaudience we behold that with enoughcyclical speed and state-sponsorship, achange in the spatial and temporal con-sistency of the universe appears. Suchis the result of the evolution of technolo-gies of mediation. As a result of themovement of a cyclical space-timemachine Foster travels thousands oflight-years to the tropical beach of herdreams and encounters alien life in theform of her deceased father whom shelost in childhood. Significantly, theencounter with alien presence is anencounter with her most profounddesires, her childhood, her past, and herlost dreams and her future hopes. Shehas passed through a lifetime of scientif-ic rationality to attain the plane of imma-nence.

When she returns to Earth, the percep-tion is simply that her space-poddropped directly through the rings intothe ocean below – she went nowhere.But in spite of the facts and the evi-dence, Arroway knows that she did.Thus her rational investigations lead herto affirm the primacy of her experienceas faith. Mathematically stated, reason

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(seeing, desiring) now appear as tech-nological (viewing, producing). The shiftin quantity that leads to a dialectical shiftin quality, that is, the shift in the quantityof capital that leads to a shift in the qual-ity of capital as cinema, gives rise towhat Debord ascerbically calls the"humanism of the commodity," and indi-cates a new modality for capital's val-orization. By flattering you with person-hood, capital has its way with you. Thisnew modality of capitalism has beenmost banally misunderstood as "con-sumerism." Cinema's particular adminis-tration of sensuality derives not merelyfrom the fact that it is an historical amal-gamation of sensuous labor, but sensu-ous labor alienated from the species ona higher order of magnitude requiringhigher speeds of valorization and accu-mulation. It's penetration of the humanorganism is increasingly total and totali-tarian.

The technologized visual, as somethinglike a command-central of conscious-ness, becomes en toto, like a super-con-sciousness even as it is folded into theunconscious. Taken as a whole, visualtechnologies become something like aworld wide web of management proto-cols for visual production. The technolo-gized visual is therefore at once aboveand beneath discourse, the outsideexpanse that feels like interior depth,and it is indeed the mobius-like foldinginto itself of this spatial dynamic that pro-duces the famous flattening out of thepostmodern. Famously, the outside isthe inside. Like microorganisms clingingto one another in a ring in an ocean ofimages, words desperately strive toimpose order the liquid visible by creat-

ing small enclosures of the known. Asthey become more marginal time givesway to space, consciousness to uncon-sciousness. As in Liquid Sky, whatappears as consciousness is only acomputer generated and corporatelymanaged dream. All of this unconsciousconsciousness is structured and organ-ized by the development of capital --indeed it is the development of capital.This claim would dramatize the relation-ship between capital expansion, visuali-ty, discourse, consciousness and theunconscious in a dynamic way.Narrative is unable to cope with theintensity and pressure of images Thefigure for the generalization of thisprocess by which visuality overwhelmslanguage is best apprehended in and asthe cinema itself, in which, as with thework of Metz, spectatorship is built rightinto the apparatus as one of its essentialmoments of valorization but, from anorganizational point of view, a lowerlevel function.

Such a figure for the situation of narra-tives among the images should clearlyhave an impact on cinematic texts.Indeed, in my work, I have often saidthat images of cyborgs are paradigmati-cally the cybernetic interface itself. Thegyroscopic space-time-machine in CarlSagan and Jodie Foster's film Contact,which I analyze below, supplies anotherconcise image for the new alienationeffects that are driven by the accelerat-ing cycles of capital. This claim, or forthat matter any other that argues thatcinematic texts bear the mark of a neworder of capital) should not be cause forundue surprise. Given that the fallingrate of profit (endemic to capitalist pro-

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from Earth, through the solar systemand into deep space while the sound-track, utilizing recognizable radio signalsfrom farther and farther back in time, cul-minates by passing from stellar fields,into a black hole and out of the youngEllie Arroway's eye. The implication isthat whatever is out there is also some-how inside and that there is a cosmicdestiny at work. It is as if the other isalready inside us and is shaping ourpath in ways we do not understand.Arroway's encounter with her father onthe paridiasical beach is an echo of hertime with her father as an eight year old.When he puts her to bed early in thefilm, the eight-year old Ellie asks herfather about the possibility of other life inthe universe and as he says goodnightwe see a child's drawing of a beach onher bulletin board. The narrative rein-forces this sense of destiny. Throughoutthe film the right people die and otherspropitiously intervene even if for thewrong reasons to make sure that Fosterachieves contact. At some level themessage of the film is that the cosmos,alienated through a rationality which isinterior to capital, can be somehowreappropriated through belief restoredvia cinema. In fact, Contact is quiteclear on this fact that the image, howev-er tenuous or unresolved, is our only linkto the world: The single shred of evi-dence that scientifically supportsArroway's claim to have actuallyescaped the reality principle of Earthand made contact with aliens, is that hervideo camera headset recorded 18hours of static during the split second ofEarth time that she lost radio contactwith mission control. It is that evidence,containing no specific image, but mark-

ing pure duration, which is suppressedby the national security advisor and aWhite-house aid. What is at stake in theorganization of the image is nothing lessthan national security, which in the U.S.context, means capitalism as we knowit. Although Contact is clear on theinevitable struggles within the largerframework of media-capitalism, it affirmsthe socio-political totality as being some-how one with cosmic destiny in such away the precludes a whole set of ques-tions regarding the uses of technology,to say nothing of its conditions of possi-bility. In a world-historical moment inwhich, as Fredric Jameson has pointedout, we can more easily imagine thetotal destruction of life by military orenvironmental catastrophe than we canimagine the end of capitalism, we mayobserve the catasrophic limits placedupon our imagination.

From the origins of capitalism onward,exchange-value, the pre-eminentabstraction informing the developmentof technology, has become ever moreeloquent both as an organizational forceand as a site of libidinal cathexis. Theprice inside an object which pleads withevery observer to restore the object toits rightful owner (you) finds ever morecomplex and subtle methods of assert-ing its claim on us, until, finally it is, as inContact, the cosmic other. Collectivealienation require collective reappropria-tion. Simmel already shows how moneystructures thought; cinema is the move-ment of money as experience and belief.The well known phrase "money talks"means only that exchange value hasindeed learned to speak, first throughthe subject-form and then through the

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plus mediation produces faith. Just as ina previous scene she was not able to"prove" that she loved her deceasedfather, she cannot prove the truth of hercontact with intelligent life in the cos-mos. But still something happened toher in that big space/time machine thatwe might call the cinema.

Contact is a utopian narrative abouttechnology making its progressive waythrough the cynicism and evil in theworld. In spite of human foibles, cosmicdestiny will manifest itself through theindividual. The film's recapitulation in aquasi-historical fashion of the evolutionof technology, from rudimentary mathe-matical electronic code, to the repetitiveand iconic utilization of programmaticimages that gave rise to fascism, to dig-itized images capable of encrypting lib-eratory plans, to actuating a kind of spir-itual repletion that inspires in its protag-onist an apparent transcendence of thesocial, is also a narrative about theincreasing externalization of humanpower. Put another way, the salvation ofthe species lies in contact with and recu-peration of humanistic aspirations alien-ated in techno-capitalism. What hasbeen transmitted forth (expropriated)must somehow be recuperated andredeemed. The socialist longings thatunderpinned certain dimensions of fas-cism, the love for the father that informsArroway's science, must be separatedout from the corruption of state power,big business, and genocide. Alienationmust be overcome. The forces humanshave released as capital, which "con-front us as something alien" and simulta-neously modify the very warp and woofof the universe, must also deliver the

promise of contact with what is most us,most universal -- here figured as extra-terrestrial life as the embodiment of wis-dom, cosmic destiny and life itself if liv-ing in the present is to be at all justifi-able. However, one might see in the fig-uration of the space-time machine ascipher of cosmic destiny an allegory oftelevision and the cinema as a spiritualrecompense. The Hitler broadcast isreturned to us as a sign of a greaterintelligence -- an endemic intelligencewhose destiny shaping potentialexceeded our understanding and whichholds our fate. The footage of Hitler is atonce a reprimand and a promise. Yes,the film seems to say, on the way to truthhumans have done awful things but thisgrowth process which includes thegrowth of technology can and shall beredeemed. What is not said and cannotbe said for the film to work its magic, isthat this exchange of living labor for spir-itual cinema, of life for faith, is also thenew technology of exploitation. To thefilm's credit however, Contact does fitful-ly register the calculating instrumentalityof governments and multinationals toco-opt this alien force (of cinematic tech-nologies) according to their interests.Indeed contact with originary plenitudemade possible by the new technologybecomes with the film's narrative thecentral point of question for state regula-tion, legislation and funding, and thedesire for it becomes a key political andpedagogical gamepiece.

Appropriately, Contact also registers thepossibility that science and its effectsare only the outward appearance of adeeply internalized relation. The open-ing scene in which a camera backs up

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sion are the eloquent testimony to ournon-being for ourselves: Contact inshort, an encounter with the Real. Theseafter-images of a work process cen-turies in the making are the expressionof our alienation. Our consumption ofthem is also the performance of a laborwhich allows us to continually develop alived relation to our alienation, that is,the alienation of our social product fromour will, that is, our lack. As with thoseearly gods, media images, are at first,not the cause, but the symptom of ourconfusion.

Dialectics of Alienation

To say that media, that is capitalist medi-ations, are an effect of alienation is nei-ther to indulge a luddite fantasy of areturn to a prior state of plenitude, nor todismiss the possibilities inherent in tech-nological development, but an elabo-rate, even painful endeavor to imagine aworld in which the dead and the dyingstill mattered. What are the Contact'sVegans to those who died in theHolocaust, in Vietnam, in East Timor, inRwanda, and in hundreds of thousandsof other crimes against humanity? Arethe living so eager to forget the deadwho have made them possible? Asobjects started to spiral more quickly incapital's gravitational field, and pricesbegan to circulate more widely in spaceand time, they began to whisper thenews of the death of traditional society.Money, though itself without qualities,could, if it had the price, extract the qual-ities from the commodity even if thecommodity were a human being. All ofour literary images of worn-out humansfrom Stendhal to Burroughs testify to

this process. Humanity was being hol-lowed out, consumed, eaten alive. Thisabstraction of humanity is precisely thelogic of the image (and I use the term"humanity" advisedly as the strategicantithesis of the image) -- the imageproper is the extraction and realizationof human qualities in exchange-value.The commodity begins to be truly imagewhen the material itself becomes only amedium for exchange-values now capa-ble of circulating as qualities -- qualitieswhich have become abstract, and aregeneral social currency and thus alwaystied to economistic relations. The mate-rial of the image, its substrate, suppliesonly the smallest piece of grit (a little cel-luloid, a few atoms of silicon), uponwhich the opalescent fetish will be culti-vated -- the new qualities of exchange-value. On mere inanimate matter isencrypted all the subjective pyrotech-nics and visceral intensities "belonging"to humanity. Beyond the image --thatcapitalized imaginary -- there is little leftbut the husk, the impoverished object.The correlative conversion of peopleinto instruments (means) of exchangemeant first that they became (for thesymbolic of capital) pure corporeality(existentialism/statistics), and then, puresign-image (objectification/hyper-reali-ty). From the perspective of capital,people were first deprived of subjectivity,and later, as in the case of the diasporasof third world prostitutes and domesticworkers, of body as well. When subjec-tive affects and embodiment becomethe exclusive domain of image-culture,then and only then do humans fullybecome the vehicles of images, theirsubstrate.

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machine (Marx 1986: 131-132; compareAlthusser 1971). And it speaks as if itwere a God. Money talks becauseobjectified humanity is not a metaphor inMarx, but the conversion of human sen-suality into material reality--objectifiedhumanity speaks, to, through and asbodies. This is the phenomenon thatPaul Virilio refers to in Speed andPolitics as "the habitation of metabolicvehicles," in which alien, collective log-ics overcode and administer individualbodies. However, in and as commercialcinema money speaks not in our favor,but, taken as a whole, against us, forhumanity objectified under capital is, inthe old language, an alienated humanity.Those who speak on behalf of capitalspeak as prophets of a false god in amode no less theological than any otherso-called fundametnalism. As loudly asour alienated senses call for theirrestoration in the bloody television warsor the heroic struggles of Hollywood per-sonalities, as loudly as the shadows rat-tle their chains against servitude in theframework of the Hollywood script, theirvery alienation insures that this call isnot heard as a real cry for justice, but aspure simulation, the ecstasy of commu-nication, entertainment, or what haveyou. The sensual labor which receivesand processes the alienated cries ofhumanity is itself alienated, the resultbeing that the entire bio-sociality ofquestions from justice to metaphysics isshunted back into the circuitry of capitaland remains unable to stand in opposi-tion to it. The crisis of humanity, which isrightfully ours, is itself made to exist foranother. It is one media event afteranother belonging to the god, Capital.Short of a total transformation of social

life through what Debord calls "anonslaught on the machinery of permittedconsumption" (Debord 1983: 15), weconsume our own privation as a spiritualexercise that continues to produce it.

But simulation, despite its saturating andsubsumptive character, is at the sametime a pouring forth of the Real. In asmuch as consciousness and the sensesare alienated, in as much as immediacyhas to pass through a material-con-sciousness which has required the his-tory of the capitalist world to achieve itscinematicity, Benjamin's "orchid in theland of technology" (the image that inthe cinema appears as if naturally, as ifthere were no technological apparatus)is the Real. Yes, it is not what it seems -- the mechanically reproduced objectappearing without any of its mechanicalappurtenances and becoming visible initself, is not the object itself . However,the fact of its seeming, its hyper-reality,is indeed a spilling forth of the Real. "Ina world in which really is topsy-turvy, thetrue is a moment of the false" (Debord1983: 9). The seeming itself, the veryworkings of capital, that which eludessymbolization, is that which must beanalyzed. The image is a hammer, ablade, an avalanche. All those televisedscreams, rapes, murders and warsexpress the real. It may not be that rape,that scream, that murder or that war,which is shown that is the referent of aparticular image, but the general condi-tion of rape, brutality and warfareexpresses itself in the media-imaginary.These are indeed our images.Therefore, the boquet of orchids, thetruths, the histories, the personalitiesand the intensities of cinema and televi-

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1) through the labor of looking --imagesbecome more valuable the more theyare looked at, and 2) through the self-modification embarked upon by specta-tors as they retool themselves, the com-plete political economy of this image,remains to be written.

What began with Lumiere and Edison asa speculator's novelty became an attrac-tion, then became a montage of attrac-tions, and, at present, has become themain attraction, in some cases, the onlyattraction. The moving image emergesfirst as an apparent spin-off from indus-try at a moment when its conditionswere already given by the growingindustrial revolution as the movement ofprice. Cinema as the abstraction of theassembly-line process and enhance-ment of the sensual pyrotechnics of thecommodity brings the industrial revolu-tion to the eye. Let us listen to GuyDebord:

The commodity's domination was at firstexerted over the economy in an occultmanner; the economy itself, the materialbasis of social life, remained unper-ceived and not understood, like thefamiliar which is not necessarily known.In a society where the concrete com-modity is rare or unusual, money, appar-ently dominant, presents itself as anemissary armed with full powers whospeaks in the name of an unknownforce. With the industrial revolution, thedivision of labor in manufactures, andmass production for the world market,the commodity appears in fact as apower which comes to occupy social life.It is then that political economy takesshape, as the dominant science and the

science of domination.

