Monday, 7 May 2012

Self-Assertion of an English Garden (After-Life Topoi of Nazi Desire) Chapter 7


1.     Il faut cultiver notre jardin   
2.     Pêcheurs de lune
3.     Iterability of the Nazi State (Economy of Genocide)
4.     Growth (and Form/Morphe)
5.     Decay
6.     Pompes Funèbres
6.1.  Type (Model, Example, Tupos)
6.2.  Usus Tyrannus (Interlude)
6.3.  The Ageing of a Note
7.      Critique of Beginnings
8.      Demonology of Defeat 




7.      Critique of Beginnings

“Daß es zu den bösen Häusern hinausgehen muß, sieht man ja gleich im Anfang.” (“That it must go out to the bad houses, one sees that right in the beginning.”), Goethe

Oikos versus Polis

What does Heidegger then mean when he speaks of the “abyss of self-being” (Abgrund des Selbstseins)?  How does that co-exist (in the sense of falling away from being) with “self-assertion” (Selbstbehauptung)?  ‘Form of life’ for Agamben in Means without Ends is something, which ‘shields’ life from its bareness, its abandonment to sovereignty.  Not as in Esposito – for whom the form of life, which is community, is itself the site of my abandonment.

The emptiness of ‘my’ is not only linguistic alienation, it is linguistic nihilism.  Because language is paradigmatically a form of life, a relation into which I render my lack and there where community disappropriates me from myself through its rules – its acts of speech – I lose myself to the community in every act of speech.  Nostalgia is my longing for the nameless, speechless.
The political is not the extraordinary – it is the ordinary per se.  The political is the form of the common – how can one have a politics of the not-common (uncommon)?  The exceptional is in the “excess of common sense” – a superabundance of the ordinary, which leads to madness (according to Derrida in The Politics of Friendship).  Referring to Carl Schmitt’s The Concept of the Political he explains: “We are simply formalizing a principle of ruin or spectrality at the heart of this discourse on the political, a discourse of madness allied to an excess of common sense.” (Jacques Derrida, The Politics of Friendship, London/New York, 2005, p. 130)  

Fascism/Nazism lie precisely in this realm of the “excess of common sense”.  The by now commonplace definition of fascism which sees in it an ‘aestheticization of the political’ or ‘the political as a work of art’ has thereby immediately relegated the aesthetic to the same region of ‘common sense’.  [“(…) L’esthétisation de la politique, c’est-à-dire la politique comme religion artistique (ce qui est une définition possible du fascisme): “the aestheticization of the political, that is to say the political as an artistic religion (this is a possible definition of fascism)”, Alain Badiou, De la dialectique négative dans sa connexion à un certain bilan du Wagner, 1° partie, January 2005, online)].

More generally, any logical-historical contiguity between politics and a transcendent ‘non-political’ (art, thought) will invariably collapse into or “end in politics” – a quasi-axiom captured in the title of Lacoue-Labarthe’s essay on Heidegger’s “Rektoratsrede” (Inaugural Address) – “Transcendence Ends in Politics”.  Politics is the power of the common (the will to the common) over all singular or collective human action and substance. (One could also substitute - the same - for common.)  Politics is also the domain of the standard, the norm, of the average thus predictable quotidian interest.  What does the aestheticization – even more the artistic religion of the average look like?  Or is fascism (and its non-identical cousin Nazism) the way the average looks at itself ‘aesthetically’ as not average?

Hegel interprets Sophocles’ play Antigone in Phenomenology of Spirit as the demise of the ‘sittliche Substanz’ (moral substance) of the family and its suppression by the universality (Allgemeinheit) of the state.  His interpretation reveals that in both ‘blood universality’ and ‘formal universality’ the singular (das Einzelne) is ‘unreal’ (unwirklich). The “Unreality” (Unwirklichkeit) of the singular is perhaps the hidden continuity of the two formations.  Antigone is not just the abandoned figure of the demise of the family – its ‘moral substance’ (as the principle of collective life) was founded in the tragic history of a particular family – that of Oedipus and his multiple ‘family crimes’ – patricide and incest with his mother Jocasta.  Antigone is the fruit of this incestuous union.  Her tragic fate is also an example of the Greek view of how crime is bequeathed and its effects visited upon the subsequent generations of a family.  (Herodotus writes in his History how the crime of Gyges is still punished in the fourth generation in the figure of Croesus).  The drama of Antigone shows both the acting out of the ‘fate’ of Oedipus in the next generation and the historical surpassing of the rule of blood in itself.  Antigone is “unreal” because her fate is predetermined by the circumstances of her birth – her relation to ‘blood’.  In the family of Oedipus the “universality of blood” was not just sacrificed to the new formal universality, the epochal change embodied in the ascendant state – the Oedipal family was also condemned to fulfil a curse, one of those unprovoked divine judgements acted before any transgression.  (In Buddhist cosmology such a curse would be seen as punishment for crimes in a former life, not just a preceding generation.)  Doom is twofold.  Blood carries out its own immanent History, synonymous with tragedy, directly.  Memory is immediately genetic, and as such History – of blood.  Oddly Hegel does not refer to the particular history of Antigone and her family – he describes her simply as a representative of the old higher ‘divine’ law – the law of the community, the clan and its funeral rites – abandoned and surpassed by the new law of an impersonal ‘universality’ (Allgemeinheit).  The Greek tragedy though shows the extinction of a royal family, which has transgressed not just the laws of the appearing state – but also the laws of the family – of blood – they are guilty of violating the incest taboo and the interdict against murder of kin.
The immediate prehistory of the play – merely emphasizes the inexorable self-destruction of this incestuous family molecule – the two brothers (sons of Oedipus and Jocasta) have killed one another in a war of succession.  Creon deems one dead brother, Eteocles as a legitimate successor – the other dead brother Polynices is the ‘outlaw’ – and Antigone’s loyalty to the outlaw is the reason for her own death sentence.  Creon’s declaring of one branch of the transgressive family as legitimate for no particular reason – is sheer expediency.  The unity of law and hegemony must be preserved – the ‘bad blood’ of the family buried, but posthumously surviving in the new legitimacy of the state.  Hegel seems to say as much – the “dead spirit” (“dieser gestorbene Geist”) is incorporated (aufgehoben) in the new universal body and its constituent atoms – suggesting that new formations of spirit (institutions of state and law) are the afterlife of the old ones, come to gloss over and profit from the unbearable corruption of the deceased spirit – the dead ancestor. 
“The universal is splittered into the atoms of absolutely multiple individuals; this spirit, having died, is an equality in which all count for as much as each and each and all count as legal persons.”(G.W.F. Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit, Pinkard translation, PDF online, p. 431)
[“Das Allgemeine, in die Atome der absolut vielen Individuen zersplittert, dieser gestorbene Geist ist eine Gleichheit, worin Alle als Jede, als Personen gelten. -”, (G.W.F. Hegel, Phänomenologie des Geistes, Frankfurt, 1976, p. 355)]

The old dead blood speaks through the new law.

Antigone possesses more raison d’état than Creon, a rather inept legislator and administrator of the new state – she is instinctively moved to bury the transgressive fratricidal body of the incest clan – to end the spectacle of its putrefaction on the plain outside the city walls of Thebes.  The sight of the physical remains of the old ruling power becoming carrion, visible for all, is a danger for the new power.  Creon is a divided figure of transition – burying just one brother properly, refusing to bury the other one, and then burying Antigone alive who wises to correct his error of omission - the complete burial of the dead ‘spirit’ of the defunct royal family.

It is the ‘cunning of spirit’ – that the metamorphosed dead spirit of blood – in itself hermetic, exclusive and unequal – should be transformed into an equality of atomic parts – where all is everyman – and this everyman is the legal person.  The legal person is the fundamental concept of the law – it supplants the biological singular – the unreal splitter of the clan based on blood ties.  Hegel considers civil law and the concept of the legal person, the empty mask, the creation of Rome.  The Nazi entity regressed historically in the Hegelian sense of a dialectical movement of spirit – but to a fiction of an archaic race unity and purity – formal universality was forcibly reconverted into the universality of blood – not of a clan or a dynasty but of a race-state, a super-clan – in which every race-man is a formally equal race-atom.  In the inverted logic of the terra incognita of Nazi ‘legality’ - what appears historically as a regression was conceived at the time as a forward movement in a “shoreless sea”.  Even if the ‘new’ “juridical concepts” were “indeterminate” – the former jurisprudence based on an abstract formal universality (according to Hegel the higher stage of spirit) was seen as “the way backward”:
“The entire application of law thus lies between Scylla and Charybdis.  The way forward seems to condemn us to a shoreless sea and to move us ever farther from the firm ground of juridical certainty and adherence to the law, which at the same time is still the ground of the judges’ independence.  Yet the way backward, which leads toward the formalistic superstition of law which was recognized as senseless and superseded long ago, is not worthy of consideration.”
(Carl Schmitt, State, Movement, People, Hamburg, 1933, cited in Giorgio Agamben, Homo Sacer, ibid., p. 172).

The Nazi race-state was a non-universal universality – an ‘inoperative’ hybrid of community, formal determinations of race (as opposed to familial blood ties) and state police power.  Thus the legal form of the person derived from Roman civil law was no longer valid in Nazi jurisprudence – a biological race person (the full mask - the ‘biopolitical’ substitute for the legal person) was invented in its stead (Carl Schmitt’s “equality of stock”).  

State of exception means the exceptional state of the ordinary – the exceptional form of the law –, which is the same as the exceptional form of the rule. The exception is not simply enacted in the present by a singular contingent ruler – it is inscribed in the dead yet undying spirit of ancestral succession, its birth from the cadaver of the preceding form (vaguely similar to the way parasitic flies lay eggs in “zombie bees”, emerging as larvae from the entrails of the dead bee).  The law is not a consistent object utterly opposed to ‘the exception’ – the law is ‘indeterminate’ - fabricated from exceptions or precedence accruing over unaccountable (immeasurable) time to rules or so-called laws.  The universal fact that judges and other legal personnel must interpret laws based on always-incomplete data (evidence) shows that law is dependent on ‘mood’ and contingency – law is in itself a permanent state of exception.  There is nothing exact about the law, despite its underlying principle or myth of ‘equality’.  This state of inexactitude and unknowability is normal.
“Law is the Ur-phenomenon of irrational rationality.”, as Adorno writes in Negative Dialectic.  There is no external guarantee of the law.
Law is the model of any hermeneutics – in which “Truth is the proof of itself” (Badiou). 
If politics (the political) is in a certain sense what is ‘common’ in human society/intercourse (koinonia) – law intersects the common where it verges on the exceptional.    

The law though would be nothing without obedience.  What is the origin of obedience – it is hardly a naturally occurring phenomenon? Obedience is the epitome of “second nature” – of a process of domestication.  Obedience transcends the distinction between animal and human – Wittgenstein frequently refers to obedience in the context of “abrichten” (training of dogs).  The following of a rule is thus not specifically human. A dog or a horse (the main domesticated animals) obeys in the same way as a human obeys.  Although – domestication, the concept of rule and its application are human objectifications coeval with language. 

Obedience is the law of the oikos – the origin of despotism, inequality and the division of labour is the family, the household.  The names rex, pater, dominus, anax, basileus etc., honorifics that establish rank and servitude, originate in the family.  The Greek polis was the liberation from the oikos, the realm of necessity dictated by the needs of mere survival or self-preservation.  

The polis is the realm of freedom from such necessity and from the rule of others, hence a society of equals, Marx’s Reich der Freiheit (kingdom of freedom); the sheer prolongation of life was the purpose of the oikos –the oikos is the Reich der Notwendigkeit (kingdom of necessity), slavery.  Otanes, one of the seven Persian conspirators against the Magian usurper of the Persian throne in 6th century B.C.E. represented the Greek ideal of isonomia (equality) as the best form of government for Persia.  He is unable to convince his fellow conspirators, amongst them Darius, the future king, but wins the right “neither to rule nor be ruled”.  Herodotus who reports this story (The History, Book 3.80-83) is reflecting the Greek view that inequality was the absence of freedom.  (see H. Arendt, “The Polis and the Household” in The Human Condition, Chicago, 1998, pp. 28-38). 

Babeuf’s “Societé des Égaux”, besides rendering homage to Rousseau, imitated the idea of the society of equals in the polis.  In choosing this name they identify with a bios politikos beyond the necessity of labour – a realm of freedom not the mere reproduction of their lives as the working class.

Typical of Heidegger’s falsifying of Greek concepts (and his misappropriating of the Greek idea of what is public or political), his so-called Führer-polis is a contradiction in terms if not nonsensical. The Nazi polis envisioned by Heidegger was to have been founded on the strictest “Rang und Ordnung” (rank and order). Heidegger installs the structure of obedience and command – the rank – within Sein itself.  The national social form he envisions as most suitable to Being – is if anything a Führer-oikos, not a polis.

In the Greek polis or bios politikos – the second elevated life – equality is the sole order – but the oikos, its opposite “was the center of strictest inequality” (The Human Condition, ibid., p. 32).  The bourgeois concept of freedom (an Englishman’s home is his castle) – still reflects the Greek idion or private sphere where only the household master was free – the rest (including intruders) were subject to his supreme jurisdiction and all to the necessities of life.  Unlike bourgeois society though where nothing exists beyond the oikos (society is merely the greater oikia), above the Greek oikos was the koinon or collective, – the site of bios politikos – the society of free equals. (Beyond that still was the life of contemplation.)  Greek political life or bios politikos was the reverse of the double servitude to the contingencies of survival and to an absolute household ruler – but naturally presupposed their existence. 

Paradoxically - as opposed to Greek antiquity when the oikos was a law unto itself – so that children could be sold into slavery etc – in the age of the private, the universal oikos of bourgeois civil society and government, this dungeon of privacy is opened to public scrutiny of law and social agencies.
  
