 On February 29, 2024, the Israeli army deliberately ran over a Palestinian man in Gaza City’s Al-Zaytoun neighborhood after he was arrested. The man was harshly interrogated by Israeli soldiers, who tied his hands with plastic zip-tie handcuffs before running him over with a military vehicle from the legs up. In order to ensure that he was thoroughly crushed, Israeli soldiers laid him on asphalt instead of an adjacent sandy area. The man had his clothes removed, since he was seen wearing only his underpants. When one looks at the body, one is confronted with the absolute unidentifiability of the man that it previously constituted: the individuality of the human being has been flattened into scattered, disfigured organs and parts. Colonial Reality How do we think about the comprehensively destroyed body? In mainstream liberal thought, the evisceration of a human being can be regarded as a “moral” failing, as a loss of “lives” that has to be prevented. Palestinians here figure merely as “victims” of terror; their redemption, consequently, lies in the normative abstraction of “peace”. The body of the victim is sensationalized and marketed as a blot upon the fabric of humanity so that people can be convinced in favor of the cessation of hostilities. Politics is reduced to “outrage,” while collective action is postponed to the day when everyone’s moral conscience has awoken. When this spontaneous moral awakening doesn’t happen, a sense of helplessness pervades. All this while, the individual can pride themselves over their distance from the violence of Hamas, which is considered as a myopic outburst without any political vision. This is clear in renowned Marxist philosopher Etienne Balibar’s response to the Palestine crisis. He says that Hamas’ October 7 military operation can’t be justified because it was “accompanied by particularly odious crimes against the Israeli population: the murder of adults and children, torture, rape and kidnapping.” These “exterminist massacres…replicated the massacres perpetrated by the Jewish paramilitaries on Palestinian villages during the Naqba.” All the supposed atrocities committed by Hamas have been debunked as Zionist propaganda. Most of the 1,154 Israelis that the government claims were killed by Palestinians were actually killed by the Zionist state itself. This is the result of Israel’s Hannibal Directive, which authorizes the killing of Israeli soldiers if they fall into enemy hands. The story about the killing of babies was propagated without evidence, being based on the words of Major David Ben Zion – an extremist settler who has explicitly called for violence against Palestinians. Claims about rape were established through a fraudulent New York Times investigation, which was published even though not a single rape victim was found. Balibar’s willingness to accept the demonization of Palestinian resistance is rooted in the aforementioned logic of liberal peace, wherein clean, uncluttered thought is prioritized over the spiraling movement of anti-colonial resistance. Any counter-attack on Zionist settler-colonialism is said to be caught within the confines of the extant social reality. Palestinians and Israelis, then, become two sides of an overarching situation, continuously mirroring each other in terms of their deplorable violence. An exit from this situation can be conceived only in an external manner, as the intervention of a supervening agency. Thus, Balibar says that the only possible outcome consists in the intervention of the international community and its institutions, “demanding an immediate ceasefire, the release of the hostages, the prosecution of the war crimes committed by both sides, and the implementation of the countless UN resolutions that have gone unheeded.” But he himself adds that this desired resolution has no chance of happening because “institutions have been neutralized by the major or medium-sized imperialist powers, and the Jewish-Arab conflict has once again become an issue in the maneuvers they engage in to determine spheres of influence and networks of alliances, in a context of cold and hot wars.” Geopolitical and regional power dynamics “obliterate any effective international legality. We are in a circle of impotence and calculation from which there is no escape. The catastrophe will therefore carry to term, and we will suffer the consequences.” Impotence – this becomes the fate of a liberal-pacifist strategy that wants to separate the Palestinian question from any contaminating influence of concrete geopolitical and social actors. In order to build an alternative to Balibar’s (anti)politics of impotence, consider these words by him: “I see the massacre on October 7th involving various atrocities perpetrated against civilians as a pure terrorist action (also in the literal sense: meant to spread terror), which forces to confer a terrorist character upon the organization itself.” Instead of disavowing this characterization, I want to interpret it literally: yes, a war of national liberation does intend to spread terror among the settlers so that the sense of security enjoyed by the colonial system can be upended. Colonial society in its entirety should be woken out of its racist insularity by being forced to pay the price of occupation, just as the colonized pay the price for national oppression. Terror should be felt on both sides. When anti-colonial