The spectacle is the moment when thecommodity has attained the total occu-pation of social life. Not only is the rela-tion to the commodity visible but it is allone sees: the world one sees is itsworld. Modern economic productionextends its dictatorship extensively andintensively. In the least industrializedplaces, its reign is already attested by afew star commodities and by the imperi-alist domination imposed by regionswhich are ahead in the development ofproductivity. In the advanced regions,social space is invaded by a continuoussuperimposition of geological layers ofcommodities. At this point in the "secondindustrial revolution," alienated con-sumption becomes for the masses aduty supplementary to alienated produc-tion. It is all the sold labor of a societywhich globally becomes the total com-modity for which the cycle must be con-tinued. For this to be done, the totalcommodity has to return as a fragmentto the fragmented individual, absolutelyseparated from the productive forcesoperating as a whole. Thus it is here thatthe specialized science of dominationmust in turn specialize: it fragments itselfinto sociology, psychology, cybernetics,semiology, etc., watching over the self-regulation of every level of the process.

When the commodity becomes "all onesees," cinema emerges as a machine --the crystallization of an extant sociallogic -- to regulate the expression ofcommodities. The academic disciplinesare the necessary sub-strata of imageprocessing. Elsewhere I have writtenabout the emergence of psychoanalysis

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Imaginary War

Just as the vicissitudes of the moneyeconomy cause, simultaneously with thedevelopment of production, the emer-gence of ever more complex monetarytechnologies and properties (from goldto paper money, to debt and credit, tostocks, bonds and options), the visualeconomy develops its own form of visu-al technologies and properties: tablets,coins, paintings, lithographs, photo-graphs, films, video, computers. Eachsuccessive innovation in the technologyof mediation allows for new social func-tions which at once provide for and forceincreasing individualization. Credit cardscreate individual money to be paid bythe bearer whereas money was generalcredit, to be paid by anyone. Videoallows us to create our own images sothat we might more completely trans-pose ourselves and our perceptions inaccord with the logic of cinema. Eachallows for the naturalization/institutional-ization of the dialectically prior medium.As credit shows that money is a com-modity, video shows that filmic percep-tion is a commodity. Each of thesedevelopments signifies a (spatio-tempo-ral) crisis for the previous technology --credit, for example, before becoming anentity to be bought and sold by broker-age firms arises from a shortage ofmoney. Just as (to an extent) credit isthe image of paper money, and papermoney is the image of gold and gold(perhaps the first genuine image) is theimage of exchange value, video is theimage of film, film is the image of pho-tography, and photography is the imageof sketching. To a certain extent, thevisual technologies mentioned would

allow for an accounting of the socialactivities historically indexed by theirmoney-form analogs. These separatestrains coalesce in and as the comput-ers which second by second image (withinterest) the business of the world(finance capital), on Wall Street, inHollywood and around the world.

Cinema (the history of cinema as notmerely the history of its institutions butas the history of the visual economy, its"open book") is the spectacle ofexchange accelerating its own logic; it isexchange as spectacle and the corollaryeffects of exchange as spectacle. Thecorollary effects -- including the actualcirculation of image-commodities andthe affective results of this circulation --are necessary for capital's valorization.For the moment, cinema thus under-stood is the crucial juncture because itspans the gamut of the different scalesof production, from the simulation of aglobe (as "the global"), to multinationalcorporations, to the grit of the world, thesubject along with its interiorities, viscer-alities and intensities, as well as the far-flung global population. Historically, cin-ema is first posited by exchange as thecirculation of prices and then, today, pre-supposed by exchange. The commodityis designed as an image by the architec-ture of capital. In becoming an industryunto itself, cinema moves political econ-omy to a new level of organization. "Thespectacle is capital to such a degree ofaccumulation that it becomes an image"(Debord 1983: 34). Cinema valorizesthis higher order of capital -- it is theorganization and extension of the spec-tacle. Although we can say that theimage is productive in two distinct ways:

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Marx's extensive tabulation of prices,could be considered empirical data for apolitical economy of culture:Psychoanalysis, for example, as the sci-ence of a new set of phenomena emerg-ing from the intensification of the inter-ruption of language function by theimage (Lacan's objet petit a as theimage itself) (Beller s.a.). The inflationand eventual devaluation of the psycheand psychoanalysis (its migration frommedicine to advertising), or the cycle ofboom and bust in semiotics are histori-cal shifts indexing the overall saturationof consciousness by images (where theunconscious, meaning, and postmoderndepthlessness become something likethree stages of the image). As well,there is the production of consciousnessitself, as a screen (in Lacan's terminolo-gy), a machine which affects the samepresentation and filtration practices asattend to moving images and circulatingcommodities. Behind the shine of thescene on the screen, knowledge of theproduction process is left on the cuttingroom floor, along with those with whoseblood the image was made. The repres-sion of history and of the perpetual vio-lence which today underpins the consti-tution of all Western subjects is dis-placed by the total occupation of life bythe spectacle. Thus the spectacle andthe attendant emergence of disciplinaryand industrial specializations as sci-ences of the particular dimensions of thehuman interface with the objectifiedworld show that all interactive sites arenow potentially productive sites -- sitesof capital investment and exploitation,but also (and here is the as yet unwrittenaccompaniment to this map of domina-tion) sites of struggle.

We have heard that in the postmodernstruggle occurs over representation, notin the modern sense of political repre-sentation (which today seems to be buta marginal sub-routine of the overarch-ing capitalist program) but over repre-sentations--style politics, performativity,"articulation," etc. Representation, pres-entation, performance are forms of cur-rency that confer buying power.Televisual currency for example pro-duces competence in social codes, thatis, socially necessary codes (in thesense of socially necessary labor time)which translate into, among other things,access to power. That is why everyonewants to know the news, be the fashion,talk the talk, and surf the wwweb. In themost pernicious (widespread) forms ofpostmodern media-culture, democracyis everywhere proclaimed and classstruggle everywhere submergedbecause the representatives of repre-sentation claim (under their breath) apartial truth as total truth:Representation is not about money, rep-resentation is style, and anyone canhave that. Yet, in the manner ofBaudrillard's For A Critique of thePolitical Economy of the Sign, the codeswithin representation provide access tomoney--and vice-versa. What we con-sume is the process of commodificationas culture, what we produce is ourselvesas commodities. One thinks here ofBenjamin's description of fascist aes-thetics in which we are invited to con-sume our own destruction as an aes-thetic pleasure of the highest order.

The fact that so many wannabe citizenstoday invest in style shows only what wethink we already know and understand:

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and semiotics as subroutines of image-capitalism. Additionally, cinemaemerges as the development and theintensification of the form of conscious-ness necessary to the increased mobi-lization of objects as commodities. WhatDebord refers to as "the second industri-al revolution" develops as a strategy forthe production of and control over whatBenjamin refers to in his writing as "sec-ond nature," i.e., the techno-mechanicalworld. The movement of commoditiesappear as a complex of natural forceswhose rules must be learned. "To makethis whole enormous technologicalapparatus of our time into the object ofhuman interiorization and appropriation[Innervation]--that is the historic task inwhose service film has its true mean-ing". The expressive power of the sys-tem of production and circulation ofcommodities develops a conviction inthe spectator/consumer/worker of the allpervasive power of the world of objectsand of the objective world, or more pre-cisely, of their images. Such subjectiveexperience of the force of objects and ofobjective organization as cinema (as thecinematic aspect of society) is the otherside of the "science" of political econo-my, of psychology, of anthropology, theaffective side. To paraphrase Simmel,the exact engineering of (second) natureis the practical counterpart to the institu-tion of money. The calculus of the imagemeans then, the production of meaningand affect in accord with the requisitesof capital valorization via exchange-value in motion. As natural philosophy,media programming, because of its highdegree of mathematical calculability–the statistical process which can be uti-lized to predict the affectivity of the

image -- approaches the Kantian criteriafor science invoked by Simmel.

So. Everyone knows that it is the devel-opment of technology that makes possi-ble all those great stories, all those newstyles, all those new fetish objects thataccompany the age of cinema, but rep-resentational technologies do not onlytrain us to cope with the conditionsattendant to a particular historicalmoment's circulation of value. The"duty" of alienated consumption men-tioned above by Debord is a form ofdressage for the senses--it is a produc-tive activity-- a ritual practice of those"other compulsions" to labor mentionedabove by Marx. Neither does the emer-gence of the spectacle as "the totaloccupation of life by commodities" limititself to the inauguration of science-frag-ments such as sociology, psychology,cultural studies, etc. (and their attendant"star systems"), which are cognitionmachines for particular constellations ofcorporeal phenomenon and socialorganization, that are at base economic-- the survival of disciplines dependsupon their economic productivity, i.e.,their productive engagement with newtypes of images.

The spectacle begins to emerge fromthe money-form as we have known it --not only in the production of codes oncomputer screens for statistically evalu-ating complex options packages on WallStreet (these codes are money) but inthe commonplace conventions of socialcodes: screened "representations" and"programming." The disciplines men-tioned above might be taken as the cat-alogues of phenomena which, like

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References

Althusser, Louis. "Ideology andIdeological State Apparatuses: Notestowards an Investigation." in Lenin andPhilosophy. New York: Monthly ReviewPress, 1971.

Benjamin Walter. "The Work of Art in theAge of Mechanical Reproduction." inIlluminations. ed. Hannah Arendt. NewYork: Schocken Books, 1969.

Beller, Jonathan. "Dziga Vertov & TheFilm of Money." boundary 2 vol. 26, no.3 (Fall 1999); 151-199[http://128.220.50.88/journals/bound-ary/v026/26.3beller.html].

"The Spectatorship of the Proletariat."boundary 2 Vol. 22, No. 3 (Fall1995):171-228.

“The Unconscious of the Unconscious".Unpublished manuscript. Sine anno.

Debord, Guy. The Society of theSpectacle. Detroit: Black and Red,1983.

Deleuze, Gilles. Cinema 2: The Time-Image. trans. Hugh Tomlinson andRobert Galeta. Minneapolis: MinnesotaPress, 1989.

Foucault. Michel, "The Eye of Power: Aconversation with Jean-Pierre Barouand Michelle Perrot." inPower/Knowledge, New York:Pantheon, 1980.

Marx, Karl and Friedrich Engels. KarlMarx and Frederick Engels. Collected

Works, vol. 28. Moscow: ProgressPublishers, 1971.

Economic and Philosophic Manuscriptsof 1844, in Karl Marx and FriedrichEngels, The Marx-Engels Reader, ed.,Robert C. Tucker, New York: Norton,1978.

Simmel, Georg. The Philosophy ofMoney. 2nd edition, ed. David Frisby.trans. Tom Bottomore and David Frisby.New York and London: Routledge, 1990.

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that style has, in the postmodern,become a privileged realm of struggle.However the play of struggle in style(which has genuinely uplifting as well asdevastating effects) produces sociallycooperative subjects and rarely disturbsthe overall organization of cinematicsociety with its absolute dependenceupon and non-representation of third-world labor. Indeed, style-politics maybe gleaned as part of the so-called cul-tural turn that at once marks the eco-nomicization of sensuality, and charac-terizes the current liberal multi-culturalde-essentialization of terrorists.Communists, Orientals, Africans,African-Americans, Latin Americans andArabs who were formerly terrorists byvirtue of race and/or nation, are nowsuch because of their flawed culture. Orso goes the mainstream rationalism inthe USA Today. Whoever agrees withand thrives under the violent hierarchicalregime betokened by the infinitely hypo-critical liberal values of late capitalism, isfine, as good as white for the most part;and, as far as the regime of culture isconcerned, whoever protests is a terror-ist (spelled with an "n"). Thus, the eco-nomicization of perception results in aworld-scale transcoding of racism andcapitalism as matters of culturalism ("themuslim world"), while allowing all the vir-ulence of racism and economic exploita-tion to continue to wreak its violence onthe world. As a necessary part of theprocess, the pentagon reconfiguresnuclear bombs, annexes huge alloca-tions of human value (cash), continuesits murderous presence on every conti-nent and broadcasts a mis-en-scene offear fostered by ignorance. Not a prettypicture, but it's ours, or rather, of us. Let

us work to retransmit it not to inspire animaginary transcendence, but rathersuch that all can taste the blood inherentin each pixel and be impelled to makethe world anew.

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domination of the aristocracy. The Petit-bourgeois type is „reactionary and utopic”and has found itself stuck in a „pathetichangover”. The german socialism so-called „real” socialism is the one mostseverely disputed. It has been the ser-vant of absolutistic governmentsbecause, as Marx and Engles, the twoartists of the post-hegel dialect establish,its theses have turned into their ownopposite. And the literature of this self-styled socialism is „dirty and drowsy”.The conservative bourgeoise socialism,for instance that of Proudhon, is merely a„retoric figure”, which only has in view theperpetuation of the present. As for theutopic socialism, to which Saint-Simon,Fourier and Owen would belong to, it istreated with more gentleness, like an„unreal portrayal” characteristic of astage of under-development of prole-tarism. It has lost its practical meaning inorder to devide itslef in a series of „reac-tionary sects”.This view of the socialist movementreveals one of the major purposes of TheManifest of the Comunist Party :The jus-tifying of the domination over the revolu-tionary movement, while all the otherdoctrines, parties and characters of thesocialist scene are denounced of actuallybeing antirevolutionary and true objectiveallies of the bourgeoisie. In this contextthe fact that Marx and Engels use theterm „comunism” is almost ostentacious.They do not simply expose the principlesof socialism but also those of its authen-tic and revolutionary version: comunism.This exclusive theory on revolution, to thebenefit of which the socialist ideology ispurified and reformulated, has threemajor parts. Firstly it contains a diagnosisof the present situation, which must leadto the conclusion that an objective and

revolutionary change is necessary.Secondly The Manifest stipulates theways of effective political struggle inorder to take over. Thirdly, it is an actionprogram meant to reform society. Let ustake into consideration the content of TheManifest in this logical order.The diagnosis of this situation is elaborat-ed such as to enunciate the conclusionaccording to which revolution is a neces-sity produced by objective causes andnot by the free will of the parties involved.The presentation of these causes is thereason of a reconstruction of history fromthe unique perspective of the „classstruggle”. Since Ancient Rome to presentday, society has been continuously divid-ed in antagonistic classes, more precis-sely exploiting classes, and exploitedclasses. The nature of this oposition haschanged periodically, because of reasonswhich depend on the changing of „ themeans of production and of trade”. Whythe latter’s change from time to time,Marx and Engels neglect to explain, butthey assure us that this change of thematerial conditions of production alsogenerates a change of the productionrelations. It is the class tructure of socie-ty which modifies itslef as such. This alsoinvolves a transformation of the dominantideas of the time.These are the ideas of„the dominant class”. And these repre-sentations, conceptions and notionschange because they depend on the „liv-ing conditions”. History, in its whole, isthus interpreted as being a great causalchane of events, whose links are madeup of the ways of material production.Economic history is the position fromwhich nature and the dynamics of thebourgeois society will be evaluated. Itsanalysis occupies a large part of TheManifest of the Comunist Party.