The modality of being of Heidegger’s community or collective hierarchical Dasein called Mitsein (Being-with), supplanting Care (Sorge) in the order of importance, is Work of the “Worker” in the Ernst Jünger sense of the figure (Gestalt) of ‘substantial’ hegemony, the militant of the command “Work-State”.  Although the prevalence of terms denoting ‘dwelling’ and ‘house’ and ‘inhabiting’ (habitation), ‘gathering’ show that Heidegger’s true reference is always the domestic setting – in other words again oikia.  “Dwelling” is the pivot of one of Heidegger’s favourite quotations from Hölderlin, cited in Letter on Humanism: “Full of merit, yet poetically, man/ Dwells on this earth.”

Another mystery of the reception of Heidegger’s thought – is that he is seen as the philosopher of the ‘nothing’ and of its correlate time – of the subject as the ‘thrown’ nothingness of time (a thought much more proper to Hegel); Being in Heidegger absolutely swallows the dynamic self-positing, self-negating movement of Hegel’s “Spirit” or “Self-Consciousness”.  Even “nihilating” (das Nichtende) is only in Being – and only because thinking thinks Being, does it think the nothing. He anticipates this critique – striking out pre-emptively at the “absolute idealism of Hegel and Schelling” – whose absolute subject is “unconditioned will that wills itself and does so as the will of knowledge and of love” – a willing in which Being as “will to power is still concealed”. (Martin Heidegger, Letter on Humanism, translated by Frank A. Capuzzi, in Pathmarks, 1949, PDF online, p. 273)

Obviously here Heidegger has abandoned his own discourse of power and will, which still thrilled him in “Nietzsches Wort “Gott ist tot”” (“Nietzsche’s Word “God is Dead””, 1943) and in the Rektoratsrede (1934).  The passing reference to Hegel’s and Schelling’s ‘disrespect’ for Being seems almost a bitter self-quotation. Absolute subjectivity’s unconditioned willing still hides Being captured by the siren “will to power”.  But why ‘still’?  Is Heidegger identifying with Hegel and Schelling as if with his other earlier self – and saying here I am still enthralled by “will to power” and not yet in thrall directly to “Being”?  Is this passage an ‘esoteric writing’ concealing within his ‘critique’ of “will to power” a veiled reprise, a nostalgic adieu to the euphoria of that “great beginning”?  Then he was moved to declare in the name of the German Nazi University and its ‘militant body of teachers and pupils’ (“the will of knowledge and love”) - that they were the will that willed themselves:
“We do will ourselves.  For the young strength of the people, which already reaches beyond us, has by now decided the matter.” (Martin Heidegger, The Self-Assertion of the German University and The Rectorate 1933/1934: Facts and Thoughts, Review of Metaphysics, 38:3 (1985:Mar.) p. 480)

Now (1947) in the sober present of the Letter on Humanism– any act whether of affirmation or negation (the ‘yes’ or the ‘no’) belongs apriori to Being.  Dasein is properly will-less – dependent and obedient (hörig), in thrall to Sein (Being). 
As compensation for this surrender of all power to Being – Dasein like any minion of a feudal order – receives ‘protection’ or Hut against the vicissitudes of fate from its feudal lord Being.
Heidegger’s prose is littered with images of “hold” (Halt) and residing – nowhere more than in connection with Being.  Being and “humankinds” (Menschentümer) literally share the same house – it is language. So that in Letter on Humanism in which Heidegger indulges in an obsessive density of such ‘homey’ metaphors, one finds:
“Wesentlicher als alle Aufstellung von Regeln ist, daß der Mensch zum Aufenthalt in die Wahrheit des Seins findet.  Erst dieser Aufenthalt gewährt die Erfahrung des Haltbaren.  Den Halt für alles Verhalten verschenkt die Wahrheit des Seins.  “Halt” bedeutet in unserer Sprache die “Hut”.  Das Sein ist die Hut, die den Menschen in seinem ek-sistenten Wesen dergestalt zu ihrer Wahrheit behütet, daß sie die Eksistenz in der Sprache behaust.  Darum ist die Sprache zumal das Haus des Seins und die Behausung des Menschenwesens.  Nur weil die Sprache die Behausung des Wesens des Menschen ist, können die geschichtlichen Menschentümer und Menschen in ihrer Sprache nicht zuhause sein, (...).” (“More essential than instituting rules is that human beings find the way to their abode in the truth of being.  This abode first yields the experience of something we can hold on to.  The truth of being offers a hold for all conduct.  “Hold” in our language means protective “heed”.  Being is the protective heed that holds the human being in his ek-sistent essence to the truth of such protective heed – in such a way that it houses ek-sistence in language.  Especially since language is the house of being, it is the dwelling of human essence.  Only because language is the dwelling of the essence of the human being can historical humankinds and human beings not be at home in their language, (…).”
Martin Heidegger, Brief über den Humanismus, Frankfurt 1947, p. 45; Letter on Humanism, ibid., p.274 ) 
As if Being were a quasi divine benevolent mater and ‘householder’ (Haushälterin – also means ‘housekeeper’ in German) – who looks after Dasein/Mitsein’s ‘dwelling’ while he/they/we are away, distracted by our human historical machinations (Machenschaften), estranged from our proper dwelling in the language of Being.
Far from being ‘thrown’ and abandoned in its finitude, Dasein is held under the forced protection (“Hut”) of Sein (Being) – Being will always usher Dasein back ‘home’ to its ‘abode in truth’ – like the pastoralist driving the herd back into their stalls.  

[Commentary: In Sein und Zeit the mode of “Un-zuhause” – the not-at-homeness of Dasein has almost the opposite valence.  Not-at-homeness was the proper mode of Dasein’s naked “thrownness” – whereas Being-in-the-world/Being-with in the They was “seductive, calming and alienated”.  These continual shifts in Heidegger’s termini, within one text and historically, make it difficult for his apologists to decide if he is the philosopher of the “cum”, the being-with, community, the interworld or of the “nothingness” and nowhere-ness of singular Dasein’s foundation.]

For Heidegger – in the wake of Ernst Jünger’s Der Arbeiter – technology becomes another such protected dwelling - a habitation of Being.  It is no longer a separate technique (techne) or a specific kind of thinking one might call instrumental – for Heidegger/Jünger technology is the re-forming or re-shaping of Being through the type/figure of the Worker.  That is why Heidegger says – the essence of technology is not technological.  Technology is the totum – not just a part in which quantification and calculable processes dominate.  The chapter title in Ernst Jünger’s Der Arbeiter - “Technik als Mobilisierung der Welt durch die Gestalt des Arbeiters” (“Technology as the Mobilisation of the World through the Figure of the Worker”), reveals this fusion or union of the type of the worker, technology as a synonym for Being and the movement called ‘mobilisation of the world’.  Language then is also Technology – presaging Heidegger’s language as the ‘house of being”, Ernst Jünger specifies: “Technik in diesem Sinne ist die Beherrschung der Sprache, die im Arbeitsraume gültig ist.  Diese Sprache ist nicht weniger bedeutend, nicht weniger tief als jede andere, da sie nicht nur Grammatik, sondern auch Metaphysik besitzt.  In diesem Zusammenhang spielt die Maschine eine ebenso sekundäre Rolle wie der Mensch, sie ist nur eines der Organe, durch die diese Sprache gesprochen wird.” [“Technology in this sense is the mastering of the language, which is valid in the work space.  This language is not less significant, not less deep, than any other, because it possesses not only grammar but also metaphysics.  In this context the machine plays as much a secondary role as the human, it (the machine) is only one of the organs through which this language is spoken.”, Ernst Jünger, Der Arbeiter Herrschaft und Gestalt, (first published in 1932), Stuttgart, 1982 pp. 155-156] 

Jean Luc Nancy continues in this Jünger vein, when he praises Heidegger’s utterances on technology, which echo its elevation to the rank of a ‘dwelling’ and a “sending of being”. “(…) To “inhabit” technology, or to “welcome” it, would be nothing other than inhabiting and welcoming the finitude of sense.” (Jean-Luc Nancy, “A Finite Thinking” in A Finite Thinking, Stanford, 2003, p. 25) 

Technology has become for this Heideggerian strain – the oikos of being.






A Type of Nazi Desire

In the promiscuous commingling of Oedipus and the Worker, juxtaposed in the briefest of texts by Lacoue-Labarthe entitled “Oedipus as Figure” – one senses something of the potency of the afterlife of ‘Nazi desire’.  There are two main figures of humanity – says Lacoue-Labarthe – Oedipus of course – this is desire or the unconscious - and The Worker – a nameless figure – but its name manqué is that of its ‘author’ named as Ernst Jünger.  The Worker is actually also a name for desire in its impersonal form of pure energy – figured or figural energy, the Nazi atom – to be expended in the construction of the total state and its new form of ‘subjected’ power.  If Oedipus is energy as unconscious desire – the Worker is energy as conscious obedience.  Obedience is nothing less than a certain receptivity to the new language of command adequate to the worker and the new form of domination.  The secret of the language of command is that it never promises, it only demands – that the worker recognize his ‘deepest happiness’ in being sacrificed (Jünger, ibid. p. 74).  The command has the form of pointing the worker towards the desired and desirable sacrifice.
The Fascist/Nazi golem particle of Worker-Energy and libidinal Desire is spawned prismatically in Lacoue-Labarthe’s sketch – their juxtaposition, forced “kinship”, acts almost like a rebus, disclosing the ‘Nazi desire’ of the text itself.  The text becomes the ground of the incestuous cross-sexualizing of the figure of The Worker and the figure of Oedipus.
The worker is sheer embodied energy for the Work-State – but without ‘desiring man’ (Oedipus) such energy of ‘working man’ would self-abort.  Towering above both is “Ge-stell” – the being or essence of technology.  Work and the Worker is the seam (mediation) between Being and the Nazi State – “energy that is applied and put to work.” (“Oedipus as Figure”, Lecture at Brown University, 1983, PDF, online, p. 1)  Finally the Worker is tantalized with the subjectivity of poiesis then deprived of any – the worker is the inhuman in human form – a “mode of Ge-stell.” (frame) (ibid.).  “The figure or Gestalt of the Worker is understood by Heidegger as being one of the modes in which the essence of technology is deployed, or in other words one of the modes of Ge-stell.  The word designates the unity of coming together of all modes of Stellen, ‘formulating’ or ‘(re)presenting’ in general, from Vorstellung to Gestalt.  It therefore designates being in its last envoi.” (ibid., p. 2)   
In this pithy form one sees how Lacoue-Labarthe moves smoothly from Jünger’s The Worker to Heidegger’s “Ge-stell” – whereby Ge-stell is another term for the “essence of technology” or sometimes just “danger”; the ouroboros who masterfully swallows all with the final jaws of Being (“in its last envoi”).


Worship of Fields

Ancient Roman religion began as worship of fields and hearths and progressed to the worship of the State, the immaterial field.  The worship of the State, from an evolutionary point of view (elemental forms of religion), is an agricultural cult of the fallow heart. 

Dressed as a crow I went out to the flat fields.  The ones with the open view and the naked masts.  Where the train crosses in the emptiness and one can see beyond the vineyards on the other side of the river.  Under the train tracks.  The curved passageway (like the entrance to a caravanserai) under the red brick arch of the railroad bridge echoes my footsteps.  A flat dry echo.  The bridge is on the edge of the hut-like dwellings forming the last row of ‘Fortress Longbourne’ on either side of which are some pump and power stations made of clusters of similar brick one story structures surrounded by a series of high prickly fences.  Those living next to them can also claim in potential real estate agency advertisements that they are ‘surrounded by fields’.  The dirt road beyond the railroad bridge passageway has so many tracks in it one doesn’t know which of them is really the footpath.  I lose my bearings.  There are no landmarks or rather there are only landmarks.  The field is one great landmark.  I guess vaguely where the river is – white in colour at this time of year and in the late afternoon.  But I think I’m closer to the Longbourne Meadows than I really am.  They are inestimably sadder than the cow fields on the other side.  Longbourne is as addicted to sadness as anywhere in Africa especially during flood time.  A metal bar gate is lying on its side where I decide to cross the black waterway almost hidden from view.  A field can be very lugubrious, like a desert, no perceptible changes, a so-called wasteland even though the river is still associated with pleasure boats and summer promenades – what the locals call ‘messing around in boats’.  I knew the fields would affect me in this way and they did.  The houses on stilts on the other side of the river with their mirrored impervious doors and sides – one should expect no quarter.  Further back on the other side are truncated views of houses, no lights, no movement.  So close to the Longbourne hurly-burly.  One could imagine guests and relatives behind those walls consigned to cots, set up in ramshackle stalls, awaiting their conversion for the last fifty years.  A field can be as much an oubliette as a hole deep in the ground.  All the more a house surrounded by fields on all sides.  On the other hand the wrong eyes can easily discover it.  If it has a clock tower that’s for the lookout, besides that it needs a palisade.  I told my acquaintance who lives amidst fields and is looking for a new house amidst other fields, that I am more inspired by people and passing (moving) things especially in the dark than fields.  This is the proof.  Sometimes it is too late to part.  That’s much worse.  Besides I’m not a horse.  The picture of their barn gave me the feeling the field grew right up to the eaves both inside and outside.  The house stood in a cold shadow, possibly facing the north winds – but then the winds come in at 360°.  The luminous parts were the unconverted stalls.  They planned to turn them into a concert venue.  The grass grew crooked like dense rows of green rickety picket fences.  The house was set in the fields as in green aspic.  (The word aspic comes from asp – comparing the colour of the jelly to the colour of the snake on Cleopatra’s bosom) – the quivering snaky grass of the field besets the house from all angles.  Living in a field one can learn to loathe the colour green.  The mud clutches each foot as you set it down and holds it in its mouth each time you pull it out again, kicking the earth away as if it were some animal tugging you in the wrong direction.  If hermits had been really penitent, they would have lived in fields and not in caves like St Benedict. Is there a ‘natural redemption’ to correspond with ‘natural evil’?