practice inflicts damage upon structures of brutality through the deployment of terror, the entire alliance of imperialist states comes together to contain the movement. Therefore, when Balibar says that a “terrorist character” should be conferred upon Hamas, he forgets that this has already been done through sanctions and terror lists created by states of the Global North. But these instruments of repression have had a counterproductive effect, introducing a form of delinking among the entities that are at the receiving end of imperialist strangulation. In the words of Max Ajl: “As political organizations were “maximally” coerced and quarantined, they made mutual linkages. Delinking led to a type of regional collective self-reliant security doctrine, architecture, and technological and military coordination. Imperialism built an inadvertent scaffolding for its opponents’ ideological and political goals.” Thus, anti-colonial terror lays bare the contours of confrontation, imposing upon us the stark divide of national liberation and imperialism. Operation Al-Aqsa Flood has heightened the antagonism between the colonizer and the colonized, with the entire globe feeling the reverberations of this binarized division. As the divide between national liberation and colonialism is sharpened, amplified, and simplified, one can’t say that both the sides are involved in a cycle of violence, wherein each mimes the other in the performance of cruelty. In order to say that the colonizer and the colonized are similar in terms of their violent acts, one has to compare this violence against a common standard of peace. But the peculiarity of colonialism consists in the fact that there is no unified notion of peace. Frantz Fanon elaborates: “The zone inhabited by the colonized is not complementary to the zone inhabited by the colonizers. The two zones confront each other, but not in the service of a higher unity. Governed by a purely Aristotelian logic, they follow the principle of mutual exclusion: There is no conciliation possible, one of the terms is superfluous”. Since Balibar wants to establish a similarity between the violence of Hamas and Israel, he has to acknowledge that he is comparing both these forms of violence from a higher standpoint of peace. And this is exactly what he does. He writes that the aim of Hamas’ October 7 attack was “to provoke a response of such violence that the war would enter a new, truly “exterminationist” phase, obliterating forever the possibilities of the two peoples living together.” Possibilities – this is a key word of liberal ideology, as it presupposes that the colonial situation always contains a reservoir of morality, a hope of reconciliation. However, colonialism is an irreconcilable struggle between two opposing forces. Even if Hamas had remained completely quiet, Israel would have maintained its genocide of Palestinians. Settler sovereignty can only be ensured through the perpetually enacted destruction of indigenous presence. The mere fact of Palestinian existence is a threat to Israel. Hamas’ military operations don’t determine the character of Israeli response. The response of Israel is ingrained in the structure of colonialism, which mandates the extermination of the native. That’s why Balibar is wrong to say that Operation Al-Aqsa Flood has erased the “possibilities” of peace. There never was such a possibility. In a colonial situation, possibilities are created by cracking open the shell of frozen impossibilities. This brings me back to the dismembered body of the Palestinian man. The colonial violence enacted upon this body can’t be judged against a higher notion of morality, as colonialism drives back all ethereal ideological words into the soil of struggle. In order to understand the crushed body, one has to analyze the concrete causes that have brought about this kind of death. Without these causes, we will end up in the fantasy world of liberal ethics, where everything is subordinated to the judgmental gaze of a contemplative observer. Here, it is instructive to read Nikolai Bukharin’s explanation of the materiality of the body: Now man is a very delicately organized creature. Destroy this organization, disorganize it, take it apart, cut it up, and the “mind” at once disappears. If men were able to put together this system again, to assemble the human organism, in other words, if it were possible to take a human body apart and put it together again just as one may do with the parts of a clock, consciousness would also at once return; once the clock has been reassembled it will operate and start to tick; put together the human organism, and it will start to think. Comparing a body to a clock – this seems offensive the sensibilities of liberal morality where “humanity” is constantly touted as an inviolable construct. However, a mechanical perspective is appropriate for the politics of anti-colonialism, where one mourns not the violation of the body’s humanity but its disorganization by specific actors. In politics, the disorganized body is reassembled through collective action, through the gathering of masses that preserves the desire for life through concrete practices of disobedience and construction. This organized mass targets the entity that is responsible for the disorganization of bodies, namely the Zionist state. If violence needs to be deployed in the struggle against colonialism, then