The Theory of revolution in The Manifest of the Comunist Party

Karl Marx was a theoretician of the revo-lution. Initially, this statement might seemuselessly elementary, just like that of afamous 19th century professor whoopened his English History course bysaying „Gentlemen, England is anisland”. But it is important to keep in mindthat the Albion has this position in com-parison to the Continent in order to emitthe reasons of past events. Also it isimpossible to overlook the fact that forMarx and Engels the Revolution is thecentral idea around which most of thearguments of their writing are structured.The revolutionary intent explains, first ofall, something often ignored. That is thatthe Manifest of the Comunist Party is alsoa critical, many times even hostile,exposee of the rival socialist conceptions.The entire third part, called The Socialistand Comunist Literature, by far the mostsystematic section of the paper, is dedi-cated to this purpose. According to thetwo authors of The Manifest there arethree types of socialism: 1.the reac-tionary type (which in its turn can be a.feudalistic; b.petit-bourgeoise; c.ger-man); 2. the conservative type; and 3.thecritical-utopic socialism. The degree towhich these curents are attacked var-ries.The „feudalistic” socialism is actuallythat socialism sustained from a christianperspective, which only sanctifies the

by Catalin Avramescu˘ ˘

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Manifest. But the aparent simplicity of thescheme of the historical conflict, as it isrebuilt by Marx and Engles as a strugglebetween opposite forces, is based on acomplex set of accusations, not alwayssystematic or explicit.Why should the proletariat reject thebourgeoisie and its dominant class?Some of the justifications that Marx andEngles propose are of moral nature andin the context of the age seem trite. Fromsome of the wording of the authors,spread throughout the entire work, wecan deduce that the capitalist system isbad because it implies that some will livein luxury and others in misery.Furthermore it sustains the reign of thefinancial interest for which everything ismeant to be bought or sold. Capitalismalso implies a certain general competitivespirit that Marx and Engles fiind to berepulsive and seem to think that the read-er of the manifest will also. However theydo not offer clear reasons for makingsuch a statement.At least one of the arguments of the twoauthors has its roots rather in the conser-vative and reactionary mentality of thetime than in the eulogy of industrialprogress which we can fiind in certainparts of the text. For instance, whenspeaking of the implications of introduc-ing mechanized production and the divi-sion of labor The Manifest claims that, inthis kind of conditions working has lost allapeal to the worker whose salarydecreases continuously while the intensi-ty of the effort he invests continues toincrease. The worker thus becomesmerely an appendage of the machine orso claim Marx and Engels. However,wedo not fiind aut why the machine wouldstop to annex the worker after the elimi-nation of the bourgeoise hold on the

industry.But the main argument of the anticapital-istic pleading from „The Manifest of theComunist Party” is also based on thereconstruction of the logics of the histori-cal development of capitalism, econstruc-tion which, as we have shown, is trying todemonstrate that the system of the bour-geoise order holds an objective contra-diction in the principle of its existance.We saw that this fundamental contradic-tion is that of the production capacity,actually dominated by the proletariat, andthe production relations, dominated bythe bourgeoisie. Between these twopoles there is an effective movement ofdistancing, movement which is to lead tothe distruction of the capitalistic societywhose origins are in the divergent evolu-tion of the two main classes of this socie-ty.At this point we have to take into accountan important particuliarity of the revolu-tionary doctrine of The Manifest. The the-ory on the history of the class struggle isaccompanied( in the context of an analy-sis of the nature of the bourgeoise socie-ty) by a conception about the nature ofthe agent of the comunist revolution, theproletariat, that is, obviously, the last andmost important product of the technicaland economical evolution that capitalismwent through. In the context of socialevolution only to enemy classes can nowrival, say Marx and Engels, because themodern era simplified the class antago-nisms. Why did this happen? Becausethe industrial system attracts more andmore people from all the social classes. Itmay seem that the destiny of all thesocial classes is to merge into the prole-tariat and not even the ruling class will bean exception. The possibility of only twodivergent entities is declared in the con-

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In the time of the bourgeoisie all thematerial factors, which had been at workin other times as well, were acting. Thedifference was that the effects were nowdeeper because the nature of these fac-tors had changed. At this point Marx’ andEngels’ theory reveals a deeply dualessence which the two authors wouldhave undoubtebly assumed as a neces-sary consequence of the dialectic visionon the fight of the opposites and on thepassing from the stage of contradiction tothat of synthesis. On the one side, thebourgeoisie played a completely revolu-tionary part in history. It destroyed feudal-ism, the old mentalities and it revolution-ized the instruments of production. (Howthis revolutionary tendency that the bour-geoisie is forced to comfront in order tosurvive goes with the thesis according towhich only production instruments deter-mine the resettlement of the productionrelations is a mystery that the authorsdon’t clear up). On the other hand howev-er, the bourgeoisie produced, in the pro-duction system that is characteristic to itand with the help of which it destroyedfeudalism, the very same people that willend its existance meaning the prole-taries. The start and development of thisclass are made necessary by theprogress of the bourgeoisie.Three phenomena seem to chracterizethe progress of this order. First of all theextension of capitalism on a planetaryscale. Its cosmopolitan character provesin the eyes of Marx and Engles that theexploitation and the removal of the capi-talistic order are problems that exceedthe national frame. Also the consolidationof the bourgeoisie lead to the enlarge-ment of the cities. There is thereforepressure to eliminate the „idiocy” of therural life. For the authors of The Manifet

of the Comunist Party , the scene onwhich contemporary history is unravelingis that of the large city. Finally, the tri-umph of capitalism is also the triumph ofcentralization.A system that tends to have only onecenter of comand, whose power basiscan be found in the enormous cities ofmodern industry and on which practicallythe entire population depends on; that isthe capitalism whose overthrowing isforseen by The Manifest. At the origin ofthis over-throwing is the same kind ofobjective determination that generated itin the first place. The warning sign andalso the formula of the disolution of thebourgeois order is the economical crisis,more „universal” and more „tremendous”as the fundamental contradiction of thecapitalist society deepens. This crisiseludes the determinations of the individ-ual will. Because this is a phenomenon ofuniversal proportions. An entire world istransforming under the eyes of the actorsof history and the great spectacle of thistransformation requires an appropriatevocabulary, with milenar influences.Thus, we read that the bourgeoisie is asincapable to control the present crisis asthe wizard is to master the power of thehell that it has provoked.The contradiction identified by Marx andEngles is that between the capacity ofproduction and the production relations.We have seen that as the bourgeoisiedevelops it determines its opposite, theproletariat. The bourgeoisie, which wasthe condition under which the proletariescame to exist thus denies form a histori-cal perspective, its own existance. Butwhy do these two classes have such acategorically antagonistic proclivity?The justification of this antagonism is oneof the most important goals of The

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of the population needs to grow in orderto undermine social coherence (theadvanced arguments of the AbbotGregoire before the French Revolution inhis essay about the situation and theassimilation of the jews). While the firstscenario is that of a total populationgrowth the second apocalyptic scenariocan be characterized as a relative growthone. The theory of revolution, in the ver-sion that the authors of the Manifest pres-ent, is essentially a conception on theconsequences of the relative growth ofone segment of the population. The pro-letariat is developing more through theprolatarization of members of other class-es while the bourgeoisie’s numbers aredecreasing through its focus on industryon a large scale. Marx and Engles alsoshow, in a manner similar to otherauthors’ who precede them, that thisincrease of a certain part of the popula-tion is also a progress of poverty. The lastelement seems to be crucial in the pre-cipitation of the catastrophy becausepoverty is increasing faster than the pop-ulation is. A silent suposition of the textseems to be that the society resourcesthat the social classes can draw are limit-ted. The two think that this will lead to asituation in which the proletariat thatfeeds the bourgeoisie isn’t even capableof feeding itself. In this situation, the bour-geoisie has no way of feeding the prole-tariat and the latter’s existence will bemarked by a fundamental negation that ishowever susceptible to a revolutionarysolution.At this point let us see what the politicalstruggle solution is. This solution wouldresult in the removal of the bourgeoisieform its dominant position in society. Theclass struggle, which has reached thestage where it has to fight for existance,

is always a struggle of political naturealthough Marx and Engles never explainwhy. It is not lead only by the proletariatbut also by what the authors believe to bethe true vanguard of the revolutionarymovement: the comunists. They are asection of the proletariat that rises abovethe situation of the working class fromany country or time and represent theinterests of the working class movementin general because they have the „supe-riority of understanding the historical con-ditions clearly”. The Manifest doesn’texplain the origin of this superiority. It ispossible that the criticizing of the othersocialist curents seemed enough forMarx and Engels to assert the fact thatcomunists represent the entire proletarymovement and that they alone lead to itsprogress. Even more strange seems thestatement according to which Germany isthe country on the verge of a proletaryrevolution. There is nothing in the textthat would explain such a thesis so it isquite possible that the only reason for it isthe fact that The Manifest was primarilymeant for an audience of exiled radicalsfrom Germany. As for the iminent revolu-tion Marx and Engles don’t leave roomfor unclarity this time; the revolution canonly be „the violent overthrowing of theentire social order untill this date”. Why ithas to be violent the text does notexplain. Just as it doesn’t explain whatkind of violence is preferable or neces-sary: a classic civil war, an urban scan-dal, a violent strike, a coup d’etat, aseries of political attacks?We were proving that the third set ofassertions from „The Manifest of theComunist Party” is an action programwhich would affect the comunist reforma-tion of society. Three things must be saidabout this program in its ensemble. The

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text of the admittance of the fact that theclass structure of the bourgeois societycontinues to be complex even when thecomunist revolution is iminent.. There areother middle classes but the only thingwe find aut about them is that they arenot „truly revolutionary” . The only socialclass that Marx and Engels consider torise to this standard is the proletariat.The brief characterization of the „lumpen-proletariat” („the passive rotteness of thelowest parts of society) can create evenmore bewilderment. This cathegory, theauthors think, is attracted in the revolu-tionary battle only by chance but is usual-ly enclined to let itself be „bought forcounterrevolutionry purposes”. The con-clusion that we can draw from thse accu-sations is that the proletariat per se isafter all, the least encouraged and sup-ported from an economical point of viewin the capitalistic society. Although occa-sional complains might leave anotherimpression, the proletariat that Marx andEngels talk about ultimately appears asbeing a very well organized social class,with a level of training and with a con-science that doesn’t allow us to singlethem out as being merely the wretched ofthe great industrial cities. This is not at allby chance. On the contrary it is a neces-sary consequence of the same economi-cal and social history that lead the way tothe top for many of the theses in TheManifest of the Comunist Party. At theend of capitalism’s evolutionary processthere is a proletariat already organizedfor the great historical battle that liesahead. This is a perverse effect of theor-ganization of labour. Although paid laboursupposes the competition of the workers,Marx and Engles say, the great industryinduces the unitin of the proletaries into amilitary organized mass. Therefore, there

is a progress of the organization of theproletariat that makes is power grow as itis „concentrated into larger masses”. Theclass theory in „The Manifest of theComunist Party” foresees a progressivehistorical tendency of merging and thenreplacing of the class nature of the pro-latariat with that of organization.Under these conditions what exactly isthe basis of the determination schemeregarding the possiblity of a total and finalconfrontation between the proletariat andthe bourgeoisie? In other words whatkind of earthly historical force makes thedestiny of the two classes so dramaticand oposing? This is a fundamental issuethat „The Manifet of the Comunist Party”formulates. But the answer the authorsoffer is far from beeing as original as ithas often been thought to be especially inthe political left wing milieu. The twomerely rephrase, in the context of someeconomical speculation, arguments thathad been going around since the 17thcentury and that would make a better fitin the vocabulary of the moral analysis ofthe 18th century. More precissely the the-ory of revolution in The Manifest of theComunist Party must be attached to themassive set of theories about thedinamycs of the population, especially tothose sides of it that sustain the possibil-ity of the existance of a scenario of popu-lation growth that would lead to thedestroying of the political class.We can destinguish between two mainversions of the foremenationed scenario.One of them claims that an aboluteincrease of the population ultimatelyleads to the ruining of society and itsmost notorious spokesman is ThomasRobert Malthus with his Essay on thePrinciple of Population from 1797.Another version claims that only one part

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first one is that the movement in questionis presenting itself as being one „of thegrand majority for the grand majority”.This implies two supositions:1. that theinterests of the non-proletary minoritydon’t deserve to be respected and 2. thatthe proletariat is lacking in internal divi-sions that would have a political rele-vance. The second thing worth pointingout is that the point of view of the prole-tariat is postulated as being an extremelyradical one and not one of reformist com-promises. Since the proletaries havenothing of their own Marx and Englesshow that they can only annihilate anyprivate guranties imposed by the bour-geoisie. Thirdly (and this is probably thebest known characteristic of the comunisttheory) the matter of property is declared„fundamental”. With the basis of a toughalthough not original incrimination of thebourgeois property, the authors of theManifest suggest the elimination ofprovate property. Does that mean theelimination of every kind of property?Marx and Engles answer is a negativeone. They say that only bourgeois privateproperty would be eliminated.It is not clear if that also means the elim-ination of any kind of „personal” propertyregardless of who it may belong to. Thetext is anbiguous when dealing with this.We are assured that comunism doesn’tforbid people to possess things but wefind out that the „things” are „social”goods. Thinking probably that the bestdefense is ofense, Marx and Englesclaim that the order that truly eliminatedthe private property for nine tenths of itsmemebers is actually the same societybased on that kind of property, meaningthe bourgeois society. Therefore theManifest proposes a kind of order inwhich private property is replaced by

„colective” or „social” property. Thus, theresult would be a situation that impliesthe transformation of social relationssuch as family ones in the sense of theelimination of their bourgeois forms in thename o „comunizing”. The principle thatthey wish to fulfil seems to be that of theelimination of the antagonisms betweenclasses, but we must admit that beyondthe strong criticism towards the capitalis-tic order, we can’t precissely distinguishhow this new society and especially howsocial life, particularly the productionwould be organized in a society charac-terized by public property. We do fiind outthat once the class differences disappearthe political nature of public power willshare the same fate but the precise ele-ments in the comunist program thatwould give us a coherent image on whatthis would mean are very few. What iseven more serious is that they are con-stantly mixed with certain stipulationsconcerning the exact short term meas-ures to be taken in order to ensure thevictory of the comunist revolution. Afterthe first step which is a political victory ofthe proletariat over the bourgeoisie therefollows the using of this dominant politicalposition to take hold of the entire capitalby gradually ripping it from the hands ofthe capitalists through „a despoticencroaching of the right to property”. It isvery important to mention the fact thatnew dominant classes must emerge inorder to encrease „the capacity of pro-duciton as soon as possible”. The rea-sons for such a specification are notexplicitly enunciated but they undoubte-bly depend on the fact that the revolutionis precipitated, as we have seen, by theincapacity of a majoritary and alwaysencreasing segment of the population toensure its own existance. We are not told