One familiar sight, the white iron latticework bridge is enough to calm me down, although still far from it, close to it in the line of vision.  The swans are a rectangular solid group looking like a low plaster mantelpiece and as such suggesting a beckoning hearth.  Even if no fire was burning.  Such mirages of domesticity are dangerous when in fields.  The vague islands in the middle of the river – more like stumps of riverbank strayed out or away from the side – interrupt the stippled solid looking river.  For some not yet identified reason, the white square mansion and its weeping willows on the opposite side of the river near the bridge do not arouse in me feelings of desolation although equally dark, lifeless and ponderous.  I even sit on a bench for a while regarding the big white house and its trees and black windows as one would a painting in the National Gallery.


Racial Impurity

How hard to remember from one planting season to the next.  We transplanted the big semi-double-blossomed rugosa rose (Rosa ‘Blanche Double de Coubert’) from the Gallica rose bed to the ‘meadow’ on the wattle hurdle last autumn.  Now I can’t remember where it is exactly.  A big rugosa is standing in front of the wattle hurdle – but looking like a hybrid of two plants.  The pale hairy stems of the rugosa have smooth thinner branches of a red brown colour – as if from a Rosa canina (dog rose) with numerous dried out hips – just like a dog rose would have.  Next to this double plant is a straight up-and-down rugosa with some buds and foliage spouting at the very bottom, from the base.  It stands closer to the boundary of the former or so-called sucker field – almost within it.  So most likely it is one of those many wildly growing suckers of the long vanished rugosa – a relic of the much-noted presence of the erstwhile owner of this house and garden, Godwin Baynes, the Jungian psychoanalyst with his distinctly horticultural theories of schizophrenia. For Baynes ‘grafting’ or the nursery method of mounting a desired rose on top of a vigorous crude fast growing stock was the model of the psychotic will energizing the civilized persona.  The new hybridic creature next to the ordinary sucker is much more ‘Baynesianesque’ alias ‘psychotic’ – it appears to have been created by a subterranean takeover of the newly transplanted Rosa ‘Blanche Double de Coubert’ by the wild dog roses that have always been in the earth around that spot.  The dog rose grafted itself onto the white rugosa – de-purifying the stock.  It saw the new rose merely as an opportune pedestal for its own wild growth. The ‘moment’ on the rose shoot where the hairy stem of the exquisite cultivated Rosa ‘Blanche Double de Coubert’ smoothes upward into the thin tawny coloured stem of the ordinary Rosa canina already sprouting its ordinary leaves, but still showing some of the original bristles of the higher rose cultivar below poignantly seems to demonstrate – given the chance, nature and “second nature” will always undo civilisation and revert to some kind of lower form of Ur-species. This is what happens (more or less) in Baynes’ theory of psychosis.

The presence of Baynes and the other man who was briefly the Baynes’ house guest, D H Lawrence is most strong in the garden. I don’t really think they are in the house at all. They stick to the land. The garden on its western boundary is overrun by a rugosa alba rose which is only a field of suckers. The original rose, if there ever was one, has disappeared. I don’t remember the suckers being there in the beginning of our time - but they have gradually taken over the most fertile sunny spot although quite marshy. We have just started planting the sucker meadow with other equally strong growers. The rose isn’t ugly - it blossoms one single rose at a time throughout the summer. The rose smells very sweet. But it isn’t one of Shelley’s ‘sensitive plants’. Unfortunately it has succeeded in killing off most of the beautiful Spanish lavender planted amongst it. Along the same side as the sucker field under the old privet hedge we discovered a bottomless narrow opening (too small for a human and too big for an animal). Beneath the best and largest apple tree on the other side is a square of grass distinctly marked by 4 long mossy stones sunk into the earth. When one steps into the square the earth inside sags like an old roof and is much spongier and weaker than anywhere else around it. What unknown caryatids stand in this upright grave? Too tired to carry the load anymore.

Baynes liked to think of himself as a ‘nursery man’. His father Helton Baynes had been a timber merchant and a devout Puritan in the “Home Counties”. He suffered from agoraphobia. Actually Baynes Senior chose the house we are living in, a good solid house until this day. The garden is an old orchard. We still have plums and apples from it as they did when Baynes and family lived here. Baynes wasn’t really a naturalist, although his whole theory of the schizophrenic personality relies on a wrong analogy of grafting. Grafts are the artificial means of propagating plant merchandise - by attaching the desired plant (scion) to a crude but vigorous root stock. This is the common old procedure especially for roses and ornamental trees such as the contorted hazel and for fruit trees. The enemy of the nursery man says Baynes is the ‘sucker’. A wild growth coming up out of the old root stock. One has to be brutal as a plant businessman and rip it out at the source. Baynes mixes up these suckers and other naturally occurring suckers of certain types of shrubs and trees. “The all too familiar suckers in the rose-garden are the attempt of nature to counteract too much culture by a reversion to type.” (H. G. Baynes, Mythology of the Soul A Research into the Unconscious from Schizophrenic Dreams and Drawings, London, 1940, p. 400) Our orchard is full of plum and rose suckers - merely identical seedlings of the original. Baynes describes that archaic ‘shadow’ underneath the civilized personality as the ‘sucker’, sapping the strength of the persona or ‘mask’.
The sucker is the ‘reversion to type’, essentially different or even ‘horrific’.
“The sucker is the ‘shadow’ of the rose” writes Baynes on page 400. Maybe the memory of the Nijinsky ballet Le Spectre de la Rose winged through his mind as he wrote this one and only axiom of his homegrown vampire botany. In Baynes-Jungian terms the ‘shadow’ is the archaic or psychotic will feeding on and eventually devouring the civilized persona.

Baynes’ thinking is based on simple muscular reflexes. He cannot think genetically of unforeseeable morphologies. He thinks instinct is always to be trusted. His vampire science does not apply when the ‘graft hybrids’ of two genetically dissimilar tissues occur in the cells genetically and spontaneously as in the case of plant ‘chimera’ or animal ‘mosaics’ (also called mutations).
There is no type to which such a mutation can revert.
Nature doesn’t look back. The unnatural doesn’t either. Mutations are the only hope against deadlocks in the natural or unnatural world. A vampire is never so instinctually hermetic that it won’t eventually generate its own genetically superior vampire-chimera with new undying instincts.

Of course, I often fall asleep at my table during the day and when one is asleep is when the vampires come and suck on you but only at night.
I prefer to think we are our own vampire like Baudelaire’s “Le Vampire” - even if delivered of the curse we would go on resuscitating the cadaver of our own chimera with our own ‘kiss of life’.

The orchard is a green vampire.
The oldest apple tree in the orchard seems to have gone to sleep for good. The dynasty withers tree by tree. The old apple tree is a mysterious skeleton covered by phosphorescent scale - still beguiling maybe more. The dark carcass sparkles indefinitely. The mood is insatiable. We have had to plant many other plants since coming to this orchard, the more plants we put in this earth the less rooted we become.





Unscientific Postscript

Baynes made his pilgrimage to Berchtesgaden some time in the thirties – viewing the endlessly frenzied building site of Obersalzberg at firsthand, Hitler’s personal mountain kingdom.  He may have even been privileged to have had a personal tour of Hitler’s teahouse “Adlerhorst” in the mountains – Baynes refers to the “Eagle’s Eyrie on the summit of the Obersalzberg” in his book entitled Germany Possessed.  “He is proud to show this place and to receive his distinguished diplomatic visitors there.” (H.G. Baynes, Germany Possessed, London, 1941, p. 61)  (Baynes died in 1943.)  Hermann Rauschning, the Nazi defector, favoured his book with an introduction.  Baynes assimilates English Jungian folklore to the figure of the ‘possessed shamanistic mad Hitler’ who is said by Rauschning to regularly foam at the mouth, quake from terrifying visions, and turn purple during his fits of rage.  How could Baynes the curious Englishman resist that temptation?  I avoid reading that book as best I can – something moved me to break my own rules.  I immediately felt that it had been exerting its influence on me – even unread.  Why else would I have mentioned the teahouse in the mountains or Hitler’s excessive love of Mehlspeisen – considered an effeminate trait by Baynes?  Or Wu Wei?  Baynes in his final chapter “Factors Governing Morale” compares the British “instinctual way” with the inscrutably reserved “acting—non-acting” practised by the Chinese sages.  This he contrasts with the Jungian type ‘Wotan possession’ he predictably discovers in the German.  Legends of sleeping emperors in their lairs with their beards wrapped around the table legs  abound.       


Les Natchez

The difference between the palace and the hut is sometimes very small – the distance quite close.  The directors in Kafka’s The Castle are possessed by nostalgia for the lowliness of the villagers.  Does sovereignty have nostalgia for community?  Although Derrida considers sovereignty able to play in all keys and registers – the very high and the very low, great and small – always potent, whatever the scale – “What counts is the more, the economy of the more, (…) the smaller able to be more powerful or even larger than the largest: another logical effect of the law according to which, remember what Nietzsche says about it, the weaker can be stronger than the stronger ⎯ and that’s the whole of history.” (Jacques Derrida, The Beast and the Sovereign Volume I, (Chicago, 2009), PDF, online p. 259)

Is impotency greater than potency under certain circumstances?

Ludwig II of Bavaria often preferred the company of his servants, grooms and peasants to that of courtiers.  Perhaps he liked their company too well – as their gossip formed the damning evidence in the case for declaring him mad and deposing him.  Proust’s Monsieur de Charlus surrounded himself later on in life with apprentices, delivery boys and shop assistants who had to pretend to be vicious dissolute criminals while performing their paid acts of cruelty upon him.  They were never vicious enough for his taste. But then again, they weren’t really apaches – they were just bad actors.  Or perhaps Charlus was a bad audience of his own supplices. This nostalgia of the high for the low and abject is even visible in monumental and grandiose architecture.  The pyramid temples of the Aztecs are merely huts elevated to an enormous height on top of inordinately large step pyramids.

Two photographs are on two facing pages of a travel essay on the Mississippi which I opened at random possessed of vague thought – just glancing from one to the other, the slender columns of the portico along the front of a plantation mansion, appear to be an imitation of the white narrow trunks of a row of eucalyptus trees in front of the hut on stilts of a Bayou swamp inhabitant.  The swamp dwelling and the late 18th century plantation house are in Natchez and its surroundings.  In the 18th century Natchez was still known as the name of the Indian tribe living in that part of the Mississippi Valley.  The old Chateaubriand corrected the manuscript of his youth entitled Les Natchez – miraculously restored to him after being lost for thirty years. René, the disillusioned exiled hero, philosophizes in Rousseauist style with very wise Indians from the tribe of Natchez.     


The Thirty Tyrants

The thirty tyrants are the ones who come before the “Schluß-Tyrann” (“End-Tyrant”, Nietzsche).  The “Last Man” is a tyrant.  Call him a ‘Katechon’.  Tyrannosaurus rex.





Obedience

Blumenberg in Derridaesque fashion examines the contract of substitution between humans and the divine legislator.  Human sacrifice is transformed in the cult or religion into the offering up in its stead of absolute obedience – obedience being itself a sacrifice of one’s freedom – at least in part.  Not the rule implies or dictates obedience, but the exception, which does not take place – the absent human sacrifice.  Obedience and not the rule is at the origin of law.  The waiving of the demand for human sacrifice is paid for with absolute obedience – or humans ‘reward’ the deity for desisting from this demand.  In the commandment the suspended law of human sacrifice is ever present – as the Ur-form of all law or commandments.  The Decalogue (ten commandments) is a reflexive covenant – “thou shalt not kill” – is God speaking to himself and to his creatures.  The Ten Commandments enshrine this substitution of absolute obedience for human sacrifice – for they represent the pact of absolute obedience – they must be obeyed – not for themselves but in fulfilment of the divine contract.
“The place of the offering up of human life is taken by the offering up of absolute obedience, both in the history of the patriarchs, as a prelude to the giving of the Law in the Sinai and to Paul’s concept of faith, and of the Spartan state myth.” (Hans Blumenberg, “After the Absolutism of Reality” Work on Myth, Cambridge, 1985, p. 20)

The clerico-legal exchange of sacrifice for obedience though seems to undo a view of ‘the human condition’ as work, labour or action (Arendt).  It also undermines the idealist-materialist concept of subjective sensual activity, the fabrication of self and the world in its ‘objecthood’.
The absolutely obedient subject aspires itself to ‘objecthood’ - the perfect submission of inert matter.  So is Simone Weil’s interpretation of Paul’s Christological doctrine of obedience – the imitation of Christ is at the same time the attaining of passivity resembling that of inert matter for which Christ on the cross is the model.

Obedience is a form of inaction or action with suspended will. 
Arendt ranks action, as the political sphere of human activity, higher than work.  Action differs from work in at least one sense – it is impossible to both abstain from work and work – but possible to abstain from action and act.  Seen in this light – is abstract labour – action or even labour (considered as the quintessential human praxis)?  Abstract labour is not a category of philosophical anthropology – based on ‘homo faber’.  Abstract labour is a mere derivative of the law of value – no human qualities are manifested in abstract labour.  The praxis Marx refers to in the Feuerbach Theses – the sensual activity proper to the human species – has nothing to do with abstract labour.  Nor is it a process – it is only a quantitative result, the source of value in the capitalist production process – calculable only a posteriori.  Abstract labour is a component or attribute of capital – not of the human species or species-being.  One could equally say that humans have an organ for breeding money biologically.  Or that money is one of the senses – sensible and intelligible. 
         