it is fully justified. It is simply an instrument that assists in the reassembly of bodies through the disassembly of the colonial enemy. Strategies of Civility Balibar believes that violence is not a mere instrument. In his book Violence and Civility: On the Limits of Political Philosophy, he states that “political violence can never be completely controlled. One cannot simply use it as a means in the service of certain ends…without oneself feeling the ambivalent effects of its use, “deliberate” or not.” Violence, accordingly, can no longer be thought as “a means or an instrument employed to accomplish something else…It is, rather, the uncertain stakes of a confrontation with the element of irreducible alterity that it carries within itself.” This “irreducible alterity” refers to the fact that violence “exceeds the purposes guaranteeing it a permanent place in the economy of power and production.” It is never entirely functional, as it “exceeds the intentions and escapes the control of those exercising violence”. This dysfunctionality has been foregrounded through the defeat of the “ideologies of modernity” that believed in the “grand narrative of progress”. This grand narrative can be summarized in the thesis of the “convertibility” of violence: “the consequences of the most massive acts of destruction are ruins and mourning, but they cannot not be constructive (or reconstructive), even as they destroy.” The “historical optimism or faith in the meaning of history” has been lost with the defeat of revolutionary projects. These projects practiced counter-violence, which Balibar classifies as a simplistic “inversion” of ruling class violence. Socialist revolutions believed that they that they must reduplicate bourgeois violence if they are to properly “monopolize” it. This monopolization is “dangerous for the very people who wield and institute them”. Why? “[B]ecause they are nothing other, at the limit, than crystallized or stabilized violence and, in the final analysis, the relative stabilization, by groups and individuals in a given society, of their own violence – in the form of a distantiation and unequal distribution, a more or less permanent appropriation of the means of violence by some of them.” Balibar believes that the hierarchical foundation of revolutionary counter-violence – its status as an unequal distribution of force – was overlooked due to the construction of a grand narrative, namely class struggle as the “motor of history”. This narrative of history demarcated a new division between “revolutionary” violence and “counterrevolutionary” violence. The latter was excluded “from the meaning of history” as it was regarded as an obstacle to the revolution. Insofar as revolutionary projects dogmatically justified their violence through the construction of a facile grand history, they failed to engage with legitimate disagreements and antagonisms. Any dynamic that didn’t agree with state policy was classified as “counterrevolutionary”. This initiated a “truly suicidal process” of increasing repression. State institutions and police apparatuses in socialist societies came to replicate the hierarchical structure of the enemies against whom they were fighting. According to Balibar, globalization has operated a “practical refutation of the grand schemes of the intelligibility of politics”. Both bourgeois and post-revolutionary states depended upon the primacy of the nation, which functioned as a form of “collective subjectivity” integrating individuals “in the process of historical universality (patriotism, civic duty).” Insofar as globalization has diminished the significance of the nation, it has destroyed the myth of a unified history. Today, events no longer unfold as part of an evolving chain of meaningful collective action. Conflicts no longer oppose a “negative” to a “positive”. Rather, “the intrinsic complexity or order of multiplicity that characterizes conflict” introduces a new reality that can’t be captured by the binaries of revolutionary counter-violence. These binaries assumed that conflict would birth progress. However, progress has been replaced by the explosion of myriad forms of “extreme violence” (environmental catastrophe, ethnic wars, etc.) that don’t contribute to any grand narrative. This form of violence that is not part of the “universal meaning” of history is “inconvertible” violence i.e. violence that can’t be incorporated into a teleological narrative. Inconvertible violence shows that totalizing discourses will always fail in their attempt to convert all violence into social stability. An inconvertible remainder inevitably haunts the unity of grand narratives. As Balibar remarks, “the history of society or the field of politics is that of an excess or irreducible remainder of violence (if only latent violence) over the institutional, legal, or strategic forms for reducing and eliminating it.” Insofar as inconvertible violence lies outside the justificatory web of totalizing discourses, it directly attests to the entanglement of politics with antagonisms, the fact that politics is not a stable and absolute idea but a form of fragile power relation. This fragility is present in extreme violence, which is shorn of any larger narrative of progress. Consequently, extreme violence is faced with the abyss of indeterminacy, the inability of a justification to permanently ground politics. Instead