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on what basis the new administrators willassure this rapid encrease of productionand of the social capital. Therefore aneconomical doctrine is missing from „TheManifest of the comunist Party”. This eco-nomical doctrine would assure the work-ers that in the case of public property theindustry will be run much more efficientlythan in that of the capitalistic competition.However this doctrine seems to be oblig-atory if we take into account the fact thatMarx and Engles admit that the firstactions of the new power might prove tobe „unsustainable and not enough” froman economical standpoint. The solutionthat they adopt is as expeditive as it isspeculative and it consists in the dogmat-ic statement that these measures areinevitable and they „excceed themselvesthroughout the movement”.The entire program of the Comunist Partyis marked by a powerful dose of the arbi-trary, since its authors admit that themeasures that will be taken will differfrom country to country. However a seriesof ten measures will be possible „almosteverywhere”. As we have proven, mostof them are circumstancial and originateform the need of total victory over thebourgeoisie like for instance number four(confiscating the properties of all the imi-grants and rebels”) and number two (alarge progressive tax). Others however,reveal that at the far end of „ TheManifest of the comunist Party” there is acentralized state that takes hold of theentire social capital and imposes unto allthe same way of living, without privateproperty, dominated by physical labour.Here are a few examples measure num-ber 3 ( the elimination of the inheretanceright), 6 (the centralization of all transportmeans to the state), 7 ( the increase ofthe numbers of state enterprises … the

emprovement of the quality of the landfollowing the steps proposed by a com-mon plan), 8 (Mandatory labour for all),10 ( the combining of education withmaterial production).Immediately after its publication, in therevolutionary context of the year 1848,this essential document of the comunistrevolution went practicaly unnoticedalthough throughout the later history ofthe socialist movement practicly everythesis sustained by the Manifest wascontested or revised if not adopted (which happened oftenly).The role of theParty in the revolutionary movement, therole of the state in the comunist society,the forms of violence in the working class’movment, the potential possibility of thebourgeois democracy’s frame in the classstruggle, the radical nature of thereforms. These are just some of thethemes that animated debates in socialistand comunist circles in the 19th and 20thcentury. The history of these controvers-es and of the effects that they had is fartoo complex to be even indicated in thispaper. It is more important to mention thatMarx and Engels wrote the Manifest atthe end of the year 1847 when they weretwo young political imigrants who foundthe system of their contemporary societyrevolting. Marx lived forty more year afterhe wrote this text and Engels almost fiftymore. In this time they wrote much moreand the political, social and economicalorder of the 19th century changed con-siderably. Although some of their workcan be interpreted as a nuance of thetheses that they exposed in „TheManifest of the Comunist Party” one thingis for certain Marx and Engels, along withthe orthodox marxists, have alwaysadhered to the same principles of thecomunist revolution.

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Xavier Ribas: Mud

by Felix Vogel

Xavier Ribas’ landscape-photography seriesMud consists of 30 photographs showing bareground with dry ocher mud. The photographswere taken at the place of the Maya villagePanabaj, on the shores of Atitlan Lake inGuatemala. The village Panabaj was buriedunder a mudslide on 5th October 2005 due tohurricane Stan. Just a few days after thecatastrophe the place was officially declaredas a mass grave, burying approximately 800Panabaj inhabitants five meters under theground.

Mud just shows the earth and its violence thatcould put a whole city under ground. There areonly little remains of a city, not more than a sin-gle puzzle piece (Untitled Mud #19).Sometimes you observe little signs of humaninvention – doughty sticks that were put in theground, little stones or footprints to mark theformer houses, street and places, hopingagainst hope to rebuilt the village again – oth-erwise you could think that it is just earth, earthwithout history. Only these little hints let youguess that there was something; that the placehas a history. But still, we can only see tracesof what was there earlier and we are forced toimagine a landscape that had to look so muchdifferent than shown in the photographs. Wehave to search this traces and built our ownimage of a village that we have never seenand we will never see again. Moreover, thesesigns of human invention evoke associationswith ancient Maya cult-sculptures; sculptures,which had a religious/cultic function. Now, it isquestionable, if the special composition ofsticks in Untitled Mud #21 or the circles inUntitled Mud #27 have a cultic function – theymost likely are just there to mark somethinginvisible – but their reference to a history ofsymbols (of the past) or a history of icons isobvious and isn’t it a metaphysical function, ifthese sticks mark something that cannot be

seen again, if they transcend the invisiblenessof the lost city?

In Mud, past, present and future are constant-ly visible, but not in a chronological order,rather it could be argued that every three timesmelt together to a meta-time. Likewise, thereare obvious similarities to the archeologicalexcavations in ancient Pompeii, but with thebig difference that in Pompeii you just see thepast today, whereas in Panabaj past, presentand future are visible all at once.

I would like to argue that Mud does not onlyconfront us with a geographical problem (trop-ical climate, mudslides, rain forest and thehuman invention in biological micro and macrosystems), but also with a socio-political, oreven better: biopolitical problem.Guatemala has been – with the help of theUSA as a fact of the bipolar world order – in astate of civil war, which is sometimes evendescribed as genocide, for a period of 36years. Anti-communist military dictatorshipsdid not take care of their population, above allthe Maya residents, who were the biggest vic-tims of the civil war. Since then, the situationseems to have changed, but 2004 the nation-al-conservative Óscar Berger Perdomobecame head of state and now the violation ofhuman rights is nothing rare for a second time.The conflicts between urban and rural regionsare fought with many victims and behind thedemocratic surface no one seems to careabout the rural population. Ironically, theinhabitants of Panabaj are buried under a “sur-face”, without showing much of the past – asurface that is allocated with geographicalcatastrophes, but it is actually a symptom oftoday’s biopolitics. Now, in Ribas’ series Mud,we just see the visualization of consequencesof biopolitical practices in a country that (still)struggles with its past, present and future.

EXTENT

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Xavier Ribas, Untitled (Mud #4), 2006, C-print, 50 x 60 cm. Ed. 6. Courtesy: ProjecteSD gallery.

Xavier Ribas, Untitled (Mud #6), 2006, C-print, 50 x 60 cm. Ed. 6. Courtesy: ProjecteSD gallery.

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Xavier Ribas, Untitled (Mud #19), 2006, C-print, 50 x 60 cm. Ed. 6. Courtesy: ProjecteSD gallery.

Xavier Ribas, Untitled (Mud #21), 2006, C-print, 50 x 60 cm. Ed. 6. Courtesy: ProjecteSD gallery.

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Xavier Ribas, Untitled (Mud #25), 2006, C-print, 50 x 60 cm. Ed. 6. Courtesy: ProjecteSD gallery.

Xavier Ribas, Untitled (Mud #27), 2006, C-print, 50 x 60 cm. Ed. 6. Courtesy: ProjecteSD gallery.

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Elmgreen and Dragset: End Station

Elmgreen and Dragset programmaticallyproduce artwork which deals with the fluidityand ambiguity of the prescribed borderlines,and constantly attempts to see how muchthe distinction between reality and artificialspace can be blurred without having the endresult come across as a blatant artifact.Almost like Duchamp did when he presentedhis famous “fountain”, the two artists, cur-rently based in Berlin (even MichaelElmgreen is from Denmark, and IngarDragset from Norway) have been trying todiscover and quantify what delimitates art asan institution from the surroundings, andalso to create possible links, some of themhighly unusual, between artwork and itsenvironment. More recently, they haveattempted to undermine probably the holiestcow of the artworld, which has been under-going incredible changes lately, with the evo-lution of new media and its emergence in themuseum and gallery world, namely the whitecube. Their projects often involve actualchange, physical alterations of architecturaldesigns which provide alternatives to thiswhite cube, and through it, a suggestion thatthe established layered social structures canalso be submitted to change. One way oranother, their installations always seem toinvolve the deconstruction of meaning in aspace with a solid, pre-determined destina-tion, which is attacked frontally, changed inits basics and reconstructed so that thepieces of the puzzle create a strikingly differ-ent meaning.

Their installation "End Station", presented atthe Bohen Foundation, located at 13thStreet, New York City, in 2005, seems tomimic reality completely by transforming thelower level of the foundation building into an

abandoned subway station. After descend-ing the metal staircase, as one does whendescending in the catacombs or the sewersof Paris, viewers find themselves standingon a platform of a typical New York City sub-way station. Only this is a station where thewait might take forever, since there is reallyno train coming. Even though the benchesand the signage look strangely familiar, andso do the metal grids, it is somehow blatant-ly clear that time has been programmaticallystopped here, in some sort of bubble. It is theformer New York, re-created within the newNew York, and its familiarity feels strange,exactly because the general picture looks somimetic, but upon a closer exam, details donot really seem to fit in the general puzzle.

With “End Station”, Elmgreen and Dragset infact created a subway line that never exist-ed, a fictitious 13th Street stop. Their instal-lation can be experienced at various levels.One is the personal response to the subjec-tive flow of memory, and how we are some-how influenced by what we read and themediated images we see all the time, morethan by what reality is in fact. Even the trashthrown on the tracks hints to an era, and,moreover, to what we think this fictitious NewYork could have been. Upon looking closely,one may discover the first New York Timesarticle on AIDS, a Museum of Modern Artpaper bag from the 1987 Picasso exhibition,injection needles, a Converse sneaker, con-doms, cigarette butts, soda cans and even aKentucky Fried Chicken bucket. It is a knownfact that after time has passed, it becomesvery difficult even for eye witnesses to fullyrelate what they witnessed, and thus thepast becomes a blank board on which every-one’s memory is inscribed, to re-create a

reality which might have never existed in thatspecific form. The reconstruction of the sub-way station looks indeed like a station, but itis in fact a projection of the collective memo-ry.

Another possible interpretation is the artists’reaction to the gentrification of neighbor-hoods, something which cannot escapeattention in New York City. The installationwas site-specific and it was installed at theBohen Foundation; beyond the fundamentalirony of reproducing one of the must publicspaces, the subway, used by millions of peo-ple every day, in a very private and exclusivespace, one must notice the location of theFoundation, in the former Meatpacking dis-trict. The fluidity of New York City neighbor-hoods is something which has becomeevery day reality for everyone who liveshere, and this district is one of the recentlyconverted into designer boutique and expen-sive restaurants area. Even though the floorgratings, the interior and everything else rep-resent an evocation of the city above andbelow, and of its recent history, they in thesame time create a surreal environment,with roles that can be assigned dependingon each visitor’s openness to the role play-ing. It is indeed a subway stop of the eternalwait, a transitional space, in spite of itsamazingly functional structure, and for any-one that uses the metro transit in the city,amazing exactly because it is so deserted.Elmgreen and Dragset’s installation is meantto not only evoke an area, but, more likely, torecreate it from a very different perspective,at a determined moment in time, trying torecuperate that moment by means ofpainstakingly researched details.

The artists never visited New York in theperiod they attempted to re-create, and theresearch involved was mostly by talking tolocals familiar with the subway system,which proves the point that it is more aboutrememberance than anything else. Since thepurpose was not to rebuild an actual subway

stop, but more likely something else, theydid not request any specific documentationfrom the MTA, because their own imageabout the subway stop was built more basedon memory than on objective sources.Moreover, one must take into account thatNew York is fundamentally the city of media,where one might end up as an involuntaryextra, and some areas of the city are pre-sented over and over visually, to such anextent that when one actually goes there, thevisit feels surreal and the mediated imagehas a more realistic feel. But then again,“End Station” is more about memory, thanabout the technical aspects. The question iswhether there is in fact any narrative here,something that one might expect from sucha large scale, site-specific installation. Therecould be one, but then it might be strictlyindividual, as each of us descending toreach the end station performs a clearlyassigned part, that of a passenger waitingfor a train which never comes. One canagree to play the part, and wait for the train,or can be in denial, and refuse to beimmersed in this environment.

By building a subway stop that never exist-ed, at 13th Street, the two artists wanted toaddress issues of history, personal and col-lective memory through the process of obvi-ous falsification, which is, in their own words,preferable to the facile recreation of anobject of the past. Their aim, stated in inter-views , is mainly to investigate the powerstructures, in other words the structures thathave been invested with a certain specificfunction from the moment they were built,and to show that the power invested in themis ultimately a subjective decision. Thus,their destination can change by a simpleprocess of attribution and their fragilitybecomes obvious. Extrapolating, one mightsay that the purpose goes beyond the re-creation of the architectural aspect and theunderlying power play, in order to prove thestrength of the individual in any historicalcontext.

by Dana Altman

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Michael Elmgreen & Ingar Dragset, End Station, 2005, mixed media, 20,5x9,75 m.Installation view at The Bohen Foundation.Coutesy: The Bohen Foundation, New York. Photo: Danny Bright.

Michael Elmgreen & Ingar Dragset, End Station, 2005, mixed media, 20,5x9,75 m.Installation view at The Bohen Foundation.

Coutesy: The Bohen Foundation, New York. Photo: Danny Bright.

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Michael Elmgreen & Ingar Dragset, End Station, 2005, mixed media, 20,5x9,75 m.Installation view at The Bohen Foundation.Coutesy: The Bohen Foundation, New York. Photo: Danny Bright.

Michael Elmgreen & Ingar Dragset, End Station, 2005, mixed media, 20,5x9,75 m.Installation view at The Bohen Foundation.

Coutesy: The Bohen Foundation, New York. Photo: Danny Bright.

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Michael Elmgreen & Ingar Dragset, End Station, 2005, mixed media, 20,5x9,75 m.Installation view at The Bohen Foundation.Coutesy: The Bohen Foundation, New York. Photo: Danny Bright.

Michael Elmgreen & Ingar Dragset, End Station, 2005, mixed media, 20,5x9,75 m.Installation view at The Bohen Foundation.

Coutesy: The Bohen Foundation, New York. Photo: Danny Bright.

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The Right Socialism

by Dan Perjovschi

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The right Socialism, 2007, 9 drawings, each drawing 14.5 cm x 19.5 cm, marker on paper. Artist project for Pavilion..

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Notes on the Disappeared:Towards a Visual Language of Resistance

by Chitra Ganesh + Mariam Ghani

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Monumental and Personal Modernism

by Marjetica Potrc

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Monumental and Personal Modernism, 2003, 9 drawings, each drawing 21.0 cm x29.7 cm, marker on paper. Collection of the Generali Foundation, Vienna, Austria.

Courtesy: Marjetica Potrc.

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La Inmovilidad

by Vincent Delbrouck

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Vincent Delbrouck, La Inmovilidad, Cuba, 2004, photographs, polaroids, paintings, texts.