But what about the ‘defeatist object’ – the one that falls apart – is that also obedience?  In essence there is no such thing as an inert mass.
But besides that, Weil’s claim that inert matter is a model of obedience is false – obedience cannot originate in inert matter – without resisting, it obeys nothing - resists any use.  If used, then without its own obedience.  Obedience can only be of a willed individual or body whose will has been subjugated, formed, harnessed to the desires of another, ‘broken’ – as in the relation between “Führung und Gefolgschaft” (leaders and followers) envisioned by Heidegger in the “Self-Assertion of the German University”. The newly inaugurated rector Heidegger is the “geistige Führung” (spiritual leader), student and teacher bodies are the followers (Gefolgschaft).  Together they form what in Heidegger’s formula of Sein und Zeit he calls the “kämpfende Nachfolge” (militant discipleship).  No rupture occurs between Dasein’s militancy/politics in the world as such – the foundation of militancy/politics itself – and Dasein’s militancy as ‘scientific Da-sein’ in the German university of 1933.

Although this relation of obedience of “Führung und Gefolgschaft” is reflexive and conditioned in a manifold sense – it is in particular ‘grounded’ in the essence of the German university.  But beyond that and immanent thereto – this essence can not achieve clarity, rank and power if the leader is also not himself led by the unrelenting spiritual “Auftrag” (task, mission, order) forced by the fate of the German people in the stamp (Gepräge) of its history.  The energy, which this body would have expended (wasted) for its own desires, must be redirected or transformed into the obedience/will for another who could also be the self.
Obedience then is a kind of ‘decision’ not to ‘decide’ for ‘oneself’ but for the other to whom one has leased one’s will.  In Derrida’s complicated world/matrix of substitution of self and absolute other – such heteronomy underlies the structure of any decision.  There is in essence no ‘free’ decision – just as there is no autonomous subject.  Hence obedience constitutes the structure of the decision – or the decision is the suspended norm of obedience.  As he writes in The Politics of Friendship – in spirit and tone not far from Blumenberg’s idea of absolute obedience: 
“But should one imagine, for all that, a ‘passive’ decision, as it were, without freedom (...) it signifies in me the other who decides and rends.  The passive decision, condition of the event, is always in me, structurally, another event, a rending decision as the decision of the other.  Of the absolute other in me, the other as the absolute that decides on me in me.” (Jacques Derrida, The Politics of Friendship, London/New York, 2005, p. 68)
Using friendship or even love as a model, Derrida smuggles in a radical form of ‘voluntary servitude’ or unrelenting obedience to the ‘other in me’ under the guise/cloak of the ‘decision’.  The ‘warmth’ of love (though not sex) – its ancient reputation of having the nature of turning the lover into what he loves – softens Derrida’s defence of absolute obedience to the norm i.e. law.  ‘I’ do not obey the law; ‘I’ become the law, which obeys itself in me.  Oddly, this is also a model of absolute thus solipsistic dictatorship.
Although he is reflecting Schmitt’s friend/enemy distinction as the origin of ‘the political’ and ‘sovereignty’ – the ‘self-asserted’ obedience at work in the ‘passive decision’ is closest to Heidegger’s Auftrag (mission) of the “Rektoratsrede” – the ‘passive decision’ of the other in me is comparable to Being (equals History/Fate) giving of itself in me to itself as the ubiquitous or absolute other in me.  Such a non-decision undermines Schmitt’s more ‘classic’ (juridical) notion of sovereignty. 
(Although how exactly Derrida’s theories of radical and absolute alterity sit inside Heidegger’s “Being-With” (Mitsein) which allows for no kind of alterity – is still something of a trade secret.)

The subject is only the passive (inert) terrain where these ‘gift’ transactions or transfusions of Being with itself take place.

Like Heidegger, Derrida attempts to present absolute submissiveness (to the norm) or loss of self as some sort of higher form of rebellion:  “Absolutely singular in principle, according to its most traditional concept, the decision is not only always exceptional, it makes an exception for/of me.  In me.  I decide, I make up my mind in all sovereignty – this would mean: the other than myself, the me as other and other than myself, he makes or I make an exception of the same.  This normal exception, the supposed norm of all decision, exonerates from no responsibility.  Responsible for myself before the other, I am first of all and also responsible for the other before the other.  This heteronomy, which is undoubtedly rebellious against the decisionist conception of sovereignty or of the exception (Schmitt), does not contradict it; it opens autonomy on to itself, (…).  It matches the decision to the gift, if there is one, as the other’s gift.” (The Politics of Friendship, ibid., pp. 68-69)  The ‘gift’ in any case is only Being’s gift to itself in me qua other.   

Obedience is a form of hypnosis.  The university gathers this transcendent forcing (forcage) in itself as its self-asserted dwelling.  

At this very moment of the public ‘suturing’ of Heidegger’s “fundamental ontology” to Nazism in the “Rektoratsrede” – Heidegger asks at the beginning of his speech if Dasein is ready to bear the stamp of the German fate?  Or even more tenuous – does the essence of the German university have the “strength to stamp our being (Dasein)”?  He is not in doubt – but only if the “body of student and teachers” truly will this essence.  Dasein requires a supplement of sorts – the true willing of an essence outside of Dasein – in the German university.  But why does he pose such a question?  And then presume to answer it?  Is it because Dasein is actually not an entity infused ‘naturally’ with the impulses of ‘struggle’, will or power? Is Heidegger summoning Dasein in his words, magically calling it to be prepared for its ‘spiritual mission’?

But Dasein is mutating in keeping with the greatness of the beginning or “Aufbruch” Heidegger seeks to manifest, expose (enact) and create in his Rektoratsrede.  Significantly Lacoue-Labarthe sees this ‘beginning’ also as the moment in which the fundamental ontology ‘collapses’ and fails. (“Transcendence Ends in Politics”, ibid., p. 297)  But this inaugural speech taking place in the first year of the Nazi reign is especially precious for Heidegger – because it is a ‘beginning’.  The beginnings are always with us he says in Beiträge zur Philosophie (Vom Ereignis).  More than endings?  In the Rektoratsrede Heidegger asserts a most vehement beginning not just for the university and its bodies – but for Dasein überhaupt.  “Only if we again place ourselves under the power of the beginning of our spiritual-historical being (Dasein).” (“The Self-Assertion of the German University”, ibid. p.  471)  In keeping with Heidegger’s idiosyncratic and absurd identification of the German people with the ancient Greeks – this beginning (Aufbruch) is not the Nazi Machtergreifung – but the bursting forth (Aufbruch) of Greek philosophy.  Emmanuel Faye speaks thus of the absolute identity in Heidegger’s ‘world’ of metaphysics (Greek philosophy) and the calendar of Nazism. 

The state, for Heidegger although ‘total’ and ‘essential’ recedes behind what really counts for him – self-assertion of Dasein.  “Das Wesentliche des Daseins ist Selbstbehauptung.” (“The essential of Dasein is self-assertion.”, Heidegger, “Hegel, On the State”, winter 1934-1935, cited in  Faye, ibid., p. 392)
Self-assertion is the mode in which the ‘polis’, the body of self-assertion protects itself – meaning the historical existence of a people, a clan, a stock.  This act of self-assertion is one of survival, self-preservation of the enclosure – “enclosing wall, house, earth, gods.”  Starting from the polis Heidegger ends irresistibly in the pre-state reproductive oikos – the greater womblike hearth of the clan.  “It is from this starting point”, he says, “that the essence of the political is to be grasped.” (Faye, ibid., p. 237)  
Metaphysics is ‘overcome’ and made real (realised) in the historical moment of the German people – in its spiritual-historical mission; though – only when it places itself under the auspices of its ‘Greek’ beginning.  The beginning is – and all there is – is the beginning.  For Heidegger in effect there is never anything but a beginning – the beginning (of Greek philosophy) and of the other uncertain beginning of the German struggle, its “danger”, its spiritual-historical essence in its State – the inauguration of the Nazi period.  As he will also say in Introduction to Metaphysics – the beginning is what is greatest.  It is also a beginning, which is waiting in the future – it has ‘invaded’ the future, ‘we’ (the German university and people) have to catch up with it – live up to its greatness.  In a backwards-looking prophetic rhetoric – Heidegger predicts a return to a beginning of the Third Reich – to a beginning, which had only just begun. And yet he compares the situation of the German university to a preparation for battle – as if the outcome were not yet known – but whatever it will be, it cannot be left to chance:  “We choose the knowing battle of those who question and profess with Carl von Clausewitz: “I take leave of the frivolous hope of salvation by the hand of accident.” (“The Self-Assertion of the German University”, ibid., p. 479)  Such calculating hubris to assume that any enterprise could succeed without the graces of Fortuna, Tyche or kairos is neither Greek nor Roman, but descends from Amalek.

In the concept of history Heidegger presents in his Rektoratsrede – the history of the historical-spiritual German Volk – the only future he envisions is the repetition of a beginning.  He can see neither a beyond nor an ‘exit strategy’ from this fateful beginning.
The beginning of Greek or western philosophy and the beginning of the Third Reich are one and the same, according to Heidegger – it is one beginning which prolongs itself incessantly.  In this extended indefinitely elastic beginning western man who is the same as German man – stands up to the “totality of what is”. 
At the very point in his speech when one would expect the eruption of vita activa – Heidegger seems to retreat adeptly not ‘under the shadow of his sword’ but into the shelter of Greek vita contemplativa qua activa.  Here as in the speech as a whole – a fungibility of philosophy and the still unnamed historical-spiritual mission is presupposed.  

Heidegger’s emphasis on the beginning in his inaugural speech – also a beginning – shows that his speech is not ‘political’ in a sense of being external to his philosophy – but that his concept of the political ‘bursting forth’ of the Nazi entity is in a strict sense determined/filtered by his philosophy.  Heidegger gives Nazism the best place in his philosophy – the place of the beginning.
Heidegger’s perspective is always the origin, the beginning – this is how he distinguished himself from Cassirer in Davos 1929 – Cassirer having the perspective of progressive liberation through symbolic forms (science, language, myth), lacked a clear ‘terminus a quo’ or starting point.  For Heidegger the starting point is the concern of his whole philosophy.
Herkunft ist Zukunft (the origin is the future).  Terminus a quo.  In the beginning is Being.
“My position is the reverse: The terminus a quo is my central problematic, the one I develop.  For me this occurs not in the whole of Philosophy of Culture, but in the question of τι το ον, or rather: what in general is called Being?” ( “Davos”, 202/GA 3, 288 cited in Vida Pavesich, “Hans Blumenberg’s Philosophical Anthropology After Heidegger and Cassirer”, Journal of the History of Philosophy, vol. 46, no. 3 (2008) 421-448), p. 423) 

Arendt rescued this idea of beginning for her general theory of action governed by her concept of ‘natality’ – every action is a birth, something begins – action gives birth to itself as action.  But a birth or beginning of what?  Only more action.  Certainly not inaction?  Such a beginning would only push itself up against a wall of itself.  What about the finish?  Jean-Luc Nancy commented in a seminar on “Sovereignty and Finitude” at Birkbeck in London in 2005, that Hitler was a ‘finish’.  Does he mean “finish” in the sense of model or type?  The model comes at the end – it is not originary.  It is not an ancestor/origin – an antediluvian beginning from which exemplars descend.  Hitler was the “finish” as a model, which in its completeness exhausts its own series of one.  The Führer-mule.  A finish in the form of an ‘un-birthing’.  For Nancy he was a ‘finish’, whereas for Heidegger he was a beginning.  Was Hitler the ‘finish’ of Heidegger’s philosophy?
Nancy is ever concerned with finitude – as opposed to beginnings …  If Hitler is a ‘finish’ – then without him something would have been missing? 
Although somewhat paradoxically - the urge or trajectory of such thought is from finitude to infinitude – the move from the economic to the ‘political’ mimics a progression or ‘opening’ of finitude to infinitude.  The political is prima philosophia in this kind of philosophy of finitude – in its being the finite vehicle of infinitude – in itself metaphysical or a ‘sensual-supernatural thing’ (sinnlich-übersinnlich), just as the commodity is for Marx.  Why does ‘the political’ enjoy such a privileged status for Nancy?  Is it not because that this is the rank Heidegger granted it in that era of ‘the beginning’? 

In his lecture course of the winter 1933-34 as the militant “Rektor-Führer” he presents “the urgent task of our era” as the restoring of politics to its proper rank in Being above all others; politics is Being, the highest – self-assertion is the mode of Dasein, but politics is the mode of Sein. “(…) teaching to see it (politics) once again as the fundamental character of the philosophizing man in history, and as that being (Sein) in which the state develops, so that it (politics) can truly be called the mode of being of a people.” (“On the Essence and Concepts of Nature, History, and State”, cited in Faye, ibid., p 117)  “Politics” (Politik) as Being (Sein) fuses, ‘gathers’ or reigns over the finitude of “philosophizing man” and the infinitude of Being qua state – but only in the becoming of the Nazi Führer-state as the mode of being (Seinsart) of the German Volk.
Hitler puts the finishing touches on Nancy’s concept of sovereignty.  To finish means to have an orgasm.  Does Nancy ‘finish’ with Hitler? “(On peut dire le sens fini, à la condition de penser que finir c’est jouir.)” [“(We can say the finite sense, on the condition of thinking that finishing is delighting.”) Jean-Luc Nancy, Corpus, New York, 2008, pp. 118-119].

But there also has to be a will to this finitude or finishing.  It is quite the opposite of deferring or deferment.  The finish is that which is contingent (free) and necessary at the same time.  Can one ‘decide’ to finish more or less than one can ‘decide’ to begin?
Without the will to finitude it would be impossible to complete any work.   The concept of finishing loses its meaning without the will to finitude.  A thing (object) cannot exist without finitude – or is there an infinite thing?  A situation which is infinite – every situation is according to Badiou – is far less than a situation which is finite.  If all possibilities are included, none are – because all possibilities include also the negation of all possibilities.  A finite number of possibilities is the precondition for any one possibility.  The artistic work is possessed by a will to finitude – to see itself completed – at the same time it is the will to deplete or defeat the artist.