of accepting the indeterminacy of politics, extreme violence aims to tear apart social bonds in order to generate security. That’s why it targets “the humanity in man, the very fact of inclusion in the human race,” an impossible task that needs to be repeated in order to guarantee a temporary sense of “omnipotence”. Extreme violence thus reveals an “incompressible minimum,” an excess that can’t be eliminated: “individuality is not a simple totality which could be circumscribed in a unique discourse, a unique way of life; there always remains an indefinite multiplicity of “parts,” relationships, and fluctuations which exceed such an imaginary project, and wind up subverting it.” Balibar asks us to accept the groundlessness of politics that is revealed in a perverse fashion by the anxieties of extreme violence. Instead of eliminating the threat of conflict (which extreme violence tends to do), we should accept the fundamental conflictuality of politics itself. Not all violence can be converted into the teleology of a social order. There always remains an inconvertible remainder that disturbs the stability of discourses. The ends for which we want to deploy violence are overpowered by an excess of violence that we wrongly relegate to mere means. Balibar writes: “violence can’t be simply the other of politics, unless we want to imagine a politics without powers, power relations, inequalities, conflicts, or interests, which would be tantamount to a politics without politics.” The acknowledgement of violence as a conflictual dynamic that can’t be suppressed points us towards the “precariousness” of politics, the fact that it can’t be guaranteed once and for all by a grand historical narrative. Instead, politics is constituted by an “infinite circularity”: a political action depends on its own movement of permanent negotiation, instead of being subordinated to an invariant foundation. When this circularity is ignored, we enter the realm of extreme violence where one engages in the impossible search for a metaphysical foundation. As Balibar puts it: [We need] to conceive of politics…as an absolute “fiction,” or an institution with no foundation that is necessarily and irremediably contingent…The sole “foundation” is a negative one, terror or extreme violence (or a combination of the forms of extreme violence, which is, precisely, terror). The alternative, it is the aleatory, purely practical possibility of avoiding terror, of deferring it more or less completely and for a relatively protracted period. The aleatory mode of politics leads to “civility,” wherein politics doesn’t renounce the imperative of liberatory violence but attempts to combat its “nihilism” through careful controls. This enables Balibar to contrast the nihilistic tendencies of revolutionary counter-violence to “anti-violence,” which denotes “resistance to the reactive violence that violence itself elicits when it is generalized”. Thus, the anti-violence of civility allows a mass movement to “take a distance from itself” and engage in self-critique. There always has to be a space where people can “reflect on the consequences and aftereffects of their own “social movements” when they confront a violent social order or a legal state of injustice”. In other words, civility is a second-order reflection that prevents mass movements from falling prey to unthinking “barbarity”. It is the practice that pits careful reflection against uninformed action. As Balibar notes, “we must take risks and know which risks we take”. My objection is that the notion of civility ontologizes politics by tying it to the “ultrapolitical” instance of contingency or groundlessness. This is evident when Balibar says that whenever progressive has succeeded in its objectives, “this has never happened in accordance with the logic of such politics alone. Rather, another politics, irreducible to any of these received political concepts, has always had to intervene in addition, or to provide politics with its underside, as it were: precisely the politics that I am hypothetically calling civility.” Even if we admit that politics is groundless, this doesn’t necessitate the transformation of this groundlessness into the “impolitic limit of politics”. On the contrary, the contingent nature of politics testifies to the fact that the effects of violence can’t be moderated by the reflective faculty of an enlightened intellect. When Balibar asks political militants to take risks while knowing which risks they are taking, he elides the collective character of politics, wherein decisions are outside the remit of knowledge. Knowledge presupposes a relation of correspondence between the knower and the object that is to be known. In politics, the risks that are to be known are outside of one’s grasp since their effects come into display only when they join the general field of social reality. Unless we take risks, we are never going to know their precise character. Balibar knows that politics is aleatory, that it can’t be provided with a permanent foundation. But he turns this very fact of contingency into a guiding principle that can be implemented by people when they undertake politics. This accords a transcendental authority to the power of abstract reflection, which swoops in from afar to judge if a specific political action is respecting the contingency of politics. In concrete cases, this leads to a