Coutesy: the artistwww.vincentdelbrouck.be

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The main question related to RASSIM® is ofcourse: is he an artwork or is he for real? Thequestion however could be rephrased to, forinstance, have anybody ever made love to anartwork? Jeff Koons and Ciocollina are excludedbecause that’s two PaRtworks making love toeach other “ones upon a time”… If he is for real then what’s so “artsy” about himoutside of the nice muscle disposition; thegray/blue eyes he was born with and with whichhe looks out at the world with the most innocentintonation possible; and then again somethingelse he was born with, the saturated black hairthat sometimes looks a bit grease as if he hasnot washed it for a few days (remember JohnTravolta in “Grease”?). All of these and a lotmore (the almost animalistic, but not threaten-ing, self-confidence he exudes) tend to triggerthe unmistakably erotic attention of girls,women, art critics and curators of the femalepersuasion who can’t wait to get their hands allover him, or actually all over his artistic oeuvre,if you know what I mean… Luckily this “object ofdesire”, nicely dressed up as an artistic oeuvre(it is well known that some censors actuallyenjoy watching porno movies under the conven-ient guise that they take care of the public’smorals; or that the best place to see porno stuffwithout appearing to be lascivious is artshows…), comes not only in flesh but in variousother forms and shapes such as video tapes,remnants of his training and protein taking ses-sions, posters, etc. Otherwise the poor thing willnot have time for anything else but “art exhibi-tions” and/or demonstrations of his artwork as awhole or in parts, so to say, especially if wechoose to think of all his life as an artwork. Hehimself certainly does so… But should we?So, if RASSIM® is an artwork, then how the helldo you go about restoring him/it for instance?What happens if some time in the near, or dis-tant, future the artwork deteriorates as it didslightly (see the “before”, the “during” and the“after-the-during” reproductions) after his spon-

sor FRAC Languedoc-Roussillon in Montpellier(France) and its director Ami Barak ended theirsupport for “Corrections” around the beginningof 1998 and it was getting more and more obvi-ous that there will be no show of the project inMontpellier (as it was initially projected)? Do weclone him? Or how precisely do we collect thissingle artwork if “we” are a director of a majormuseum? I would say that in principle it shouldbe very hard to collect any artwork that is actu-ally a performance, body art, etc. To collect it asit is with all its duration in time and “being there”in space, and then disappearing in both timeand space. Even marrying RASSIM® is notsuch a good idea because a marriage contractmay cover possession of artworks but it hasbeen well known for ages in civilized societies(and ours is one, yes?) that such contracts usu-ally imply that neither the husband is a propertyof the wife nor vice versa… Thus, we are backto point zero in the case of RASSIM® - I guesshe himself could never be quite sure what exact-ly is it that women like about him: the man/per-sonality or the artwork/object of desire, and/orboth? This question doesn’t seem to be bother-ing him just yet but let’s wait and see how it goesafter 10-15 years… Because it’s one thing to beRASSIM® and 25 years old, and quite differentthing to be RASSIM® and 45 years old… Assomebody once said: “Youth is the only humandisease that gets cured with age…” On the morepractical side of the problem, in the spring of1998 another Sofia artist and a friend, LuchezarBoyadjiev, hoping for the “kill of the century” andwaiting for the ending of the active part of theRASSIM® project of body building corrections,offered to the artist RASSIM® to exchange art-works, whichever happened to be their newestones at the very end of June 1998… LB clever-ly calculated that at that times the newest RAS-SIM® art product would be the “corrected”RASSIM® himself! In exchange he would haveoffered a masterpiece of a drawing. To his cred-it, RASSIM® rose to the occasion and replayed

Rassim: Corrections“Well, but then you will have to take good careof me for the rest of my life”!I am mentioning this only because I want tomake it clear that RASSIM® is fully aware of allthese implications although maybe not in adeeply theoretical way. More like intuitivelywhich is traditionally considered not to be sucha bad thing for any artist. However, the strengthand the glory of RASSIM® ‘s most importantand famous project “Corrections” would nothave been the same had it not been initially forthe art scene of Sofia and its higher stage ofmaturity around 1995, the time when RASSIM®announced the project for the first time. Thescene carried out the weight of the project byproviding for its initial context and appreciation.Of course, saying “the scene” also implies thedevelopment of advertisement in Bulgarian soci-ety after 1989, the TV and other publicly visiblecommercials, the making of stars and the “highsociety” attitudes being much advertised, etc.The whole new phenomena of mass culture inthe public space was contributing heavily to thegrowth of some new attitudes towards art pro-duction that were developed around 1995 (andlater too) by the younger generation of contem-porary Bulgarian artists. For instance, one of thefirst projects of RASSIM® that was ”noticed” bythe scene was a simple white T-shirts editionthat had his (quite modest at the time) artist’sCV stenciled on the front side. Later on RAS-SIM® started claiming so very persistently, inprivate and in public, that he is indeed “a star”that after awhile we all, professionals as well asthe general public of newspaper articles, TVtalk-shows, TV late night sex shows, etc., start-ed believing that indeed, he is a star, althoughno one was quite sure why. It was too late…RASSIM® had already done his home(art)workand had come up with a straightforward calcula-tion of stardom in the form of a chart. He visual-ized the simple fact that he is actually much,much taller than some major show businessstars such as Tom Cruise, Sylvester Stallone,Arnold Schwarzenegger… not even mentioningMick Jagger and poor, short and old JackNicholson… Presumably, taller means biggerand maybe better… at least…Having accomplished this, RASSIM® went on tosome video works that are slightly didactic buthave no less self-promotional impact. That’s the

nearly 2 hours long tape “Drug” where you seeRASSIM® sniffing glue from a plastic bag (muchin the way poor homeless Gypsy kids weredoing it on street corners, in parks, train stationsand practically all over the city at the same time)with such great devotion as if that’s what he hasalways dreamed of doing all his life. That wasthe time of the “initial” period of drugs distribu-tion … Illegal, dangerous, harmful, lethal buthard to beat considering the state the countrywas in. Of course, now drug taking in Bulgariahas gone to a higher level while anti-drug lawsare enforced much more systematically.However, at the time this tape had urgency notequaled by other artworks. When in 1995 it wasexhibited in Ata-ray Gallery (Sofia) groups ofschool kids were brought in to see “from aside”what they might look like if… Didactics is notRASSIM® ‘s strongest point but still, he wasthere, young, beautiful and NOT drugged at allso the kids could make up their minds and thecomparison by themselves. Teachers scored apoint in their fight against the danger of drugabuse by kids! Another tape of similar nature is the 9-min long“Smoke” which is just that, RASSIM® smokingone cigarette in front of the camera for 9 min-utes. So what, you might ask? Again this workhas to do with promotion, glorification, beautifi-cation, star making, etc. for its own sake and abit of didactics thrown in for flavor. Without anyreason or excuses being given. In a more recentproject (1998-2000) titled “23” RASSIM®opened a café bar in his native city of Pleven.He had instructed his employees to give the fol-lowing answer whenever some customer wouldask “Why is the bar named “23”?”. The correctanswer should have been: “Because our ownerlives in Sofia!” Illogical? So, what? Mystique isanother name for publicity and advertisement…The bar was doing well for quite some time butthen the author decided that he is either a barowner or an artist. He went for being an artist.True, he had indeed hoped to earn a living andeven make some real none-art/art money fromthe project but it was not to be. However, thisart/business contamination as an art productiontool and procedure is so very typical for RAS-SIM® ‘s personality and nature… He has a strange attitude to art. He is definitelynot the Van Gogh type of the suffering artist. If

by Iara Boubnova & Luchezar Boyadjiev

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he ever put anything close to his ear that’s themobile phone… (See the 1998 digital poster“Self-portrait with GSM”). And that’s onlybecause he wanted to be somebody else, or atleast to appear to be somebody else – not justbeautiful and muscular but rich, powerful andeven more desirable because of that (moneyand power are the strongest aphrodisiacs,yes?). Around 1997-98 mobile phones inBulgaria were still so expensive to have and usethat primarily local mafia bosses, their servantsand some state employees/politicians couldafford them. (For several months around 1996-97, long before he could afford a real one, RAS-SIM® was “using” one, very authentic looking,toy mobile phone which served him well in termsof promotion if not really in terms of communica-tion and connectivity). For 7-8 years in the 1990-ies mobile phones were one the most visiblestatus symbols of wealth and uncontrolled, crim-inal, endless power in the country = a socialmarker of mafia in all senses of the word.Anyway, the point is that for RASSIM® art is nota heroic deed but a profession like any other.Even better if compared to owning and runninga café bar in the middle of nowhere. Because asa contemporary artist you at least get to travelsignificantly more and get to be in themedia/public eye a lot. That’s a vision for a quitenormal professional life which RASSIM® hon-estly expects to function to his personal benefitand creature comforts – to make him a careerand secure advancement to unquestionablesuccess; to bring him money on a regular basisand lead him to a comfortably high living stan-dard (if not filthy rich then at least modestlywealthy); to allow him to have enough free timeafter the “9 to 5” routine of the working dayduties; to provide regular paid-leave-of-absences and/or 4 weeks vacation time everyyear, summer or winter, regardless… It is as ifhe wants to strike a labor contract with himselfand be his own employer and employee at thesame time with the international art world func-tioning as a guarantee for the validity of the con-tract, as a sort of retirement policy provider, asocial security agent and so on… RASSIM®‘sself-consciousness is carried out to the level ofa tool to produce artworks and all sorts of publicstatements. It could be strikingly systematic andis always based on his perfect intuition for

what’s new and/or fashionable in clothing andlife, art and cars, business and wristwatches…But this came later.... When “Corrections” camealong and the process of its realization started in1997, everybody already knew RASSIM®… So,for him it was just a matter to get it going. Excepthe could not afford to have all the right proteinsand vitamins, to pay for the gym and his body-building sessions… Luckily Ami Barak fromFRAC Montpellier came to Sofia in the autumnof 1995, met RASSIM®, liked the project anddecided to sponsor it on behalf of his institution.He provided the funding for training and the pro-teins plus vitamins for the nutrition diet which isappropriate in such cases. There was supposedto be a show in France after the completion ofthe project. The rest is history and it is quiteinteresting to follow.“Corrections” is based on a simple logic – toredesign the not-so-impressive at the time, skin-ny, hairy and a bit too tall, RASSIM® body into abody-builder’s machine that would look andfunction even better then some real movie starsfrom the Hollywood context. But the main pur-pose was not only to improve the singular bodyof one individual a.k.a. RASSIM® rather to buildup a metaphor for the whole situation of trans-formation, reconstruction, re-designing of anentire society and a way of life. The logic is thatif I, RASSIM®, can do it, then conversely thereis no reason why the whole of Bulgaria, orEastern Europe for that matter, should not beable to do it. There are all these nice aspects ofthe project: the Western money he got as spon-sorship (FRAC, Ami Barak, etc.); the immediateattention of the international art world as soonas the “after” stage started being visible in hismuscles; the girls; the funny way he would try toget out of a curators’ invitations to shows by say-ing that “Look, I am so involved in this projectthat there is nothing at all in my head right now!All I can think of is training in the gym and eat-ing the proper diet, of my girlfriend now and thenand that’s it!”. That’s actually why he startedshowing all these empty protein buckets he hadalready used installed in small scale “installa-tions” on regular tables.Yet, it is truly amazing how much attention andhow many career benefits RASSIM® has beenable to get out of this one single project! I thinknothing like this has ever happened, at least not

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in recent art memory… It seems like the project,long time after the completion of its active stage,is still able to gather additional meaningsdepending on the development of the surround-ing context. It is also one of the few art projectsout of Eastern Europe that has triggered somany different contexts none of them limited tojust the country of its origin. For instance, most“real” artists have in their studios easels to sup-port the canvas they are working on. If RAS-SIM® would have to put in his studio (actually,he got one just recently…) some instrument ofhis “craft” to help assist him in the creation oftrue and beautiful artworks, he would have tohave en exercising machine brought in so thathe can work on his artwork (his own body) allthe time in order to make it and keep it in perfectshape… Thus, the artist’s studio and the gym orthe fitness club become identical… Is this Art orLife or both?However, Western money for the re-designingof an Eastern artist is obviously one of the mostimportant and attention catching aspects. RAS-SIM® not only became more beautiful, was ableto pick up a lot more girls, and has a career ontop of that, but it was all because of the Westernmoney he got in order to realize his project. In alarger political/economical context we can saythat he, unlike most of the Eastern Europeancountries after 1989, got money from the Westand delivered the result! He did what he prom-ised to do with the money he was given for thepurpose. In the meantime he used it to alsoimplant his “body” as artwork within the Westernart context something all former Socialist coun-tries have yet to accomplish with EU member-ship for instance… However, it was the Westthat for some reason did not live up to its part ofthe bargain… RASSIM® never actually got thatshow Ami promised him. Not only that. He hadto stop the active “textual” (as opposed to thecurrent passive and “contextual” stage) realiza-tion of the project actually a long time after themoney ran out. He kept on going on and reallyworked hard to fulfill all parts of the sponsorship“deal”. Before stopping he waited long enoughfor the “West” to fulfill its promise to the end…He was going on in the hope to do that show, thecatalogue documenting it all, etc. But then with-out money and the proper nutrition supple-ments, proteins and so on, he started develop-

ing allergies, fat tissues not supposed to bethere, etc. So he stopped, the project wasdeclared finished as active training, the tapesand posters went to shows, and so did the manybeautiful, black and yellow empty buckets he gotthe proteins in… Retrospectively thinking, it might appear thatwith “Corrections” RASSIM® was committing anact of collaborationism with both the West andmoney. Or that his over zealous approach tobodybuilding and success somehow borders onnaiveté and wishful thinking. However, it is clearnow that at the end RASSIM® became the firstEastern European artist to be actually betrayedby the West after the West itself had invested somuch in his “correction” process… This is a factwhich is a very interesting ground for furtherthought if taken to the level of metaphor. His ini-tial motivation included the re-construction andre-designing of his own body to fit into a Westimposed physical role model and as a stand-infor Eastern Europe. Then he succeeded only tobe betrayed. Metaphorically speaking, it followsthat even if it succeeds in the Western spon-sored process of re-construction and transfor-mation, it is still very possible that EasternEurope will also be betrayed at the end by theWest that had invested so much in its “correc-tion”, re-construction and so on… So, EasternEuropeans – be aware and be warned!It seems like that’s the end of the story. But thecontext(s) of this project, as well as of the entirelife-long RASSIM® project somehow keep ongrowing while the ex-bodybuilder’s body ofRASSIM® keeps on getting slimmer and slim-mer. Now RASSIM® is almost back to his old“self” except it is a much better looking, harmo-nious and physically fit RASSIM® then everbefore. That’s the “after-the-after” stage of the“corrections” and RASSIM® looks now as in the“before” stage except his body is truly morebeautiful then ever. However, the bodybuilder’sappearance of threat and unlimited strength isgone. Maybe subconsciously the Western spon-sor wanted just that? Beauty, not Strength… Weshall see. RASSIM® is an ongoing project justbecause RASSIM® is an ongoing man. Maybenext time you go to the gym you will not see himthere. Maybe next time you go to his studio youwill see him behind his easel, because he hasalso got an easel…

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Rassim, Corrections, 1996- 1998, two posters and five videoprojections.Courtesy: the artist.