Some Provisional Axioms of ‘The Political’

Axiom 1: Political Ontology since Heidegger is a Nazi science – because first in Heidegger’s Nazism being and the (thought of the) political have become one.
Axiom 1a: Political Ontology is the situation (site) of the fusion of Sein (Being) und Politik (politics); where Nazi Sein and the political are joined.
Axiom 1b: Political Ontology is not a teaching.  It is an action of Being.
Axiom 1c:  Since Heidegger Political Ontology is Nazism’s mask, surrogate (straw man) and discreet account for the forbidden (as in a Swiss bank) – because since Heidegger Politics and Being (Metaphysics) are One.
Axiom 1d: In Political Ontology Nazism hides in the open.
Axiom 1e: In Political Ontology Nazism is always ready-to-hand (even when it is broken).
Axiom 1f: Political Ontology is Nazism’s readiness-to-hand.
Axiom 1g:  In Political Ontology (the category of political being) Nazism is indifferent to itself, disinterested in itself.  Its relation to itself is adiaphoric.


Dasein of Mass

Axiom 2:  In Heidegger’s ontology the mass mistakes/misjudges (verkennt) itself as chosen originary Dasein – that asserts its value/validity prior to any thought.   
Axiom 2a: The mass engages in a self-deluding critique of ‘massification’ – each time it succumbs to the hollowness of “mine”.  It splits itself off from itself as mass to be ‘reborn’ as Dasein/Sein/Existenz – where it seeks refuge from itself.  Greater than the hollowness of “mine” is the hollowness of “ours”.
Axiom 2.a.1.  The massness of Heidegger is reflected in the semblance of indispensability crowning his philosophy as if with a halo – its popularity is the circumscribed mass itself, applauding itself within its limits.
Axiom 2.a.2  The secret (Heidegger) is to speak of the mass without ever naming it – Jemeinigkeit (“In Each Case Mine”). 
Axiom 2b:  Dasein is the annihilated/maimed subject metamorphosed into its generic deformation.  Thus for Badiou the generic and his theory of the subject are so tightly allied to his ontology.  Here he continues the Heidegger program.  Dasein or the generic is a particle bereft of force.  How should the congregation of these voided particles in the mass engender a new force (multitude)?  Homo sacer is the legalist-biologistic template of the same voided construct Dasein – so-called ‘nullity’.     
Axiom 2c:  Ontology is the return of idealism, of identity philosophy under the guise of a hypostatized generic existence, of the reified singular.
Axiom 3:  Any system based on an average or norm can hardly be said to be dynamic – it constantly aims to rest at a plateau – the average or norm.  Its irresistible striving is to move from unrest to rest – more a dialectic of stagnation than a dynamic tendency.
Axiom 4:  The essence of hope is not hopeful in the sense of Heidegger’s assertion about technology – its essence is not technological.  One could extend this formula indefinitely.  All it indicates is that a thing or its quiddity, its essence cannot be a linguistic property of itself.
Although a contrary view is that of Novalis, who says, the performance of mathematics must be mathematical.  If not – a dubious hiatus arises between form and content.


Friday, 4 May 2012

Self-Assertion of an English Garden (After-Life Topoi of Nazi Desire) Chapter 6.3.


1.     Il faut cultiver notre jardin   
2.     Pêcheurs de lune
3.     Iterability of the Nazi State (Economy of Genocide)
4.     Growth (and Form/Morphe)
5.     Decay
6.     Pompes Funèbres
6.1.  Type (Model, Example, Tupos)
6.2.  Usus Tyrannus (Interlude)
6.3.  The Ageing of a Note
7.      Critique of Beginnings
8.      Demonology of Defeat 



 
6.      Pompes Funèbres

6.3.   The Ageing of a Note

31st December 1990 “At the end of the year I am feeling confused and not yet ready to let the year go.  Am I caught in the claws of the German like Ganymede?  Do I squander my whole energy and urge to empathize with alien life, my ‘temptation to love the malformed’ on them, the Germans?  Why?  What are they to me?  The dissection of them and their crimes will never erase them.  Obsession is hard work and I shun any sort of work.  There is no more senseless work around.  I wish someone would liberate me from this tyrannical habit.  I would much rather write novels about ancient Athens or a history of Montezuma than about Germans.  Every Australian murderer and pickpocket is more fascinating, or even about Cornish beach smugglers and wreckers, without memory, without history.”  


 


Simplification

Like a model, the ‘good’ example must be typical, representative of the ‘set’ of phenomena – it must be itself and ‘typical’ or representative at the same time.  Mussolini is an example of the fascist dictator and he was one as well.  All of his characteristics function as a model or are ‘equal’ to the model – they are a ‘Vorbild’ or template for anyone aspiring to that office.  He is as such a sort of Realabstraktion of himself.  His person became a canon for all subsequent fascist dictators.  He is the original and the generic type at the same time.
In Badiou’s schema – Mussolini would have been or is (in the eternity of fidelity to the event) the subject of a truth procedure – under the condition of politics.

Is fascism equally original and generic – how does one construe (determine) generic fascism? Is that a simplification?
Generic fascism has become a commonplace denotation of fascism in the more recent studies associating it with palingenetic movements for and against modernity (See David D. Roberts, The Totalitarian Experiment in Twentieth-Century Europe, New York, 2006).  Besides generic fascism, Roberts mentions generic Führer-principle, generic vision of national redemption, generic modern tendency and as a variation original and classic fascism.  Oddly there is no generic communism – although he practises the usual conflation of communism and fascism as generic totalitarianism.  Is fascism the generic ‘forbidden’?
‘Generic fascism’ is the elevation of the ‘commonplace’ to the level of myth.  Should there not also be a generic Nazism?

Simplification is a kind of primitive mathematical or computational model.  Reality is not simple, thus to be able to ‘think’ it, one must construct models which leave out all the deviations and exceptions, what Adorno refers to as those ‘conceptless micrologies’ of the Particular, in which the General likes to hide.  Simple is not just ‘easy’ – an abstraction of the simple kind can be very elaborate, such as Badiou’s applications of set theory.  Simple refers to the tacit assumption that reality is pre-constructed, pre-existing, an anterior unchanging foil to the instruments used to capture it – such as set theory mathematics.

By declaring the identity of mathematics and ontology Badiou would suggest they are simultaneous both in the sense of a continuum or succession in space and in an ideal temporal progress even in a world where temporality is suspended.  But set theory itself is historical and mortal – having been discovered, constructed by mathematicians in the 20th century.  How is it possible that ontology had to wait so long to find its perfect match?  He calls mathematics a thinking independent of conscious experience, but a thinking all the same.  Thinking is itself a conscious act – posterior to being, ontology.  

  
Simplification or Primitive Models are low forms (breeds) of metaphysics – they suggest a general or universal illusory type to which all empirical data is related.  Badiou’s ubiquitous term ‘generic’ means exactly the type as the union of the Particular and the General or rather the identity of both.  A simplification is a simple kind of abstraction – all formalisations are of the nature of simplification.  If the simplification or formalisation has nothing of the more complex nature of the higher form, it is worthless – if it is equally complex then it is no simplification.  One cannot prove a simplification – it must have some or enough easily recognizable characteristics of the original to remind you of what it is simplifying – like the plot of a story. The major ‘ontological’ characteristics of mathematics, those which it shares with reality or ontology are for Badiou the Void and Infinity. 
An example is a naturally occurring simplification – it represents the whole of a body of phenomena.  That is why it is an example.  In a sense, Badiou’s “mathematics=ontology” turns mathematics into an example of ontology, but an example identical, equal with the whole - like the legendary map which contains everything of which it is a map on a scale of one to one.  Mathematics is the instrument, the thinking-thing merging totally with that which it thinks – ontology – with no remainder.

The value (intensity) of the example or “exemplary consciousness” (Adorno) is itself a historical effect.  Adorno traces it to Husserl and the claim of phenomenology to be directly and ‘objectively’ descriptive and not reflective in its “research” of “examples” or phenomena.  Heidegger has inherited his pretence that Being is not a concept, lies prior to all thought, is both immediate and ‘originary’ (ursprünglich), from the non-reflective ‘objectivity’ of the phenomenological school and its
“Wesenschau” (intuition of essences). (See Adorno, Negative Dialektik, ibid. pp. 90 ff.)
Wittgenstein’s ‘method’ in the Philosophical Investigations purports to proceed by the presenting of ‘examples’ – these examples have the status of rules.  An example has the virtue of fusing the quasi-empirical – the example as singular case – and the generality of which it is an example.  Any exemplary proof regime implicitly locates the general in the singular case, thus ultimately equating the two.

Such examples lose their immediacy when they serve as primary evidence for the “species”; a particular way of looking which is simultaneously the forming of a judgement turns the object of such “Wesenschau” into not just an element or representative of the species – but into the idea of the species itself.  The phenomenological gaze has an objective foundation beyond the individual author of the judgement – the mode of contemplation is itself grounded in the “collective life of the spirit objectively defined according to its immanent laws.” (Adorno, Negative Dialektik, ibid. p.89)  Phenomenological research or investigation “hypostatizes” its method, its “insight” as later Heidegger hypostatizes Being itself.  In this way Hegel’s sentence – “das Besondere sei das Allgemeine” (“the particular is the general”) is revived, rescued in “Wesenschau”, without the intermediary of a reflective subject.  The functioning of such a figure as Mussolini as himself and the perfection of the species of fascist dictator is a result of the rise of such phenomenological exemplary consciousness.  One can recognize the skeleton of Badiou’s “generic” in this genealogy. Every member of the species is a phantom representative of every other member and thus of the whole species (set) itself.  This is the way a species or series coalesces in its own idea.  In other words, every member of the series or species haunts every other member – and the first of a series anticipates the complete series even if it does not yet exist.  As Adorno writes in “Über den Fetischcharakter in der Musik und die Regression des Hörens” – all tones are contained in the first – heard in advance – “(…) Die im jüngsten Sinn perfekte makellose Aufführung konserviert das Werk um den Preis seiner definitiven Verdinglichung.  Sie führt es als ein mit der ersten Note bereits fertiges vor: die Aufführung klingt wie ihre eigene Grammophonplatte.” [Zeitschrift für Sozialforschung, Herausgegeben im Auftrag des Instituts für Sozialforschung von Max Horkheimer, Jahrgang VII, 1938, Heft 3, p.337: “Perfect, immaculate performance in the latest style preserves the work at the price of its definitive reification.  It presents it as already complete from the very first note.  The performance sounds like its own phonograph record.”, “On the Fetish Character of Music and the Regression of Listening”, in The Culture Industry, London/New York, 1991, p. 44] 

In this sense, all repetitions of the work are also contained in the first note.


Shoyn Fargessn

Does the moment repeat itself – or is only the repetition repeatable?  Or is the moment without recollection – a moment thus not of knowledge or knowing but of belief or unconscious existence – Dasein.  What sort of life is in the moment – what life is the repetition?  Besides life is mercifully also forgetting – not just remembering.  Perhaps there is even more forgetting than remembering in life.  Greek wisdom honoured recollection because the ordinary condition was one of forgetting.  What is the repetition of forgetting?

[Commentary:  Badiou proposes a ‘forget the forgetting of the forgetting’ modelled on Heidegger’s “Seinsvergessenheit” (forgetting of being) to disencumber philosophy of its own history and historicism itself.  The repetition of forgetting transfers forgetting to a higher order?  (See, “The Return of Philosophy Itself”, Conditions, ibid., p.5)  Oddly Cohn-Bendit has published a book of interviews called Forget ‘68 – a forgetting of history, a kind of self-revisionism.  Should one remember something else instead?
But since forgetting is the natural order (of things) – why bother to command it?  Who would have remembered had they not told you to forget?  As they say in Yiddish – shoyn fargessn.
Although Badiou would certainly not want to forget ’68 – he constructs his whole French political consciousness, his “metapolitics” precisely around this episode.  Should one perhaps finally heed Baudrillard’s apothegm “Forget Foucault” (Oublier Foucault)?]


Repetition is Haunting without Ghosts

Not just the dead haunt us – the ghosts – every other is a potential ghost, haunter of our thoughts – also known as memory – but the form the other has for us is that of a ghost – and the inherent action of ghosts is haunting.  This is something, which takes place in the present.  Haunting based on absence either in space or in time is itself a presence – the ghostly presence.
The past cannot project itself retrospectively without inhabiting as if by natural right or law the bodies of the contemporary.  In this regard, haunting is closely related to possession, vampirism and other forms of supernatural parasitism.  Is ‘Haunting’ the ‘ontological need’?
Is even love a species of haunting? – surely the most powerful haunting an Other is capable of is when a bond of love has been forged.  Love is the emotion, which does not allow one to forget the Other even for an instant – or if one does it is as if one has slipped out of the life of love into another estranged one.  This is how one is supposed to remember Krishna.  Not forgetting actually makes memory unnecessary – or it is a simultaneous sort of memory – no time needs to elapse before memory of the present – the impossibility of forgetting – completely fills the mind.

Repetitive structures are also haunting structures.  Or rather haunting structures are repetitive – like the series – each member haunting all other members of the series (set) – particularly when they are identical (generic).  When repetitive structures in one series haunt repetitive non-identical structures in another series… 
The more immanent, secret, hidden affinity between Badiou and Derrida – in the aspect of their implicit ‘philosophy of history’ or even their idea of historical time – is hauntology.  Hauntology, in which the past inhabits, haunts the present – or as I would say – the present haunts the present (as the spectacle or as amour fou) – is translated in Badiou’s thinking into the backward looking “fidelity to the event” – the act of fidelity to the event presupposes this power of haunting.  The “quality” of the past that it can manifest itself beyond its own ‘evental site’ – to project into the future (retrospectively departing from the present) forcing itself upon the present in the form of fidelity to the event. 
The “indiscernible” of the situation – that which is presented but not represented (?) is another trace of haunting – the notion of the trace itself to which Badiou often refers.  In the “fidelity to the event” the contemporary haunts itself by dividing itself between its contemporary embodiment (body) and its devout impersonation of the past (truth-body).  When we remember the dead we are engaged in a kind of “fidelity to the event” – we do not so much choose to remember the dead and by way of remembering them to love them in the most non-self or selfless way, the dead impose themselves on us in a most natural fashion and this imposition is what we call haunting.  We cannot escape the love of the dead ancestor.  
The religious impulse inscribing even the most primitive of religions invests this human reflex for all manner of worship of ancestors and other prominent antecedents with its desired symbolism.
 A vestige of ancestral worship lingers in Badiou’s definition of the trace: “(…) a truth presupposes an organically closed set of material traces, traces that refer not to the empirical uses of a world, but to a frontal change.  A change that has affected at least one object of this world.  We could say that the trace presupposes that every truth is the trace of an event.” (Alain Badiou, Bodies, Languages, Truths, 2006 online)  The event is the dead ancestor we worship in our “fidelity to the event” – thus prolonging, sustaining the reign of the dead.