vague democratic ideology that repeats anti-communist and pro-imperialist falsities. The Ideology of Bourgeois Democracy The ontologization of politics is visible in Balibar’s comments on the Russia-Ukraine war. He says that the rationale behind the 2022 Russian invasion of Ukraine was two-fold. First, Russia wanted to “rebuild the Empire that had been formed over centuries under the tsarist regime and sanctified by the messianic mission of “Holy Russia”, then secularized and expanded by Stalin under the name of communism, now resurrected with the help of a virulent nationalist ideology that counterposes an idealized traditional “Greater Russia” or “Eurasia” to the “degenerate” democratic West.” He never explains why Stalin’s rule represented a form of imperialism. He merely mentions the Holodomor – the 1932-33 famine that killed Ukrainian peasants. Balibar regards the Holodomor as part of the “greatest genocides of the 20th century,” putting it on par with the Holocaust. This interpretation takes part in an anti-communist model that attributes the Ukrainian famine to the evil intentions of Stalin. According to Mark B. Tauger, “the famine was not limited to Ukraine, but affected virtually the entire Soviet Union, and resulted first of all from a series of natural disasters in 1931–32 that diminished harvests drastically”. It is illogical to say that Stalin killed Ukrainian peasants, because “the Soviet regime depended for its survival on the peasantry and relied on the peasants to overcome the famine, which they did by producing a much larger harvest in 1933, despite the tragic famine conditions in which they worked.” This shows that “collectivization allowed the mobilization and distribution of resources, like tractors, seed aid, and food relief, to enable farmers to produce a large harvest during a serious famine, which was unprecedented in Russian history and almost so in Soviet history.” It is also important to remember that it was farm collectivization that strengthened the Soviet state against the Nazi army “by ensuring the priority of Red Army soldiers and war workers over peasants in the wartime allocation of food.” Without the defeat of Germany by the Soviets, Hitler would have achieved domination over continental Europe, possibly leading to Britain’s withdrawal from the conflict and hindering American support to Europe. Top of FormThus, when we look beyond the decontextualized invocation of the famine, we can observe how the Soviet Union pre-empted the spread of fascism and then brought about large-scale, revolutionizing changes in Ukrainian society. It turned a largely agricultural and illiterate country into a highly industrialized nation in the developed world. For instance, the first computer in the USSR was developed in Kyiv. With Soviet collapse, Ukraine’s industry suffered greatly due to open theft and deterioration. Ukraine couldn’t find any market for its industrial goods after the destruction of Soviet trade links. The absence of concrete analyses is also present in the equivalence that Balibar makes between the Holodomor and the Holocaust. Jaquelin Coulson notes that the Holodomor has functioned as a nationalist narrative in the building of Ukraine, mobilizing hatred not only against Russians (who are constructed as a foreign, invasive Other) but also against Jews. In wartime Soviet Ukraine, Nazi occupiers used public accounts of the famine to stoke anti-Semitic sentiments, blaming the Jews for committing genocide against Ukraine. Since its establishment in 1929, the Organization of Ukrainian Nationalists (OUN) framed “Judeo-Bolshevism” as a powerful threat to Ukrainian nationalism, thus carrying out violent acts against Ukrainian Jews. This anti-Semitic worldview led to the belief that Jews had somehow caused, benefited from, or escaped the famine. Levko Lukyanenko, author of the Declaration of Independence of Ukraine, thought that the Jews were in control of the Soviet government when the supposed genocide took place. By not undertaking a historically grounded dissection of the Ukrainian famine, Balibar partakes in the politics of “competitive atrocity” wherein suffering is inflated as a unique, immoral event instead of being referred to its socio-structural contexts. Balibar says that the imperial ambitions of Russia are being reinvented through the dichotomy of a traditionalist “Greater Russia” or “Eurasia” and a “degenerate” democratic West. This is a purely culturalist analysis that overlooks the actuality of geo-economic politics. A Eurasian project is not about traditionalist and imperialist ideology but about the reduction of European countries’ dependence on the US-led unipolar world order through trade with Russia and China. Due to the war in Ukraine, Europe has reduced its use of Russian gas, thereby increasing its dependence on costlier US liquefied natural gas (LNG). The US has exploited this energy crisis by selling its LNG to Europe at high prices. This allows the US to exercise greater influence on European foreign policy. What Balibar characterizes as the traditionalism of present-day Russia is not the core component of the country’s reigning politics. Rather, Russian pragmatically operates according to multiple ideologies that can challenge the legitimacy of the US-led world order and thus, help combat imperialist attacks against Russia. Western observers have accused Russia of being