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Throughout the 1920s the Kindred indulgedin a variety of folk revivalist activities, frommumming plays to archery, at the ceremo-nial occasions, such as Gleemote andAlthing, which marked the different times ofyear; but all this was abandoned whenHargrave announced the ‘great work’ thathe had been preparing them for, influencedby the ideas of Major C.H. Douglas, whoadvocated a method of economic reformcalled ‘Social Credit’. This became theircentral tenet and they abandoned campingand took to the cities, taking part in thehunger marches and agitating for changewearing the new ‘Green Shirt’ uniform.Clashes with Oswold Moseley’s Fascistmovement (the Black Shirts) followed andthe more notable incidents during thisphase of the movement included the burn-ing of an effigy of the governor of the Bankof England outside the Royal exchange, aswell as the actions of the appropriatelynamed Ralph Green; on 29 Feb 1940Green fired an arrow through the window ofnumber 10 Downing Street with the words‘Social Credit is Coming’ written on theshaft. When an act of parliament waspassed banning political groups from wear-ing uniform in public places, the movementran into trouble and numbers dwindled dur-ing the Second World War. Hargrave finallywound the organisation up in 1951 andretreated into mysticism, by becoming afaith healer. The legacy of this movement isas hard to pin down as their politics:Hargrave’s style of charismatic leadershipwas certainly dangerous and during the1930s some of the Kibbo Kift practiceswere dangerously close to those of theNazi youth movements in Germany. Butgenerously Hargrave can be viewed asvisionary whose Kibbo Kift contained theseeds of movements for clothes reform andthe democratisation of the arts as well asthe peace and green movements.

The Spirit of Robin Hood

(from the Kibbo Kift song book)

The spirit of Robin Hood came downAll clothed in Lincoln greenAnd though he went o’er hill and townBy no man was he seen.Through fell and dale,Through fog and smoke,No answering call to his awoke,For the good in man was turned to badAnd the Spirit of Robin Hood was Sad.

Where forest and heath erstwhile hadstoodHe saw but grime and smoke;Weird clothes replaced good cloth andhoodAnd then the spirit spoke:“Where are the men in all these townsWho follow the luring call of downs?”But a silence seemed to greet his callAnd the spirit was sad for each and all.

Then swiftly an arrow passed o’er headAnd cleared the smoke in twain.“The Archers of my time” he said“are thriving here again”. With jerkin green and staff in handThey forced their way across the landAnd to make the tally sticks agreeThey worked ‘neath the greenwood tree.

The spirit of Robin laughed aloudTo see such men on earth.He knew these few would lead the crowdTo clearness and rebirth.He saw a time, a coming dayWhere men should have time for work andplay:So up he took their Archers songAnd hiked with the Kibbo Kift along.

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In August 1920 The Kindred of the KibboKift was established by a renegade groupof boy scouts led by the charismatic JohnHargrave. This now largely forgotten Britishsocial movement was short lived, ladenwith mysticism and bordered on being areligious cult for whom camping was a spir-itual activity, but they defy categorisationhaving evolved in the 1930s into a uni-formed paramilitary group (Green ShirtMovement for Social Credit) and later apolitical party (the Social Credit Party ofGreat Britain). At their inception, the KibboKift were intended as a left wing alternativeto Baden Powell’s conservative BoyScouts, for a generation of British peopledisillusioned by World War One and themachine age. The 26 year old JohnHargrave, known as White Fox, joinedforces with the Co-operative movement andveterans of the campaign for women’s suf-frage (including Emmeline PethickLawrence), becoming ‘Head Man’ of thisnew society, which unusually admittedwomen as well as men. Early on they tookan interest in the traditional pursuits of theBritish left wing such as naturism, vegetari-anism and theosophy, however his leader-ship style was autocratic and in 1924 theco-operators left to establish the WoodcraftFolk along more democratic lines (and theyare still going today). Hargrave’s Kibbo Kiftwas intended as a vanguard that wouldshow people the way out of the spiritualand physical inertia that resulted from mod-ern urban living. They believed in open-aireducation for children, training in woodcraftas a means of gaining a healthy body and

mind, disarmament of all nations as well asa number of obscure economic policies thatwould result in world peace.

Along with most of the Kindred Hargravehad a day job, working as a commercialillustrator and artist during the week andheading off for the countryside each week-end clad in peculiar costume: Saxon styleJerkin, Green Hood and a series of futuristinspired colourful capes and smocks forceremonial use. These surcoats or silk-embroidered robes were worn by the vari-ous office-holders such as the Tallykeeper,Campswarden, Ritesmaster and Gleeman,as well as Head Man. Each member tookon a Native American Indian styleWoodcraft name and yet stylistically theirregalia hovers between the distopian futureof the British science fiction film ‘Things toCome’ (1936), Prince Valiant comics andRuskin or William Morris’s arts and craftvisions of a medieval utopia. The black andwhite photos that record these occasionsshow women and men (with the clippedmoustaches and military style hair cuts ofthe 1920s) wearing outlandish geometricfelt smocks, next to decorated tipis andclutching hand carved staffs. AppropriatelyHargrave had spent some of the formativeyears of his childhood in England’s LakeDistrict - his Quaker father was a moder-ately successful landscape painter - whichis perhaps where he absorbed some ofRuskin’s peculiarly English Christian social-ism, laden with nostalgia for a pre-industrialage.

Machine Shall be the Slave of Man but Man Shall not Slave for Machine

by Olivia Plender

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A Gathering Merrie Campers, Performance at Coniston Water Festival, UK, 2005.A project with Grizedale Arts.

Courtesy: the artist.

Merrie Campers, Pencil on Paper, 2005.Courtesy: the artist.

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A Gathering Merrie Campers, Performance at Coniston Water Festival, UK, 2005.A project with Grizedale Arts.

Courtesy: the artist.

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¡Protesta!

by Taller Popular de Serigrafia

May 1st. Yesterday, 8 hour working day, Today, 6 hour working day / Recoveredfactories on its feet

TPS was born by initiative of a visual artist group as an activity during one of thepublic convocations, which arose in Buenos Aires after the public rebellion ofDecember 2001. In this battle sceneries, we brought the workshop on the streetand printed garments, which the people wore afterwards. These pictures have been designed to be printed at May 1st 2004 during theactivities of Labour-day.

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Build a bread oven in a public square.

TPS worked and demonstrated together with the labour movement and initiated linksfor cooperation, participation and production.These pictures have been designed in October 2004 for the first bulletin and open-ing act of the Movement for a legal six-hours-working-day and a general increase ofincome.

Translated from Spanish by Anna-Maria Post.

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Time is the space where man develops / National Movement for theLegal 6 hour Working Day and Salary Increase.

The condition to liberate man from his working time and increase his free time,recovering it for the complete development of his personality, can only be found inthe overcoming of the commercial forms and the enslavement which are found in thebase of this production system.

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Constantinople, traveled to Paris as a“gift” from Napoleon, and returned eventu-ally to Venice. Except that he could onlybring wooden copies of the original hors-es, and he displayed them at PlatformGaranti, tied with strings to the columns ofthe gallery. Thus, from a symbol of powermanifested lastingly in the public space,the rider less horses became a fragilememory, almost a souvenir, of a past thatis constantly reshaped and reinvented3.

“Mattresses for Imaginary Destinations”,the work which Hüseyin Alptekin exhibitedwithin the Periferic 6 Biennale (2003) wasan evocation of a limitless number ofpotential travels, although one suspectedthat the colorful blankets which coveredthe mattresses offered to the public to siton were rather suggesting destinationswhich were not that unfamiliar to the localpublic in Iasi, Romania. Nevertheless,however exotic one’s idea of travel was,the mattresses were also used as a pre-text for social encounter.

Geography itself is often a pretext for theartist. Or only a paradox. In his series of photographs with hotelsigns, mostly taken in poor neighbor-hoods in Istanbul, names of remote citiesaround the world, hardly main tourist des-tinations, cease to refer to real places,even if somewhere on a map they mightbe found. Instead, they represent thesecommunities’ “unlived memories”4, theirway of relating to a world which theyaccess always only in a mediated way, sothat it becomes no less fictional than thedestinations which the mattresses in Iasiinduced. The association of these namesof cities with hotels as places of transitionand also of encounter with the other, theone who is in transit, was followed byAlptekin in the semantic relationshipbetween hospitality and hostility, with the

thin edge that separates the two. His un-accommodated Albanian bunkers, built inthe first place as a way of protection infront of a latent hostility, do they not rep-resent now to the Western art institutionsboth aesthetically and politically aggres-sive objects, reminding them of that sliceof geography which they only acknowl-edge when they can control?!

Geography is one of the things HüseyinAlptekin transgresses in his works. Orwhich he just doesn’t take too seriously.Like the character from Jules Verne’sKéreban le Tétu, who inspired him to setup the Elephant Sea Travel Agency. Inshort, the story says that Kéreban, aTurkish tobacco merchant in 19th centuryIstanbul, received the visit of a Dutch guy,one of his agents. Wanting to take his vis-itor for dinner at his place, on the Asianpart of the city, in Üsküdar, and findingthat they had to pay a tax in order tocross the Bosphorus by boat, Kérebandecided to take the way all around theBlack Sea, in order to arrive at the desti-nation without paying the tax. His ratherunusual hospitality was the beginning ofan exploration through what at the timewhen Jules Verne was writing - and acentury later still almost unchanged - wasassociated with dangerous territories. Therelativity of the notion of distance, whichmade Kéreban invite his guest to embarkon this journey, determined Hüseyin toreflect on his own points of reference towhat close and distant meant: he discov-ered thus that he was feeling closer toLondon than to Sofia or Bucharest – asmany artists at the time (2000) probablyfelt. The Sea Elephant Agency was forHüseyin a way to fill these distances withsome content, a maybe ideal aspirationtowards giving this geography meaningfrom the inside, in order to rescue it (andoneself) from the place assigned to it (and

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Sao Paolo – Istanbul – Tirana –Eindhoven was the first flight itinerary ofthe 3 months old son of Hüseyin Alptekinand his partner Camilla Rocha1.Accompanying his parents on all theirdestinations, like one of their nomadicprojects, the kid had his first passportwhen he was one week old. One cannothelp oneself but wonder how the worldwill look for him when he grows up.Thinking of Ceausescu’s children of thefuture, marching dressed all in white andreleasing pigeons of peace, or proudlyhanding over the pioneer2 red tie to thecoming generations, the image of a thor-oughly constructed world comes to mymind: a perfectly organized, flawless soci-ety, in which everybody forgets oneselfand works for the accomplishment of anequally distributed brightness for thefuture. Except that in reality the bright-ness remained a characteristic reservedto the future, and the forgetfulness onlyapplied to what represented the other’sproblems – sharing the same working orliving environment (whether a factory, aschool or a block of flats) was by far notsynonymous to working or living together,as any kind of commonality was a poten-tial threat.

I met Hüseyin’s son in Tirana, we weremembers of the audience for a lecture, bythe artist Marko Kosnik, on paralleleconomies, within Zdenka Badovinac’

“Democracies” exhibition – episode 3 atthe Tirana Biennale 2005. While the lec-turer was pointing to the disadvantages ofcapitalist society, proposing a utopianalternative in the return to the simple,rural way of life, one could see in front ofthe National Gallery the bunker thatHüseyin had successfully managed toinstall there, after a first attempt had failedin 2002. The bunker, similar to the onesthat can be seen all along the serpentinesfrom the border up to Tirana, representsstill one of the strongest features ofAlbania’s landscape, embodiment ofanother alternative economy. Hüseyin’sproposal to transfer an Albanian bunker inthe courtyard of every contemporary artmuseum around the world, if realized,could maybe slightly alter the frameworkof the discussions that take place todayinside those institutions. Until now, onlyone bunker was relocated outsideAlbania, in Kassel, obviously presentedthere in a Balkan exhibition.

It seems Hüseyin Alptekin became moreskeptical about the capacity of contextual-ization of the art world abroad, and hasdecided to bring things “at home” instead.Thus he brought – for the 9th IstanbulBiennale, in 2005 – the horses of theQuadriga from the San Marco basilicafaçade in Venice, the same horses thatwere stolen in the 13th century by thecrusaders from the Hippodrome in

A Few Notes on Hüseyin Alptekin and the Children of the Future

by Raluca Voinea

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to one) by the other, the guest. In 2004,the Sea Elephant Travel Agency ceasedregular activities, “due to financial prob-lems and local difficulties”5. Since itsappearance, a lot of interregional projectshave taken place, whether stimulated byrequirements and funding from abroad, orself-initiated by local art practitioners. Theline from hospitality to hostility is howeverstill shifting, and so are the borders thatmake an Albanian bunker or a Turkish cit-izen interesting as long as they are notpermanently transplanted onto a differentsoil or given the same place as the otherguests have at the table.

It is likely that geography will look lesssettled into restrictive boundaries whenHüseyin’s child grows up. It might as wellbe that geography will “melt into air” alto-gether, that people will spend more timeon flights than on the earth, it might hap-pen that people will see this geographyas being on the edge of chaos. But I takethis metaphor in its scientific sense: thepoint where systems have enough orderto maintain an ongoing identity, while alsohaving enough chaos to allow for noveltyand learning6. The socialist system I grewup in had nothing to do with complexity orchaos. One of the ways to prevent itsreaching the edge of chaos was by keep-ing it enclosed, controlling who goes outand who comes in. Future in this systemwas entirely predictable: one had just tolook at us, Ceausescu’s marching whitepioneers, to know there was no room forchaos there.

Nor is it enough place for individual devel-opment and identity stability in a global-ized and increasingly alienated capitalistworld, so I am told, mostly by people whospend half of their time flying between dif-ferent destinations. I had my first flightwhen I was 25, when socialism seemed

to be an ideology of a buried past. Nowthis past seems to be resuscitated andthe un-accomplished virtues of that ideol-ogy re-emphasized. Balancing the time Ispend both with the guest and with thehost, on either side of the variable bor-ders, is a way for me to make sure thedegree of hospitability is always some-what prevailing over the one of hostility.And whenever this is not possible any-more, I try to get a flight.

Although I don’t believe anymore thatfuture is predictable, when looking atHüseyin Alptekin’s child, I cannot help butthinking that I am looking at the future.

Notes

1. http://www.bakutrecht.nl/report/index_full.html2. Socialist scouts.3. Reinvention which doesn’t make the present

less paradoxical – like the “Welcome to Europe”sign on the European end of the BosphorusBridge in Istanbul, turning the borders to follow(in Hungary, Austria, or Brussels) into challengesof this very notion of Europe.4. Vasif Kortun,

http://www.resmigorus.org/arsiv/1999/on-huseyin-alptekin5. “The issue of otherness has become a cliché,

but the problem still exists”, an interview withHuseyin Alptekin, in European Cultural Policies2015, ed. By Maria Lind and RaimundMinichbauer, Iaspis 2005.6. According to Chris Langton, who sees the

edge of chaos as the “place” where complexsystems emerge and maintain, between frozenconstancy and chaotic turbulence.

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Hüseyin Alptekin, “Turk, Truque, Truck” Istanbul-Eindhoven, Van Abbe museum,Eindhoven, 2005-2006. Courtesy Istanbul Biennale.

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Hüseyin Alptekin, footage from “Incident-Bombay,” Juhu Tara Beach, 2006.Courtesy Istanbul Biennale.

Hüseyin Alptekin, footage from “Incident-Rio de Janeiro”, Ipanema Beach, 2006.Courtesy Istanbul Biennale.