Haunting implies what Adorno calls “das permanente Zurück” (“the permanent turning back”, Adorno, Negative Dialektik, ibid., p.70) – fidelity to the event, endlessly open but only in the direction of the past, possible or potential only as repetition. (“Daher die geistige Verhaltensweise des permanenten Zurück zu.”: “Thus the spiritual behaviour of the permanent return to.”, ibid.)  This spiritual behaviour belongs to the characteristics of “the ontological need” –that syndrome (related to the “jargon of authenticity”) Adorno discovered in the Heideggerian ontologies of yesteryear -  Badiou’s precursors?

Is “permanent return” not exactly how Badiou sees philosophy in his brief definition of it – as an eternal return in his sense of Nietzsche? 
“The philosophical seizing of truths exposes them to eternity; with Nietzsche we might say that it exposes them to the eternity of their return.” (Alain Badiou, “Definition of Philosophy” in Conditions, ibid., p. 24)  One might also say, Badiou’s philosophy is an immanent proof of the return – for him truth of philosophy is an eternal return and his philosophy itself is a ‘return’ to an “ontological renaissance” of a previous era, like his, mounted on Heidegger and the resurrected metaphysics of Being – “Heidegger envisagé comme lieu commun” (“Heidegger envisaged as a common place”, Manifeste pour la philosophie, Éditions du Seuil, 1989). 
For Badiou the ‘continual contemporaneousness’ of philosophy is not of an empirical today – but “the always of time”, “the intemporal essence of time” of Plato.  So when Badiou says either today or history – he means in both cases eternity – sub specie aeternitatis.  ‘Today’ in eternity is always the same day.  

Haunting definitely belongs to the dominion of the past – or how would the future haunt us?  What is past is not new – it is old.  Youth is opposed to haunting – although under certain circumstances – even youth if it is corrupted enough – can also be haunted.  Such a haunting of youth is told in Henry James’s Turn of the Screw.  The dead valet Peter Quint comes back to pick up his still living charge Miles – because some ineffable debt had been incurred.  The boy had been left in pawn.  Haunting though is not mathematical – the process of equating knowns and unknowns.  Haunting is the equating of knowns with knowns.  The first procedure is fluid – the second rigid.


Not Every Repetition is Musical

How much has to repeat itself for a structure to be a repetition?  How much has to not repeat itself for a structure to be different than the first, not a repetition even if not something new?   The difference between things, which are false, and things, which could be true.  This sort of situation is not a potentiality in the sense of a surplus projected towards an indefinite future – but in the judging of the past.  “There’s some truth in it”, my grandfather Solomon Zachari Semonovitch Kinsbursky confided to me about Freud’s conjecture that Moses was not a Jew.  What Moses was is not a potential variable – but the estimation of his historical identity can vary in accordance with new ways of ascertaining the historical evidence.  All prefiguration ideologies of history (Christianity) in which the future is the determinant of the past also dispense with potentiality.

Repetition is only what happens after the first time – otherwise it would not be repetition.  Decay, entropy, ageing are only related to repetition (if not identical with it), not to the original phenomenon or event and all its constituents.




 
‘Philosophy for the Others’

“Pour moi, quand j’ai désiré d’apprendre, c’était pour savoir moi-même et non pas pour enseigner; (…) toutes les études que j’ai tâché de faire en ma vie au milieu des hommes, il n’y en a guère que je n’eusse faites également seul sans une île déserte (…)”(“For me, when I desired to learn, it was to know for myself and not to teach; (…) all the studies I endeavoured to do in my life amongst people, it would not be much to say that I could have equally done so alone on a deserted island (…)”, Jean Jacques Rousseau, Les Rêveries du Promeneur Solitaire, Troisième Promenade)

Some philosophies are pleas for disciples; some are devised to make it impossible to become a disciple.  Heraclitus in his self-banishment eschewed followers.  The propagators of wisdom and knowledge of many fields, the Pythagoreans, he considered swindlers – and Pythagoras (behind the veil) as the greatest swindler of them all.  Is the cult of Pythagoras a swindle for us as it was for Heraclitus?  Socrates’ philosophy was both against disciples and for them.  He became his own disciple and broke away from himself. (Borges and I)  To have disciples is to be forced by their most ardent fidelity never to abandon a stance, which has aroused their fidelity in the first place.  Fidelity forces you to be as your disciples first saw you – to vary the doctrine first understood by them only in the most minimal of fashions.  The first doctrine is the one, which attracted their fidelity, the one they understand and remember so that it can be repeated to others who join the ranks of disciples.  That is called teaching and learning, transmission of fidelity.  Disciples are by nature conservative.  This makes them highly prone to betrayal of their masters.  It is not so much due to venality as an innate love of established order. 

Socrates’ teaching was a method of becoming ignorant of certainties.  What he despises most in his interlocutors is their certitude in what they profess to know.  If there is certainty, says Socrates, there can only be error and inexactitude.  The more certain the claim, the further it is from the truth.  Conversely in reducing certainties to uncertainties Socrates moves infinitesimally towards the unknowable truth. 

Who is more Socratic?  Badiou who declares Plato and Althusser as his masters, or Wittgenstein who discarded and undermined the certainties of his master Russell?  Who is more revolutionary?  Is being Socratic a virtue?  Socrates himself had no master.  Kierkegaard boasted of going beyond Socrates, although like him in so many ways, but unlike him in his new sort of ignorance:  the ignorance of the human in the face of the God-teacher who is both human and God.  Is it enough to say teacher to imply one is a pupil?  The new sort of incommensurability, which came into the world with this man-God teacher, is given the name paradox.  Instead of error and exactitude as parameter of truth, one must be concerned with sin, consciousness of sin and sin-transcending belief.  A Socratic paradox would be believing to disbelieve.  Disciples, masters and pupils are essential figures/types of the ‘bad class’.

The question of the disciples:  Is the fidelity of a disciple like the fidelity to the event?  What is the relation between master and disciple?  Is it the ‘scene of two’ – in other words love.  Is this love a truth process – the essential one of philosophy?  What about seduction or ‘corruption of youth’ (Socrates’ crime) – the other truth process?  The difference between a pupil and a disciple – the permanence of the disciple. Pupils come and go.  Only certain pupils can become disciples.  They stay.  A disciple ages with his master.  Master-disciple is a disguised master-slave relation – the habits of slavery seep into the aristocratic sphere of education, pedagogy (like the institution of fagging in English boarding schools).   Führer and Gefolgschaft (followers).  The escaped disciple who breaks with his master in the Chassidic tradition fulfils his disciplehood.  He is comparable to the runaway slave – “a rebel, only now am I loyal.” (Celan) 

A variation of the master-disciple relation – the ménage à trois between Jean-Luc Nancy, Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe and Jacques Derrida.  Nancy and Lacoue-Labarthe are the Rosencrantz and Guildenstern of contemporary French philosophy.   They form with Derrida a golden pyramid or triangle of mutual masterhood and disciplehood.  But Derrida was no Hamlet despite his undecidability.  He was more of a Claudius-machine.  Claudius was the consummate Baroque statesman-intriguant, the perfect mask of legitimacy, “our sovereign process” – arch conspirator and usurper, a brother.  Although beset by raging affects like any Baroque courtier, better than most at concealing them.  Almost a Renaissance figure, Claudius possesses more sprezzatura than the others.  He is far more interesting than Hamlet – who appears almost oafish by comparison.  Finally, Claudius has to initiate the endgame-conspiracy more or less on Hamlet’s behalf.  Claudius sets the Selbsthenker (self-executioner) machine into motion – which destroys the court, the state and Hamlet.  Despite his excesses and scheming, Hamlet is just a cog in King Claudius’ machine. Since murdering his brother, Hamlet’s father, and wedding Hamlet’s mother (the pre-history of the play), Claudius is the only real ‘actor’ in the play. He remains the author of the play’s intrigues from beginning to end.  Hamlet never ‘decides’ not due to some innate weakness of character – but because the ‘machine’ has already decided for him.  Strictly speaking, Hamlet is the character of no character.  Who is the Hamlet of philosophy today?  
   
For Socrates a truth procedure aims to produce ignorance, because it can never be false when someone says he does not know or does not know for sure.  Or at least, it is less likely to be false.  The infinite moment in Socrates’ truth procedure is just after having established ignorance where others were certain there was knowledge or truth, when others (his interlocutors) and not just Socrates must go on with their inquiries – seeking what they do not know forever.  On the other hand, what they know, they have always known, but forgotten.  Their innate knowledge or truth has always been in their soul.  But the soul is not really theirs – it has previously been circulating amongst other mortal bodies – and what knowledge is theirs is imported into their body via the soul.  But this knowledge must be recollected.  It is not clear if the soul can lose or gain knowledge on its endless journey from body to body.

Truth is the retrieving of this presumably unchanging inborn knowledge – the truth is never new, in fact, it is very old. 
Technically, knowledge or truth is not inborn in the body – it is inborn in the soul, which circulates from body to body.  Socrates (like Swedenborg) applies the laws of motion to the soul.

One could question Socrates’ deus ex machina of the immortality of the soul – but certainly the Socratic questioning undermines any idea of truth being new.  Socrates is always eager to hear the latest gossip from his rivals the sophists, because they are his real source of newness – truth is old but error or gossip is new. 
In a Socratic ‘gesture’ – Badiou writes in The (Re)turn of Philosophy Itself (Conditions, ibid.) that philosophy needs its sophists, the “enemy brother”, especially the great ones – meaning in this century or last century – Wittgenstein.

How then, can Badiou see himself returning to Plato while at the same time declaring: “Truth is first of all something new.”?  One could again object in a Socratic fashion – as Socrates does in Meno – Badiou has not told us what truth is, but now he tells us that it is new.  New is equally undefined or indefinable.

By comparing these most diverse thinkers have I made them commensurate in some sort of quantifiable way – have I insinuated some kind of inexact mathematical judgements into my table of elements?  Have I placed them implicitly in a set?  If Wittgenstein is Badiou’s enemy – is he his mathematical enemy?
But can one determine an enemy mathematically?  Is there an enemy in mathematics?  How does one locate the mathematical enemy?

Whenever one compares largely non-quantifiable entities one must operate with a quasi-mathematical empirical spatial logic – dimensions of absence, presence, more, less, change, non-change, near, far, here, beyond, after.  New would appear to escape quantifiability – but only without relating it to oldness.   New in the sense of never having been present until this moment is also inextricably connected to measurement of time or increments of time.  New must also mean ‘the first’ otherwise it would not be new – so it is always assigned this number.  The New has a claim on being the ‘First’.  The ‘first love’ though is not the New – love is not new.  The second time of the New is not the second it is merely another ‘one’.  Incommensurability is a negative mathematical term – implying the failure to measure or a failed measurement because quantities alias things or matters have no common basis for measurement.  The mere existence of incommensurability suggests a host of phenomena not touched by quantification or mathematics.  Incommensurability is a scandal for commensurability.  How does one determine commensurability?
Is there a new ignorance (or new sort of ignorance)?  Does Ignorance, being so often espoused by Socrates have a place in Plato’s realm of unchanging realities, the intellectual truths of his Ideas?  Platonic is an appellation which comes after Plato – for him his ideas were just ideas.  Is “New “ something, which Plato could think?  How would the New rank amongst the Unchanging Ideas?  An unchanging new?  Badiou must have extracted his idea of Novelty, which is closely related in his system to the Revolutionary from some other source than from Plato (probably from Hegel; Hegel incorporated the French Revolution directly into his concept of the Weltgeist).  Or from Baudelaire?  “(…) Au fond de l’inconnu pour trouver du nouveau!”
(“(…) To the bottom of the unknown to find the new!” Le Voyage)
The New must be related to the accident – as it cannot be something entirely foreseeable – otherwise it would not be new.  When does the new cease being new – is there a specific measurable point upon the unending scale of  ‘fidelity to the event’? (Nothing new under the sun.) 

In his way of reasoning Badiou is more like Meno than Socrates.  Meno is a gentleman used to ruling and commanding.  He has learned his arguments from Gorgias and attempts to repeat them to Socrates.  Meno desires to know of Socrates if virtue can be taught.  Socrates wants Meno to first tell him what virtue is.  Instead of telling him about virtue, Meno gives him a list or ‘swarm’ of parts of virtue, none of which stands up under Socrates’ questioning.  Similarly, Badiou asks what truth is, partitions it into an arbitrary quartet of truth discourses – sometimes collapsing the one into the other.  He declares them commensurable (“compossible”) – per axiom.  The four discourses are art, love, politics and science.  They obviously reflect the personal interests of the philosopher himself – at least the ones to which he ‘confesses’.  Just as Heidegger or Kierkegaard confess in their philosophies to their personal obsession with fear and anxiety (dread).   Badiou is a more robust nature – he correlates only positive ‘affects’ with these four truth procedures - for politics – enthusiasm, for arts – pleasure, for love – happiness, for sciences – joy.  Of course all of these ‘conditions’ can turn sour each in its own way – as a result of a historical ‘occultation’ following what Badiou calls “denial”.  But these deteriorated circumstances do not correspond to any other affects.  They are merely corruptions of the ideal of each respective truth procedure.