traditionalist because they overemphasize the conservative and authoritarian elements that compose Putinism. What they overlook is the fact that these ideologies are said to be against the excessive liberalism and globalism of the West. Thus, what matters for Putin is a sovereigntist position against the West, one that uses patriotism against an interventionist Western liberal order. The 2023 report “Russia’s Policy Towards the World Majority,” published by the most influential foreign policy institutes of Russia, argues that US unipolarity is being challenged by a new coalition that is not “anti-West” but “non-West”: it is not ideologically hostile to the West but finds itself opposed to the objective interests of the Global North. This opposition manifests itself in support for a multipolar world order where nation-states are free from imperialist influence and thus more permeable to popular influence. As the report states: The extremist mutation of the liberal idea currently underway in the West should be classified as a specific product of Western civilization not subject to internationalization. There is a need for our own response – agreeable with the cultural and philosophical traditions of different civilizations – to the most acute challenges to human development ranging from environmental issues to ethical problems related to modern technologies. Blindly following the Western agenda is not just useless but is also harmful. The distinction between “anti-West” and “non-Western” is important because it highlights that Russia’s illiberal and traditionalist biases are not reflective of imperial ambitions. Instead, they are a subordinate component of a sovereigntist position that supports multipolarization. Insofar as multipolarization will democratize the world order, it needs to be critically welcomed even as we oppose the traditionalist streaks of Russian politics. Second, Balibar writes that the Russian invasion was a “preventive political war” aimed at crushing “the liberal-democratic orientation of the Ukrainian state” so that it didn’t inspire reformist changes in Russia itself. He says that the Maidan-Revolution of 2013-14 was a “democratic invention” despite all its weaknesses, like sectarianism, oligarchical manipulation, political corruption, and involvement of militias. For Balibar, the ultimately “democratic” character of the Maidan-Revolution lies in the fact that “it initiated…a collective move towards the official values of the Western European democratic systems (however “oligarchic” they can be themselves, but leaving room for political pluralism) and it could represent a model for the citizens of the Russian federation.” So, the “democratic” character of the Maidan revolution lies in its espousal of bourgeois-liberal democracy. It is hardly a foregone conclusion that the political pluralism of liberal democracy is superior to other regimes. Pluralist democracy can very well function as the most efficient means of authoritarianism. This is what happened in the Maidan revolution. The 2014 Ukrainian President Viktor Yanukovych tried to play Russia and the European Union (EU) off one another to get the best economic deal for Ukraine. Thus, he became the target of Western-backed business interests and Russophobic neo-Nazi groups. With US backing, the latter staged a coup and forced Yanukovych to flee to Moscow. The overthrow of the elected president came to be known as the Maidan Revolution, named after the Kiev square that hosted the protests. On February 6, 2014, an anonymous entity leaked a call between US Assistant Secretary of State Victoria Nuland and US ambassador to Ukraine Geoffrey Pyatt. They could be heard saying that Arseniy Yatsenyuk is America’s choice to replace Yanukovych, which he did. The new government adopted pro-EU and pro-NATO policies. It imposed restrictions on the teaching of the Russian language in eastern Ukraine and Crimea, provoking resistance among the inhabitants. With the support of the majority of the population, expressed in a referendum, Putin joined Crimea to Russia. In the same year as Russia’s annexation of Crimea, separatist leaders supported by Moscow seized Donetsk and Luhansk – populated primarily by Russian ethnic minorities striving for independence – and declared the “People’s Republics of Donetsk and Lugansk”. These events angered ultra-nationalist Ukrainian forces; they declared war on the people that were opposing Yatsenyuk’s Euro-American posture. So, far from being an instance of “democratic invention,” the Maidan revolution was a maneuver through which Northern imperialist forces staged a coup, promoted neo-Nazi forces in the state apparatus, and launched a war against Russian ethnic minorities in the country. This liquidated the sovereignty of Ukraine and plunged it “into a simulated semicolonial situation without being directly occupied and divided but nevertheless reprogrammed to launch a war against itself and to point offensive weapons at neighboring Russia”. Instead of initiating a democratic resurgence, liberal democracy functioned as a framework for a NATO-Neo-Nazi axis that wanted to wage war against Russia without any concerns for the human cost. However, Balibar ignores all this by merely asserting that “there is a complete dissymmetry for a democratic country between the perspectives of being taken and swallowed again by a backward-looking