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Sartre kommt nach Stammheim

by Naeem Mohaiemen

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Sartre kommt zu Stammheimcollage+pen on paper, 2007

Text sketches are from 1976 SPD election poster and Sartre’sletter after Stammheim. The visit to Baader was at request ofMeinhof, following Holger Meins’ starvation death. I came as aman of the Left in sympathy with any Left-wing group in dan-ger. But the meeting was a disaster. Within three years, all fourStammheim high-security prisoners - Ensslin, Raspe, Baaderand Meinhof - had committed suicide. Sartre’s Stuttgart chauf-feur Hans Joachim Klein joined Carlos the Jackal to hijack theOPEC ministers meeting. Later he denounced slaughter poli-tics (shotthyo Selucas!). To Baader, Sartre is the old left. Ithought I was dealing with a friend, but they sent me a judge,not someone who knows that fucking is like shooting. Sartre’sforeword to Fanon vs. fantasies of bludgeoning a workingclass into solidarity. Generational zeitgeist in twilight of roman-tic violence. | shobak.org |

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The Neue Slowenische Kunst (NewSlovenian Art) was founded in 1984 as a mul-tidisciplinary artistic organization by the musicgroup Laibach, the Scipion Nasice SistersTheatre and the Irwin Group. Under this col-lective umbrella and through various media,each part of the NSK aimed to render visiblethe traumatic relationship between the lan-guage of historical avant-gardes and somemanipulation strategies developed by totali-tarian systems over the course of the twenti-eth century. While they dissected cultural andpolitical remains from the past, NSK’s mem-bers analyzed the failure of artistic utopias,which were re-appropriated by ideologicalmachines, highlighting the constant interac-tion of aesthetics and politics. In the Yugoslavian socio-political context ofthe 1980s, still heavily influenced by Tito’ssocialism, such an attitude represented anheretical point of view, one that didn’t engagein an “orthodox” resistance to communist sys-tems – i.e. employing a head-on antagonisticdiscourse – but rather in a strategy of “over-identification” (Zizek), performing a mimeticfusion with the object it criticized.At the beginning of the 1990s, with theadvent of the so-called post-socialist condi-tion, Irwin and the NSK came to grips with thepermeability of borders and the ineluctableprocess of dissolution of Communism withinthe new global world structure. Irwin set up aseries of projects characterized by their “rela-tional” nature, testifying an aspiration forexchange, the will to share some reflectionson artists’ creative conditions in former com-munist territories and abroad. Such intentionsled partly to the idea of an NSK State inTime, which Irwin and Eda Cufer defined as“an abstract organism, a suprematist body,installed in a real social and political space asa sculpture comprising the concrete body

warmth, spirit and work of its members” in astatement from 1993. The first NSK Embassy was installed in 1992in a private apartment in Moscow. For theoccasion, in addition to a series of encoun-ters between cultural and intellectual protago-nists from Russia and Slovenia, Irwin pre-sented his spectacular performance BlackSquare on Red Square, superimposingMalevic’s suprematist figure upon one of thestrongest symbols of Russian history, the RedSquare, thus uniting two ideological systems.Deprived of any geographically stable exis-tence and conceived as a product of themind, NSK State becomes temporarily visiblethanks to its ephemeral Embassies andConsulates. Following Moscow’s first mani-festation of the NSK State, other embassiesand consulates were installed in Florence,Gent and Berlin (1993), Umag (1994),Sarajevo (1995) and most recently Dublin,Thessaloniki, Seattle (2004) and Reykjavik(2007). Paradoxically, passports and citizen-ship certificates delivered for these occasionsare the only proof and remaining traces ofthis extra-national elusive body’s existence.The decade following the end of the ColdWar was marked by investigation into thenew geopolitical and cultural spaces, as wellas their management. While former commu-nist Europe split with demands for therestoration of national identities and culturalspecificities, the consequences are those of ade-universalization of politics after the loss ofone of the last political utopias of the twenti-eth century. Following this idea, Irwin’s latestactivities communicate the urgency of con-ceiving new shifting territories of art, buildinga context for its practice. A project like NSKState raises the idea that culture and culturalidentity have became, now more that ever,currency for new forms of political struggle.

Irwin: NSK State

by Juliane Debeusscher

IRWIN, in collaboration with Kosovo Army, Exit, 8. 11., 2002, Iris print, 140 x 100cm. Photo: Igor Andjelic. Courtesy: the artist.

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IRWIN, in collaboration with Italian Army, NSK Garda Rome, Gallery of Modern and Contemporary Art, 24. 04., 2001, Iris print, 140 x 100 cm. Photo: Igor Andjelic. Courtesy: the artist.

IRWIN, NSK Consulate Umag, cibachrome, 150 x 130 cm, 1994. Photo: FranciVirant. Courtesy: the artist.

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IRWIN, NSK, NSK State Berlin, Volksbühne Berlin, 1993.Invited by the Volksbuehne theater in East Berlin, NSK organized a major show onthe premises of the house and on its roof. It consisted of two Laibach concerts, anexhibition of Irwin & guests, a New Collectivism Studio installation, an academy bythe Noordung Cosmokinetic Cabinet, and lectures delivered by Slavoj Zizek, and bymembers of the Department of Pure and Applied Philosophy and Irwin. The activitiestook three days, from 8th to 11th October 1993, during which time the Volksbuehnebuilding was declared territory of the NSK State, while entry was only permitted topassport holders with valid visas. A consulate office was open non-stop issuing infor-mation and documents of potential NSK citizens. Courtesy: the artist.

IRWIN, NSK Passport. Courtesy: the artist.

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Pioneers

by Ciprian Muresan,

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Ciprian Muresan, Pioneers, drawings A4, 2005-2006. Courtesy: the artist & Prometeo Gallery.

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(another) point of view

by Olga Kisseleva

Two video projections are confronted on the same screen. The first shows the bod-ies of African dancers in exultant movements, gradually moving into a trance. Theother presents the State’s armed forces: the worrying and repressive face of thepolice. The viewer, by standing on one side of the screen or the other influences thefootage and gives precedence to one version or the other.

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Olga Kisseleva, "(another) point of view", two-channel interactive video installation,sensitive screen, sensors, stereo sound system, 2004. Courtesy: the artist.

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KKaatthheerriinnee VVeerrddeerryyShe earned her Ph.D. from Stanford Universityand comes to The Graduate Center from theUniversity of Michigan, where she was Eric R.Wolf Collegiate Professor of Anthropology. Priorto that she spent twenty years teaching at JohnsHopkins University. She has conducted multiplefield projects in Romania, investigating suchthemes as ethnic relations, nationalism, thetransformation of socialist systems, and thechanges in agricultural property relations. She isthe author of The Vanishing Hectare; ThePolitical Lives of Dead Bodies; What WasSocialism, and What Comes Next?; NationalIdeology Under Socialism; and TransylvanianVillagers. The recipient of numerous grants,including two from the National ScienceFoundation and a Guggenheim Fellowship, she iscurrently at the Russell Sage Foundation, co-authoring a study on the collectivization of agri-culture in 1950s Romania. Professor Verdery is afellow of the American Academy of Arts andSciences, is president of the AmericanAssociation for the Advancement of SlavicStudies, serves on the executive board of theSocial Science Research Council, and is a pastmember of the American AnthropologicalAssociation's board of directors.

DDeebboorraahh CCooookkDr. Cook has a B.A and M.A. from the Universityof Ottawa and a Doctorat 3e cycle from theSorbonne. Her specializations are in phenome-nology, existentialism, critical theory, and post-structuralism. She is Associate Professor atUniversity of Windsor, Canada.

DDaavviidd WWaallsshhArts editor of the World Socialist Web Site, andthe author of many incisive and critical essayson contemporary art and culture from a Marxiststandpoint.

OOvviiddiiuu PPeecciiccaannRomanian historian, essayist, novelist, short-story writer, literary critic, poet, playwright, andjournalist. He is especially known for his politicalwritings on disputed issues such as regionalautonomy for Transylvania, and for his co-authorship of a controversial history textbookfor 11th and 12th grade high-school students.Pecican is co-editor of Caietele Tranzi?iei and acontributor to major newspapers, includingContemporanul, Cotidianul, and Ziarul Financiar.He has also written works of science fiction.He wrote 18 books and is a proffesor atUniversity of Cluj, Romania.

TTiinnccuu]]aa PPâârrvvArtist, curator and art theoretician. After VisualArts and Cultural Anthropology studies she is aPhD candidate in "Art and Arts Sciences", Paris 1University - "Pantheon Sorbonne". She was forthree years project coordinator at TranzitFoundation in Cluj, Romania. Living and workingin Paris.

MMaaggnnuuss WWeennnneerrhhaaggPhD student in sociology, doing research onglobalization and new social movements at theUniversity of Lund, Sweden.

SSaasskkiiaa SSaasssseennRalph Lewis Professor of Sociology at theUniversity of Chicago, and entennial VisitingProfessor of Political Economy in theDepartment of Sociology at the London Schoolof Economics. Her most recent publicationsinclude: Territory, Authority, Rights: FromMedieval to Global Assemblages, PrincetonUniversity Press 2006; and Denationalization:Territory, Authority and Rights, PrincetonUniversity Press 2005, based on her five yearproject on governance and accountability in aglobal economy. Her other works include: Guestsand Aliens, New York: New Press 1999; and heredited book Global Networks/Linked Cities, NewYork and London: Routledge 2002. The GlobalCity came out in a new fully updated edition in2001. Sassen's books have been translated intotwelve languages. She is co-director of theEconomy Section of the Global Chicago Project,

a Member of the National Academy of SciencesPanel on Cities, a Member of the Council ofForeign Relations, and Chair of the newly formedInformation Technology, InternationalCooperation and Global Security Committee ofthe SSRC.

PPaassccaall BBrruucckknneerrFrench writer, contributor of the "Liberation".Bruckner's novel Bitter Moon was made into afilm by Roman Polanski. His other works includeThe Temptation of Innocence: Living in the Ageof Entitlement, Lunes de fiel, Parias, and TheTears of the White Man: Compassion asContempt. He was awarded the Académie Française Prix2000 and Medici Prize 1995 for Essays.He is an active supporter of the US cause andthe invasion of Iraq, signing letters and petitionsin favour of Donald Rumsfeld, along with RomainGoupil and André Glucksmann (Le Monde, 4March 2003).

MMaarriinnaa GGrrzziinniiccPhilosopher and new media theoretician based inLjubljana, Slovenia. She works at the Institute ofPhilosophy of the Research and Scientific Centerof the Slovenian Academy of Science and Arts.She is professor at the Academy of Fine Arts inVienna, Austria. She has produced more than 30video art projects, a short film, numerous videoand media installations, Internet websites and aninteractive CD-ROM (ZKM, Karlsruhe, Germany).Her last book is “Fiction Reconstructed: EasternEurope, Post-Socialism and the Retro-Avant-Garde” (Vienna: Edition Selene in collaborationwith Springerin, Vienna, 2000).

CCoossmmiinn GGaabbrriieell MMaarriiaannAssistant professor of political science at Babes-Bolyai University, Cluj-Napoca, Romania. He isspecialized in research methods and data modeling in social sciences.He has no connection whatsoever with perform-ing arts, photography, music, journalism, newmedia culture, literature, philosophy, mathemat-ics or physics. And he is perfectly aware thatRomania is the country were the founder ofDadaism and Eugen Ionesco, the father of the

Rhinoceros, were born.

VVllaaddiimmiirr TTiissmm`nneeaannuuDr. Tismaneanu, born in Romania, is Professor inthe Department of Government and Politics andDirector of the Center for the Study of Post-Communist Societies at the University ofMaryland (College Park). In 2006, Romania’sPresident Traian Basescu appointed VladimirTismaneanu chair of the Presidential Commissionfor the Analysis of the Communist Dictatorshipin Romania. In December 2006, PresidentBasescu presented the conclusions of theCommission’s Report to a joint session of theRomanian Parliament.He was the editor of the journal East EuropeanPolitics and Societies, serves now as chair of thejournal’s editorial committee, and serves on theeditorial boards of other publications includingJournal of Democracy, Human Rights Review,Democracy at Large, and Studia Politica,(Romania). He is the author of ReinventingPolitics: Eastern Europe from Stalin to Havel,Fantasies of Salvation: Democracy, Nationalism,and Myth in Post-Communist Europe andStalinism for All Seasons: A Political History ofRomanian Communism. He is the author of over300 articles published in major American andEuropean newspapers and journals.

GGuunnaallaann NNaaddaarraajjaannArt theorist / curator from Singapore, currentlyAssociate Dean of Research and GraduateStudies, College of Arts and Architecture at thePennsylvania State University (USA). His publi-cations include a book, Ambulations (2000),numerous catalogue essays and various academ-ic articles. He has curated exhibitions in severalcountries including Ambulations (Singapore),180KG (Jogjakarta, Indonesia), NegotiatingSpaces (Auckland, New Zealand) and media_city2002 (Seoul, S.Korea). He was contributing cura-tor for Documenta XI (Kassel, Germany) andserved on the jury of several international exhibi-tions including ISEA2004 (Helsinki / Talinn) andtransmediale 05 (Berlin, Germany). He is alsocurrently Artistic Co-Director of the OgakiBiennale 2006. Gunalan is one of the Board ofDirectors of the Inter Society of Electronic Arts.

Writers/Artists

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(Stockholm-Helsinki-Talin, 2004). She is a regu-lar contributor of art magazine Springerin(Austria) and has written two programs (Mediatheory and Critical analysis: art today, accordingto Bologna convention for the Fine ArtsAcademy, where was teaching as a guest lectur-er.

JJoonnaatthhaann LL.. BBeelllleerrVisiting assistant professor of history of con-sciousness and literature, University of Californiaat Santa Cruz, is the author of “Dziga Vertov andthe Film of Money,” boundary 2 (1999).

CC`tt`lliinn AAvvrraammeessccuuDr. Avramescu is a political analist, philosopherand Professor of Political Science at Universityof Bucharest. He is contributor to several period-icals. His last book published was “

FFeelliixx VVooggeellTheoretician and curator. He is co-curator of the100 MINUTES exhibition series, assistant curatorof BUCHAREST BIENNALE 3, member of theadvisory board of PAVILION and contributor fordifferent magazines. Currently, he is living andworking in Karlsruhe and Konstanz, Germany.

XXaavviieerr RRiibbaassArtist. Studies of Social Anthropology at theUniversity of Barcelona (1990) and DocumentaryPhotography at the Newport School of Art andDesign (1993). Since 2000 he is Senior Lecturerat the University of Brighton and visitingLecturer at the Universidad Politécnica deValencia (since 2004). as artiost he exhibitedarround the world.

DDaannaa AAllttmmaannTheoretician and writer. She studied linguisticsand text theory at Exeter College at Oxford, UK,and has a doctorate in linguistics. She writescontemporary art criticism and fiction. She livesand works in New York.