Love is a highly personal matter – but general as well, especially since its ‘symptoms’ seem to be the same for everyone.  Badiou does not usually speak of a particular love, for instance of Heloise and Abelard, Tristan and Isolde, etc. but he speaks of particular world historical events such as the French Revolution, or art events such as the Tragedy of Aeschylus or the discoveries of Galileo as an example of a scientific event (more or less synonymous with truth procedure – trial by history).  Love one might assume is the non-historical ‘generic’ truth procedure– whereas politics, science and art are inseparable from historical circumstances and a specific individual or collective producer. 

 
[Commentary: Badiou does present at least one very distinctive example of the resemblance of an amorous encounter and a political historical event in Logics of Worlds – that of the romance of Julie and Saint-Preux in Rousseau’s Julie, ou la nouvelle Héloïse and the Paris Commune – the uprising of 1871.  What the two ‘events’ have in common is the preponderance of the imaginary, the brevity of the immediate action, ending in failure, death and hopelessness, and the long posterity in the memory (a quasi-imaginary) of the participants, - in the case of the Commune in the revolutionary tradition.  But is this comparison really to be understood as between ontological grades of existence, logics of ontological sites?  Although a failure and mercilessly suppressed, the Commune was an encyclopaedia of revolt for Lenin, the October Revolution and the whole Communist International.  It has the status/posterity of the martyr-precursor in history.  Badiou though forces commensurability between this unsuccessful revolution and the “thwarted affair” of Julie and Saint-Preux in fiction; – Rousseau’s la nouvelle Héloïse is a typical romance of frustrated love between the classes – a bourgeois scholar (a ‘commoner’) versus a member of the gentry (the ‘wise cold Colmar’) to whom the aristocratic Julie was wed by command of her father.  The ontological equation Badiou undertakes is one between a fictional domestic love affair within the bourgeois-aristocratic class and an intermediate figure (the philosophy tutor Saint-Preux – similar to Julien Sorel in Stendhal’s The Red and the Black) and a mass insurrection of the working class.  How are they remotely comparable or “compossible”?  One event is historical, real – with tens of thousands of participants executed (the martyrs) – the other is a fiction in a rather dated novel of mores and social barriers between lovers, one of whom, Julie, dies.  How can the suffering of two individuals because of frustrated passion, “sublime renunciation” (“impossible love” in a novel) be the same sort of ‘ontological site’ as the revolutionary uprising of a population – be inscribed by the same mechanisms?  Both novel and the historical-political event are seen as elements of a ‘logic of appearing’ (being-there) – whereas not ‘the novel’ as an event, but an episode involving certain characters – the types needed by metaphysics.  Jacques le fataliste et son maître, a fiction from the same time by Diderot also shows love and betrayal between the classes (aristocratic ex-lovers and a mother and her daughter turned prostitute from the bourgeoisie déclassé) as a tragic farce of the death of love, misled passion, deception and revenge. (The story formed the base for Robert Bresson’s and Jean Cocteau’s film Les Dames de Bois de Boulogne.)  Why is this not an event – or comparable/compossible with the Paris Commune?  If following Lenin – revolution is war – the only ‘just war’ – an act of absolute hostility – the logic (of appearing) which equates the amorous encounter of the fictional couple Saint-Preux and Julie (their ‘mental affair’) and the Paris Commune – must imply that their tender passion was really the semblance of deep enmity.  The ‘posterity’ of the fictional pair of lovers belongs to Rousseau – the puppet master of these marionettes.  They are figures in his marionette-theatre.  Perhaps Badiou is inclined to relate the ‘mystical’ unfulfilled passion (torrid renunciation) in fiction with the ‘absolute hostility’ of an insurrection ending in the massacre of the insurrectionaries – because of his transcendent Ur-concept of “fidelity” – derived as he admits from the paradigm of love.  But here one is again confused by the seeming retraction of his ironclad axioms on love – love is absolute disjunction (sexual non-rapport); there is no union between the position of the man and the position of the woman; on the contrary – “An objection against the fusional conception of love.  Love is not that which from a Two taken as structurally given creates a One of ecstasy. (…) – in my categories, I call this a figure of disaster, as it is related to the generic amorous procedure.  The disaster here is not even a disaster of love; it harks to a philosopheme, the philosopheme of the One.” (Alain Badiou, “What is Love?”, Conditions, ibid., p. 181; see also “The Scene of Two”, Lacanian Ink 21, online))
And yet, is it not precisely the One of love which Saint-Preux and Julie exemplify (with Badiou’s complete approval): “(…) this possibility (‘of a life in love’ sm) enacts the irreversible destruction of (…) a widespread and socially legitimate prejudice: the prejudice according to which two individuals are necessarily each other than the other, so that one can and must distinguish between the one and the other, between ‘you’ and ‘me’.  Having enacted, in the event of passion-love, the over-existence of sexed in-difference, Saint-Preux objects to this prejudice, in words valid for all time: ‘two lovers love one another? No, “you” and “me” are words banished by their tongue; they are no longer two, they are one’.” (Alain Badiou, Logics of Worlds, translated by Alberto Toscano, London/New York, 2009, p. 380)  Would that mean then, that lovers, in Badiou’s “generic amorous procedure”, are not two but only one ‘subject of truth’…  Is the love of Saint-Preux and Julie such an ‘exceptional’ case for Badiou - allowed to be a One not a multiple; its momentousness, on a par with the Paris Commune, because somewhere in the dark romantic past of the philosophy tutor Badiou there was also a beautiful aristocratic ‘Julie’?  (But is Badiou not more a Dr. Pangloss than a Saint- Preux - especially for his “ex-disciple” Mehdi Belhaj Kacem?)]

Love, science and politics are related according to Badiou in another way – they all have attributes similar or comparable to totalitarianism or despotism.  This is Badiou’s favourite metaphor.  The truth of these discourses is closest to absolute power.  For love ‘it is the romantic problem of absolute love’; in politics ‘it’s the political problem of totalitarianism’ and science once again is compared with totalitarianism because in science ‘there is always a desire for the omnipotence of truth’. (Alain Badiou, “On the Truth-Process”, August 2002, European Graduate School, Saas-Fee, Switzerland, online) 

Why then does he so object to Wittgenstein or to Wittgenstein’s pursuit of holiness – this being so eminently totalitarian in its structure?  Or to Wittgenstein’s understanding of orders, rules – the question of absolute obedience?  Does not Badiou himself occupy the position of the “modern sophist” – the one he has reserved for the “great Wittgenstein”, “our Gorgias” or at least to an equal degree – with his notion of truth plunging toward/orbiting about the planet of ‘absolute power’, of ‘totalitarianism’?  “The modern sophist seeks to contrast the force of the rule, (…) with the revelation or the production of the true.” (Alain Badiou, Conditions, ibid., p. 7)  Truth for Badiou is always a “forcing” of bits or elements of knowledge into truth – but ultimately this forcing is a “naming” – an act within and of language (conventional speech) limited/restrained only by what is “unnameable” (silence) – “(…) the action of forcing to give a name to all the terms of the situation.” (Alain Badiou, “On the Truth-Process”, ibid.)
So even there Badiou’s truth returns to the “modalities of language authority” (ibid.), which he attributes to the modern sophist (Wittgenstein) through the backdoor.
And yet – following his own sophistic rule of forcing a proposition/axiom and then its opposite into a non-contradictory “unity of thought” (so-called “compossibility”) – Badiou claims in his “provisional definition of philosophy” that it “(…) draws up a persuasive strategy that has no stakes in power.  The whole process is prescribed by the conditions that are art, science, love and politics in their evental figures.” (Conditions, ibid. p. 14)
“Der Glaube macht selig: folglich lügt er.” (“Belief is bliss: therefore it lies.”, Nietzsche, Der Antichrist, paragraph 50)

It is obvious that for Badiou there is a ‘master discourse’ amongst the four he proposes – that of politics.  If love and science are potential truth discourses it is in the manner and the measure by which they resemble a political idea of absoluteness – that of despotic rule.  One could imagine a different indispensable attribute of truth – not one of coercion but one of irresistibility (charisma, seduction).  The way in which something seems irrefutable by inciting a process of ‘auto-persuasion’ in the subject.  How could there be ‘love at first sight’ if love were a matter of an outside force?  The power, which commands love, must be of another nature than the power, which compels self-negating obedience as in a despotic system.  If love can occur as a coup de foudre it does so without precedence – it is difficult to imagine absolute power ‘at first sight’ – or totalitarianism ‘at first sight’.  (Although ‘hate at first sight’ is immensely conceivable.)  Totalitarian forms require elaborate constructions to establish their ‘omnipotence’.  The absolute states throughout history are known for their vast bureaucracies and organisations and some sort of class of propagandists such as the Egyptian priests or sycophants in ancient Greece.  In more recent times the supremacy of a Party and its Leader combines all of these functions, excluding any spontaneous expression.  Spontaneity is replaced in the volatile mode of dictatorship by direct terror.  Badiou’s model of truth, his ‘world of all’ is either despotic or amorous, but it can hardly be both.

It is interesting to compare Badiou’s four discourses with Giordano Bruno’s ‘four guides’ of hermetic philosophy.  Bruno’s supreme guide is love followed by art, mathesis and magic.  Badiou sometimes refers to the discourse of science as mathesis – certainly mathematics has the highest place in his system as the sole guarantor of being  - as ontology.  But mathesis slips into the truth discourse itself conjoined to science.  Love for Bruno is not the sexual explosion of two persons as suggested by Badiou, but it is a furor of another kind.  In love the subject is raised to the level of the divine, by divine furor – a kind of ecstasy inimical to despotism.  Art similar to love is the possibility of becoming joined to the soul of the world; mathesis is the magic use of figures (magic is religious or mystical but not in a specifically Christian sense).  Bruno’s terrain was the multiple worlds of the universe and the heart of the poet – in some way equivalent/comparable.  Badiou, although in many ways seeming to echo Bruno’s hermetic philosophy (perhaps filtered through freemasonry) introduces politics as the discourse of the discourses, an idea which would have been unthinkable in Bruno’s system of magical infiltration of the world.

“(…) Infolgedessen glaubt der Heros von sich, nicht weniger ruhmvoll durch sein Herz, die Gedanken und Tränen gekrönt zu werden, als andere durch die Hand von Königen, Herrschern und Päpsten.” (“Following that the hero believes he will not be less gloriously crowned through his heart, his thoughts and his tears than others are by the hand of kings, rulers and popes.”, Giordano Bruno, Von den heroischen Leidenschaften, Hamburg, 1989, p. 3o)
Truth for Badiou is defined with itself – truth is the omnipotence of truth in love, science, politics, art, all of which are variations of despotism or approximations of despotic rule.  One could call Badiou’s idea of truth Nietzschean (Faustian) in a vulgar sense – the will to power in all forms of human life.  But then truth would be deprived of any claim to universalism, which Badiou also asserts.  Love, science, art and politics (never defined merely assumed) are all like one another because they have the potential for the ‘omnipotence of truth’, meaning they desire it or even will it.  Truth takes over from what precedes it – untruth perhaps?  Not exactly – truth is still historical and material.  Pierre Boulez used ‘Terror’ to extract French music out of the ‘mud’ of 19th century mannerism, but these mannerisms were also once new before they became decadent.  One could not then just denounce them as original untruth.  Or is a truth which is obsolete, terrorized out of existence by a new truth?  Badiou’s truth processes imply some sort of movement from one truth to another – although the movement is not exactly historical.  At its extreme end, (a fiction of infinitude) unrestrained truth can be a disaster; it contains evil or becomes identical with evil.  Truth pursued to the extreme is evil, says Badiou, but cautiously restrained it is presumably good.  If even truth is evil when pursued or installed “without compromise”, one could conclude that, in Badiou’s judgement, the extreme is in itself evil, restraint is good under any circumstances.  Would this then be Faust without his fall, without Faust 2, the Damnation?  If art is to have a claim to the absolute power of truth, some kind of extreme must still be allowed – in Badiou’s formal scheme.  How otherwise could a new art form ‘terrorize’ an old one as in the case of Boulez?  Art is never easy for Badiou to factor into his truth processes –the absolute power of truth.  Art has at best a tenuous relation with truth.  (How does Badiou’s concept of art differ from the traditional German Goethean view – das Wahre, Schöne, Gute?) 

 
Curiously in his polemic against Wittgenstein, Badiou ‘accuses’ Wittgenstein of conceiving philosophy as an “act” – one wonders why with his own emphatic idea of the militant of truth and philosophy’s “seizing” as an act, he would object so strongly to an apparently similar idea in Wittgenstein – why would he resent Wittgenstein’s showing/exposing philosophy as a ‘form of life’ rather than a hermetic ‘teaching’?
In the paragraph cited by Badiou in the Tractatus – Wittgenstein seems to be advancing a rather innocent claim.  Philosophy, he says in 4.112, is not a teaching (Lehre) but an activity.  Badiou pounces on this sentence as if it were the corpus delicti – exposing Wittgenstein as the “anti-philosopher” – or as he refers to him in Conditions – the greatest sophist of the 20th century.  (Although Badiou already slants Wittgenstein’s meaning – translating Lehre as “theory/théorie” which it is not.)
Wittgenstein may or may not be an “anti-philosopher” – but in this paragraph he also assigns a rather anodyne role to philosophy, not just to be any ‘act’ but an activity of logical elucidation – not of just anything – but of thought and sentences.  What’s wrong with that?  Even Adorno would agree with such a ‘Kantian’ task for philosophy – “Philosophie erheischt heute wie zu Kants Zeiten Kritik der Vernunft durch diese, (…)” (“Philosophy today needs, as it did in Kant’s time, the critique of reason through itself (…)” Negative Dialektik, ibid. p. 92) 
Badiou sees Wittgenstein’s description of philosophy (it is not quite a definition) as most sinister.  Although in his own definition of philosophy – it is also an act: “Philosophy is never an interpretation of experience.  It involves the act of Truth with regard to truths.”(Alain Badiou, “Definition of Philosophy” in Conditions, ibid., p. 24)  Badiou’s act is also immediately “theatrical” – as he is a dramatist.  So that philosophy’s “seizure” (its essence) is implicitly a staging of a seizure.  His staging of truth is also “imitative” of philosophy’s conditions – it is a “fiction of knowledge”, a “fiction of art”, etc impersonating that to which it wants to come close, some species of the Real – but without any risk, being always once removed from the actual subjects of truth. 
In the seizure “in Truth” - Badiou’s dramatic gesture of philosophy – but one not productive of truth (hence within a zone of premeditated security) one is reminded of Adorno’s description of the “contemporary philosophies” of fifty years ago: “Sie (die zeitgemäßen Philosophien) fühlen sich bereits im Einklang mit der heraufdämmernden Ordnung der mächtigsten Interessen, während sie, wie Hitler, das einsame Wagnis tragieren.” (“They (the contemporary philosophies) already feel themselves in unison with the dawning order of the mightiest interests, while they, like Hitler, tragically play the role of lonely risk. (Negative Dialektik, ibid., p. 96))  Politics as philosophy’s condition of truth is not the substance of a new state or revolutionary truth etc – rather it is the modus/style of the staging of philosophy’s own so-called seizure or act of Truth.

Wittgenstein is a purist, a minimalist in philosophy – he considers philosophy’s task not to be imitative of what it is not (the poem, mathematics, politics or love) – and most certainly Badiou’s “knotting” of philosophy to science (in particular) would be loathsome for Wittgenstein.  As he writes in paragraph 4.1122 “Die Darwinsche Theorie hat mit der Philosophie nicht mehr zu schaffen als irgendeine andere Hypothese der Naturwissenschaft.” (“The Darwinist theory has no greater connection to philosophy than any other hypothesis of natural science.”, Ludwig Wittgenstein, Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus)  Or even more bluntly in 4.111 “Die Philosophie ist keine der Naturwissenschaften. (Das Wort “Philosophie” muß etwas bedeuten, was über oder unter, aber nicht neben den Naturwissenschaften steht.)” (“Philosophy is not one of the natural sciences.  (The word “Philosophy” must mean something which stands above or below, but not next to the natural sciences.)”) (ibid.)

Of course Badiou might argue – that Wittgenstein’s act (as a sophist) cannot possibly be an “act of truth” – because Wittgenstein does not acknowledge truth in the first place.
Wittgenstein has degraded philosophy in this paragraph (4.112), according to Badiou, to a “bavardage” (chatter) – in other words non-thought pretending to be thought.  One could certainly find evidence in Wittgenstein’s thinking for the view that philosophy fabricates sentences devoid of meaning or sense – thus nonsense – but in this paragraph he also assigns philosophy the task of self-critique.  Philosophy is the activity of sharpening and clarifying thought – above all – its own.  In this paragraph Wittgenstein still aspires to the dissolution of vague and blurred thinking – later in the Philosophical Investigations, when so-called ordinary language is opposed to metaphysical utterances – he is much more lenient towards vagueness – but only in ordinary language.  But is ordinary language what Badiou means by “bavardage”?  If so, then Wittgenstein would in a certain sense embrace such bavardage.
But Badiou understands the “act” (Tätigkeit) of philosophy in paragraph 4.112 already as the activity of “pseudo-theory”: “Simplement, dans l’histoire de la philosophie, cette activité se présente en général comme pseudo-théories.” (“Simply, in the history of philosophy, this activity presents itself in general as pseudo-theories.”, Alain Badiou, L’Anti-Philosophie de Wittgenstein (1993-1994), Notes d’Aimé Thiault et transcription de Francois Duvert, online, PDF, p. 8) 
Whereas, in Wittgenstein’s paragraph the “activity” of philosophy is expressly the task of clarifying thought, rather the opposite of ‘pseudo-theory’.  How and why does Badiou read so much more into or misread this paragraph?  Not only does Wittgenstein, according to Badiou, accuse philosophy of being incapable of anything but pseudo-theories, this is the point at which the evil ill-fated disastrous character (néfaste) of philosophy can be detected – in its disguising of thoughtless chatter as a theory of truth and falsehood.

Both Badiou and Wittgenstein are drawn to simplifications, the example.  Wittgenstein’s whole method rests on the providing of examples, homiletic proverbs and therapies.  This is a habit of formalized mathematical thought a relic or reflex even Wittgenstein finds hard to shed – the formulaic, the insistent distinction between truth and error, sense or nonsense.  As Badiou states in an interview published in Infinite Thought – he is nowhere concerned with “qualitative identity”.  The real existence of falsehood goes beyond such thinking, except perhaps the thinking of “its original foundational duplicity (sophist/philosopher)”. (Alain Badiou, The definition of philosophy, in: Infinite Thought, London, 2004, p.168)

Did Badiou think by denying that philosophy was a “teaching” (Lehre) – Wittgenstein was implicitly rejecting ‘school philosophy’ – Badiou’s métier?

Badiou (the philosopher) objects to Wittgenstein’s (the sophist’s) use of “rule” – or rather replacing truth with the (linguistic) rule as the product of philosophy, or what philosophy ‘seizes’ from the truth procedures.  But Badiou himself cannot do without rules or language.  Rules are immanent to mathematical systems of thought.  Language is a medium of multiplicity.
The ontological-historical state for Badiou is a “rule of counting”, which, although ‘obscenely permanent’, has no relation to truth.
Whereas for Wittgenstein all rules (in the sense of command/power and as the matrix of a contingent game) are ephemeral. 
The authoritarianism of Wittgenstein is based on passing forms of life, a natural-historical linguistic ‘community’; Badiou’s authoritarianism is based on a corrupted relic of the Hegelian absolute spirit/knowledge reified and emptied of its truth-value in the ontological-historical state.  (See Being and Event, Meditations 7,8 and 9 and “Philosophy and Politics” in Conditions, ibid. pp. 167-168)




 
Badiou versus Wittgenstein - Legal and Illegal Fictions

Infidelity is not simple.  Worse than infidelity is giving up.  How can you fix giving up?  It belongs to endings.  Infidelity means nothing if there is only a void.  Infidelity to the event is a luxury. If the event is of this world then the world is rich, it can afford infidelity.  If the event is not of this world except as a broken memory, then infidelity is a phantom.  Less than nostalgia.  Treason is an indiscernible; it is a mask of the hero.

Giving up is not the opposite of going on.  The imagination of going on taints the void.  Just as mathematical habits taint thought of things eluding mathematics.  Going on has to do with numbers, or even less, with counting, perhaps the counting of things, even imaginary things like money, but one can never deduce giving up from going on.

Adorno referring to Hegel’s “Große Logik” (the great logic) says that for Hegel quantity is itself a quality, quantity returns to quality.  Although Badiou is anxious to trace his philosophical lineage to Hegel, his mathematical ontology can never revert to quality.  Besides he creates a new paradox or antinomy – if mathematics is ontology what is the ontology of mathematics?  Has he eliminated the “ontological difference” in the case of mathematics – or what is the difference between mathematics qua Being (Sein) and mathematics as beings (Seiendes)?  How does mathematics qua Being abstain (withdraw) from the world of the lower intermediate (ontic) sphere – for example in the exacting of retribution or compensation, historically a mathematical branch of justice?

Philosophy for Badiou – although distinct from sophistry – relies absolutely upon fictions.  Certain fictions are licit others illicit.  The truth much vaunted by him is also not of the provable kind – in fact all of the great philosophers never proved anything.  Whatever fictions though are loose in the spheres; Badiou’s philosophy is motivated by a conviction that logos shapes the “the worldhood of the world” (“mondanité du monde”).  Perhaps here is located a deep crack in his otherwise solid ‘fidelity’ to Heidegger.

Wittgenstein’s philosophy reflects his disenchantment with the conviction (Russell’s and his own) that logic is foundational for mathematics expressed through language.  Consequently Wittgenstein ended philosophy.
The negative symmetry between Wittgenstein and Badiou is striking.
It is quite logical that Badiou should name Wittgenstein as the great sophist of our age. (see “The Return of Philosophy Itself”, Conditions, ibid.)  Much of Badiou’s philosophy in particular the intervention of mathematics in Being and world (reality) – the continuation of the Cantor-Frege and Russell program of the “logic of the world” - was condemned and abandoned by Wittgenstein.  He saw this program as an impossible and worthless quest for a system/foundation of unified truth.  Badiou’s “compossibility”?

Badiou’s philosophy is driven by a re-enchantment with the idea that logic is not only foundational for mathematics, but mathematics is Being itself – and by extrapolation Being becomes logical as in the “logic of the world”.  He has declared the end of the end of philosophy, in other words its resurrection.
Perhaps that is why he so favours the ‘resurrection’ of Christ as an event or as the birth of subjectivity.

Mathematics and the “real world” – the “non-ontological situation”:

How does one know if mathematics fits the world, which is not mathematical? One of Badiou’s interviewers in “Ontology and Politics” (see Alain Badiou, Infinite Thought, ibid.) asks him a similar question:  “How can non-ontological situations be differentiated if not on the basis of some universal language into which they are translated?”  This question annoys Badiou – hinting as it does at deep empiricist roots.  In Badiou’s system the “real world” is the “concrete situation” – there are always only situations – and if in such a situation an event is lurking indiscernibly the situation is not ontological, neither is it non-ontological, it is a truth process.  If however no event is imminent or immanent – such a situation possesses or is structured by an “encyclopaedia of knowledge” more or less accessible to all.

The interviewer could be forgiven for his insistence on such an empiricist-sounding question.  Badiou drifts continuously between claims of strictest empirical or at least mathematical-scientific proof regimes for his thesis mathematics is ontology and apriori (axiomatic) convictions such as “all situations are infinite” (ibid., p. 182) or that “nothing attests that a generic (truth) procedure is authentically generic.” (ibid. p. 173).  Mathematics itself is a truth procedure, a condition and at the same time the discourse of ‘being as such’ (ontology) – by definition absolutely separate from the truth conditions themselves and from philosophy.  How does this tri-partite schizophrenic split inscribe itself in the situation which is ontology?  On the other hand, the concrete situation of the subject in a truth procedure “has nothing to do with ontology.” (ibid. p. 179)  The demonstrability of his thesis is thus reserved only for mathematics using mathematical means – but the application of these borrowed concepts to the situation and event is absolutely unprovable.  “On this point I have the same conception of truth as Spinoza.  Truth is index sui.  Truth is the proof of itself.  There is no external guarantee.  So, the genericity of the procedure of truth is effective in the process itself.  This point is very important because major philosophical differences are linked to it.  For very different thinkers – Heidegger, Lacan, Spinoza, Deleuze, myself – there is a conviction that truth has no guarantee, and for other analytical philosophers it is necessary for truth to have guarantees in thought and judgement.  It is the principal split today.” (Badiou, ibid., pp.173-174).  Elsewhere Badiou declares categorically there is no difference between continental and analytical philosophy.

If truth is absolutely unprovable but being qua ontology qua mathematics qua truth is absolutely and uniquely demonstrable and provable – what if anything does the one have to do with the other?

Although he is most sanguine about the unprovability of truth, Badiou seems incredulous almost offended by a remark he quotes from Russell in Being and Event implying mathematics is also less than verifiable – Russell had cast doubt on mathematics’ coherence and veracity.  The tone of disillusionment seems quite ‘Wittgensteinian’:   “Russell said—without believing it, of course, no one in truth has ever believed it, save the ignorant, and Russell certainly wasn’t such—that mathematics is a discourse in which one does not know what one is talking about, nor whether what one is saying is true. Mathematics is rather the sole discourse which ‘knows’ absolutely what it is talking about: being, as such, despite the fact that there is no need for this knowledge to be reflected in an intra-mathematical sense, because being is not an object nor does it generate objects.  Mathematics is also the sole discourse, and this is well known, in which one has a complete guarantee and a criterion of truth of what one says, to the point that this truth is unique inasmuch as it is the only one ever to have been encountered which is fully transmissible.”  (Alain Badiou, Being and Event, ibid., p.8)

The form of this sequence is a classic syllogism: Russell said mathematics is a discourse in which one does not know what one is talking about etc. without himself believing it.  Only the ignorant have ever believed that.  Russell was not ignorant.  So Russell did not believe what he said. (All men are mortal.  Socrates was a man.  Socrates was mortal.)  Badiou’s syllogism opens up a whole new type of infinite grid or truth table – making it possible to believe or disbelieve anything he himself says – depending upon what one considers to be the opinion of the “ignorant” and the “not ignorant” – whereby ignorance itself can be considered a positive or desirable condition vis-à-vis knowledge as in Socratic ignorance or the docta ignorantia of Cusanus.  Cusanus’ thinking about infinity and the universe, derived from his metaphysics of the divine, influenced Giordano Bruno, Kepler, Leibniz and even Cantor.  Mathematical discoveries have metaphysical roots.  Mathematical rules are most likely of a completely different breed – a kind of “Hilfswissenschaft” (auxiliary science) as Novalis would say, like secondary virtues.  Mathematical propositions, according to Wittgenstein are “(…) norms of description correctly explain(ing) applied mathematics, by identifying the role of mathematical propositions within empirical discourse.” (Hans-Johann Glock, A Wittgenstein Dictionary, Oxford, 1996, p.234).
Such norms differ from speculative mathematics - no more limited or bound by rules than any other form of speculative thought.  If Badiou’s “mathematics are ontology” pertains to normative rule following mathematics, (as he implies), then these are conventions for empirical description – neither infinite nor without object.  (Although the logical rules determining these mathematical propositions are not objects – according to Wittgenstein of the Tractatus Logico-Philosophicus.)  If the mathematics intended by Badiou are speculative or infinite – then they cannot be normative nor a model for coherence nor “fully transmissible”.