MMiicchhaaeell EEllmmggrreeeenn && IInnggaarr DDrraaggsseett In 1995 the artists Michael Elmgreen & IngarDragset began their collaboration on what hassince become a wide range of installations, per-

formances and environmental works. They havebeen exhibited since then in all major art specesarround the world.

DDaann PPeerrjjoovvsscchhiiArtist and journalist living and working inBucharest. His recent solo exhibition includes"Naked Drawing" Ludwig Museum Koln 2005,vanAbbe Museum Eindhoven or "On the otherHand" Portikus Frankfurt 2006. He participateto Istanbul Biennial 2005 and Limerick Biennial2006 and to group show such as "I Still Believein Miracles" at ARC Muse d'Art de la Ville deParis 2005 or Normalization at Rooseum Malmo.He receive George Maciunas prize in 2004. He’srepresented by Gregor Podnar Gallery Lublijana.

CChhiittrraa GGaanneesshh ++ MMaarriiaamm GGhhaanniiMariam Ghani works in video, installation, newmedia (including interactive installation and netart), and tactical media (including public dialogueperformance). Her work has been exhibitednationally and internationally since 1999. Recentand upcoming projects include screenings at theLiverpool Biennial, the Danish Film Institute, thed.u.m.b.o. festival, Rooftop Films, Cinema East,the New York Video Festival, the Asia Society,the Boston Center for the Arts, Smart ProjectSpace in Amsterdam, the 13a MostraCurtacinema in Rio de Janeiro, and transmedi-ale.03 in Berlin.Chitra Ganesh's work explores how memory andits repression shape moments of personal andsocial crisis. Her work was recently included inthe group exhibition 637 Feet of Running Wall atthe Queens Museum, Queer Visualities atStonybrook University, NY, and Shaken andStirred at Bose Pacia Modern Gallery in NewYork.

MMaarrjjeettiiccaa PPoottrrccLjubljana-based artist and architect. Her workhas been featured in exhibitions throughoutEurope and the Americas, including the SaoPaulo Biennial in Brazil (1996, 2006); Skulptur.Projekte in Muenster, Germany (1997); Manifesta3 in Ljubljana, Slovenia (2000); and TheStructure of Survival at the Venice Biennial(2003); as well as in solo shows at the

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He was recently elected a Fellow of the RoyalSociety of Arts. Gunalan’s research interestsinclude art and biology, robotic arts, nanotech-nology and toys.

SSllaavvoojj ZZiizzeekkProfessor at the Institute for Sociology,Ljubljana, and at the European Graduate SchoolEGS, who uses popular culture to explain thetheory of Jacques Lacan and the theory ofJacques Lacan to explain politics and popularculture. He has lectured at universities aroundthe world. He was analysed by Jacques AlainMiller, Jacques Lacan's son in law, and is prob-ably the most successful and prolific post-Lacanian, having published over fifty booksincluding translations into a dozen languages.Aside from Lacan he was strongly influenced byMarx, Hegel and Schelling. In temperament, heresembles a revolutionist more than a theoreti-cian. He was politically active in Slovenia duringthe 80s, a candidate for the presidency of theRepublic of Slovenia in 1990; most of his worksare moral and political rather than purely theo-retical. Zizek was a visiting professor at theDepartment of Psychoanalysis, Universite Paris-VIII in 1982-3 and 1985-6, at the Centre for theStudy of Psychoanalysis and Art, SUNYBuffalo, 1991-2, at the Department ofComparative Literature, University of Minnesota,Minneapolis, 1992, at the Tulane University, NewOrleans, 1993, at the Cardozo Law School, NewYork, 1994, at the Columbia University, NewYork, 1995, at the Princeton University (1996),at the New School for Social Research, NewYork, 1997, at the University of Michigan, AnnArbor, 1998, and at the Georgetown University,Washington, 1999. In the last 20 years Zizek hasparticipated in over 350 international philosophi-cal, psychoanalytical and cultural-criticism sym-posiums in USA, France, United Kingdom,Ireland, Germany, Belgium, Netherland, Island,Austria, Australia, Switzerland, Norway,Denmark, Sweden, Finland, Spain, Brasil, Mexico,Israel, Romania, Hungary and Japan. He is thefounder and president of the Society forTheoretical Psychoanalysis, Ljubljana. Zizek'smost recent book is The Parallax View (ShortCircuits, 2006).

CChhaannttaall MMoouuffffeeA political theorist educated at the universitiesof Louvain, Paris, and Essex, Chantal Mouffe isProfessor of Political Theory at the University ofWestminster. She has taught at many universi-ties in Europe, North America and Latin America,and has held research positions at Harvard,Cornell, the University of California, the Institutefor Advanced Study in Princeton, and the CentreNational de la Recherche Scientifique in Paris.Between 1989 and 1995 she was Directrice deProgramme at the College International dePhilosophie in Paris.

MMiisskkoo SSuuvvaakkoovviiccProfessor of aesthetic and art theory at theBelgrade Faculty of music and atInterdisciplinary Studies at Belgrade Universityof art. Has published more than 15 books, includ-ing “Impossible Histories” (Cambridge MA,2003.) and “Politics of painting” (Kopar, 2004.).

AAnnaa PPeerraaiiccaaFreelance curator and theorist, graduated philos-ophy and art history, post academic researcherof art theory at the Jan Van Eyck Akademie(1999-2001, Maastricht), attended PhD coursesat University of Amsterdam (2001-2004).Awarded UNESCO-IFPC, Jan Van Eyck subsidie,twice OSI Network Scholarship, and twice BKVB(Fonds voor Beeldende Kunsten, Amsterdam).She gave papers on symposiums as What is theEnlightenment, Chapter 2 (Jan Van EyckAcademie, Maastricht, 2000), Intermedialities(IAPL-international association for philosophyand literature, ERASMUS University, Rotterdam),but also in art centres such as Alias (Palais desBeaux Arts, Brussels). She was a curator of 11Adria Art Annale (Split, 1997/8), co-curator ofRows-Curves-knots (Oreste, Biennale in Venice,1999), assistant curator at Indiscipline(Vanderlinden and Hoffman, Brussels, 2000),selector at Museum in Progress-Global Positions(Obrist, Der Standaard, 2001), selector at EastArt Map (Irwin, 2002-2006, Afterall Publ.,London/Los Angeles). She was also a selector ofnew media programme at Split Film Festival(Split, 1998) and Histories of the New ISEA --International symposium of electronic arts

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Jitrik. Since then included 15 artists. Today itsmain representatives are Verónica di Toro,Karina Granieri, Magdalena Jitrik and CarolinaKatz.They exhibited among other shows to 27thBienal de San Paolo, Kunsthalle Fridericianum,Kassel.«Taller Popular De Serigrafia (TPS)» is one ofthe most significant groups in the sphere ofsocio-political art that arose during the peak ofthe national unrest in Argentina in 2001.

RRaalluuccaa VVooiinneeaaCurator and art writer. She is the founder of theonline magazine E-cart.ro.

HHüüsseeyynn AAllpptteekkiinnBorn in 1957 in Ankara, Turkey. He lives andworks in Istanbul, Turkey. Since 1995 he has par-ticipated in international group exhibitions suchas the Biennials of Istanbul, Turkey, Sao Paulo,Brazil, and the 4th Cetinje Biennial, Montenegro.In 2002 he took part in In Search of Balkania atNeue Galerie am Landesmuseum Joanneum inGraz, Austria and in 2003 he participated inBlood & Honey ? Art in the Balkans, EsslCollection, in Vienna, Austria, and In the Gorgesof the Balkans at Kunsthalle Fridericianum inKassel, Germany.

NNaaeeeemm MMoohhaaiieemmeennArtist working in Dhaka + New York. Projectsinclude "Disappeared In America" (2006Whitney Biennial: wrong gallery), "Muslims OrHeretics: My Camera Can Lie?" (UK House ofLords), "Penn Station Kills Me" (Exit Art, NY),and "Young Man Was No Longer Terrorist"(Dictionary of War, Munich). Essays include"Fear of a Muslim Planet: Islamic Roots of Hip-Hop" (Sound Unbound, DJ Spooky ed., MITPress, 2007), "Beirut: Illusion of a SilverPorsche" (Men of Global South, Adam Jonesed., Zed Books) and "Why Mahmud Can't be aPilot" (Nobody Passes, Matt Bernstein ed.,Seal). [shobak.org]

CCiipprriiaann MMuurreessaannBorn in 1977 in Romania, where he also lives andworks. He is co-editor of the magazine VERSIONand since 2005 of the art magazine IDEA art +society. His works have been shown in Romania,Austria, Germany, Hungary, Finland and Israel

OOllggaa KKiisssseelleevvaaOne of the most accomplished Russian artists ofher generation. Graduated from St. PetersburgUniversity, she belongs to the first generationafter Perestroika, which helped to bring downthe Berlin Wall and cast aside the iron curtain.From the beginning of the 90s Olga Kisseleva onthe invitation of the Fulbright Foundation found aroof for her work in the research group in theUnited States which dealt with the developmentof digital technologies. She mainly stayed on theresearch laboratories in New York and inCalifornia, where she participated in the firstadventurous beginnings of Silicon Valley.In 1996 she is getting her PhD for her theoreticalwork on the theme of new forms of hybridizationand she is invited to the Fine Art Institut of“Hautes Etudes” in Paris.

IIrrwwiinnSince 1983, the IRWIN artist group (Dusan Mandi,Miran Mohar, Andrej Savski, Roman Uranjek,Borut Vogelnik) has been working with variousmedia, from painting to public art, from sculptur-al works and installations to publishing. Followingtheir "retro principle", the five-member-grouputilizes and combines different motifs, symbolsand signs from the fields of politics and art,which results in the transformation of their his-torical meaning and content, and in the re-con-textualisation and deconstruction of their relatedideologies.

JJuulliiaannee DDeebbeeuusssscchheerrResearcher in art history and freelance art criticbased in Milan. Her main interests focuse onEastern European art and its presentation withincontemporary discourses; she recently conduct-ed some researches on Irwin Group andRetroavantgarde's strategies in Yugoslavia.

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Guggenheim Museum in New York (2001);Kuenstlerhaus Bethanien in Berlin (2001); theMax Protetch Gallery, New York (2002 & 2005);the Nordenhake Gallery in Berlin (2003); thePBICA in Lake Worth, Florida (2003); and theMIT List Visual Arts Center in Cambridge,Massachusetts (2004). Her many on-site instal-lations include Balcony with Wind Turbine (theLiverpool Biennial, 2004) and Genesis (2005),which is on permanent display at the NobelPeace Center in Oslo. She has also published anumber of essays on contemporary urban archi-tecture. In 2005, she was a visiting professor atthe Center for Advanced Visual Studies at theMassachusetts Institute of Technology. In addi-tion, Potrc has been the recipient of numerousawards, including grants from the Pollock-Krasner Foundation (1993 and 1999), a PhilipMorris Kunstfoerderung Grant to participate inthe International Studio Program ofKuenstlerhaus Bethanien in Berlin (2000), theGuggenheim Museum's Hugo Boss Prize(Sponsored by Hugo Boss) 2000, and a CaracasCase Project Fellowship from the FederalCultural Foundation, Germany, and the CaracasUrban Think Tank, Venezuela (2002).

VViinncceenntt DDeellbbrroouucckkBorn in 1975, shifted from photojournalistic per-formance –black and white social documentaryseries in Cuba, Belgium, and Colombia– to a sim-pler, more direct confrontation with reality. heuse a mix media documentary portraits,polaroids, paintings, texts are mixed in note-books.He received the Memorial Giacomelli Prize (Italy)2002, and the Jean Salgaro Prize at the 14thNational Open Photography Prize in Belgium forhis work with demented women. He also receivedthe Vocation Bursary in 2003. He is now prepar-ing a book about his experiences in Havana.

IIaarraa BBoouubbnnoovvaaCurator and art critic from Sofia, born inMoscow, Russia, where she graduated from theDepartment of Art History and Theory atMoscow State University and worked as aJunior Editor at the Soviet Artist PublishingHouse. Since 1984, she has lived in Sofia,

Bulgaria and worked at the National Gallery forForeign Art as a curator of the Department ofEast European Art.Among other important curatorial projects areJoy at Casino Luxembourg and Dialectics ofHope, 1st Moscow Biennial of Contemporary Artin 2005, Manifesta 4 in Frankfurt am Main in2002 — all as co-curator.Boubnova is President of AICA Bulgaria andsince 2002 has been a board member of theInternational Foundation Manifesta. IaraBoubnova is the founding Director of theInstitute of Contemporary Art — Sofia.

LLuucchheezzaarr BBooyyaaddjjiieevvBorn in Sofia, Bulgaria in 1957. Trained as an arthistorian and theorist, became an artist after1989. Founding member of Institute ofContemporary Art. Has exhibited and lecturedinternationally, including After the Wall(Moderna, Stockholm), Temp-Balkania (Kiasma,Helsinki), Revolting (Manchester),Money/Nations (Zurich), Communication Front(Plovdiv), and Hybrid Workspace, documenta X(Kassell).

RRaassssiimmBulgarian artist. He exhibited in France, Bulgaria,Germany, Austria, Norway, Slovenia, Russia andStockholm. The main question about RASSIM is:is he an artwork or is he for real?

OOlliivviiaa PPlleennddeerrArtist and writer and currently co-editor of‘Untitled’ magazine. Her interest in magazine,comic strip and pulp fiction book cover formatsis evident in her drawings exploring fictional nar-ratives of bohemian lifestyles. In 2004 Plenderhas undertaken residencies at the VisualResearch Centre, Dundee Contemporary Arts;Grizedale Arts; and PS1, New York. Recent exhi-bitions include ‘Romantic Detachment’, NewYork; ‘East End Academy’ Whitechapel Gallery,London; and a solo show at DundeeContemporary Arts.

TTaalllleerr PPooppuullaarr ddee SSeerriiggrraaffiiaaGroup founded in 2002, Buenos Aires, Argentina,by Diego Posadas, Mariela Scafati and Magdalena

Organized in Bucharest by PAVILION

[contemporary art & culture magazine]

19 - 27 May 2007, DESANT, Bd. Ion Mihalache 123, Bucharest.

BUCHAREST BIENNALE 3 parallel event

exhibition / travelling vdeo installation

DIS-ECONOMY OF LIFE Migratory Aesthetics, Travelling Concepts & Organization of Economic Life

CINEMA SUITCASE

June 21 – 24, 2007

Opening : Tuesday, June 21, 2007 (19 :00h)Public Discussion : Friday, June 22, 2007 (19 :00h)

Desant123 Ion Mihalache Bd., Bucharest, Romania

Curator : Marko Stamenkovic, art-e-conomy / Belgrade, Serbia

Producer for Romania: PavilionSupported by: AFCN Romania, Pavilion, Desant

www.antibiotice.ro

Bucuresti - 013701, România

info@herris.ro00-40-21 317 90 60 61

Piata Presei Libere nr. 1

BBBUCHAREST BIENNALE | BUCHAREST INTERNATIONAL BIENNIAL FOR CONTEMPORARY ART

FOR CURATORS, CONCEPT, ARTISTS AND LOCATIONS: WWW.BUCHARESTBIENNALE.ORG