autocratic empire, and the perspective of being incorporated into a federation which creates or perpetuates inequalities, but has set up rules for negotiating participation.” In the end, we get an Orientalist assertion that replaces a concrete examination of the Russian social formation with an unverified faith in the goodness of bourgeois, Western democracy. Given that Balibar’s politics of civility forgoes the confrontation of social forces in favor of the reflective power of bourgeois democracy, it is no surprise that his discussion of the global significance of the Palestinian movement is oriented towards the abstract goal of “justice”. He says that both Ukraine and Palestine are united their pursuit of “justice”: “not only the justice that refers to a position in war, on one side or the other of the divide between aggressor and victim, or oppressor and resistant, but the justice that can acquire a universal resonance, the justice that confers a universalistic dimension upon the claim of rights that some actors embody in the war.” Both Ukraine and Palestine “appear as incarnations of universal principles of self-determination and resistance to oppression, reason why, in different parts of the world, there are today activists who make valuable efforts to simultaneously support and articulate the two causes.” This universalist perspective of justice is different from the logic of “campism” which sees the current conflagrations either “in terms of a conflict between “democracies” and “totalitarian states”, or a conflict between the “Western imperialism” (under US hegemony, organized by NATO) and the “emerging peoples” with a tricontinental basis.” Balibar wants to repudiate both these campist perspectives by emphasizing “the specific history of each war, each people, each territory in its own local terms” and by describing “the modalities in which a war has developed out of conditions and choices that were made by their own actors: Russians, Ukrainians, Israeli Jews and Palestinian Arabs, with all their internal divisions and their complete history.” What is relevant to note here is that Balibar wants to replace the actual reality of geopolitical camps with the philosophically concocted fantasy of struggles that transcend these camps and strive for “justice” and “liberty”. The American Empire controls, through NATO and other modalities, 74.3% of all military spending worldwide. This amounts to more than US$ 2 trillion. Thus, “the single most important aspect of state power – that is, military power – the absolute central danger to the working classes of all countries, especially to the darker nations of the world, lies in the US-Led Imperialist Camp.” The struggles for “justice” and “liberty” that Balibar imagines obscure the contradiction between the imperialism of the American Empire and the people of Global South. He says that this division, “while remaining real (and crucial), is also compounded by other “global” phenomena,” namely “global warming and the environmental catastrophe,” which subvert “all borders in the world”. But ecological degradation itself is differentially distributed according to the socio-economic gradations of the world-imperialist system. Countries of the Global South are disproportionately affected by climate change due to the fact that global warming hits the hotter, low latitude, tropical, and subtropical regions of the earth especially hard. These countries are also generally poor due to imperialist factors such as underdevelopment, mal-development, poverty, corruption, and inequality which amplify each extreme weather event into social tragedies as communities suffer displacement, hunger, and heightened precarity. Balibar sees contemporary conflicts not as a division between “camps” but as a “globalized,” “hybrid” war. This hybrid war supposedly subverts the boundary of those camps by unleashing a quest for “justice” and “liberty” that is not reducible to geopolitical and military conflicts. We can see here how the politics of civility ends up with an abstract, contemplative mindset that wants to attain justice not through the struggle of camps but through another ethereal struggle that floats above all concrete divisions. In the end, this ethereal level of justice becomes synonymous with the defense of bourgeois democracy, since it contains the appearance of pluralism. Civility becomes a pro-imperialist prejudice that constantly rails against the hordes of “uncivil” masses who are not trained in the kind of reflection that bourgeois democracy teaches. In the real world, by contrast, conflicts are resolved not through careful contemplation but through “uncivil” antagonisms. Today, the most important division is between imperialism and humanity. The Palestinian cause can’t be separated from the struggle against US domination, a fact that is well understood by the Axis of Resistance (Iran, Syria, Yemen, Hezbollah, Iraq). Popular democracy can be realized only through strengthened national sovereignty that is capable of waging defensive wars against USA’s policy of sanctions, invasions, encroachment, and destabilization. As Ajl writes: “Wars of national sovereignty against imperialism are pro-working class… the contemporary axis plays a limited but real liberatory role in staving off state collapse in the countries near and around Palestine and shielding populations’ social reproduction and popular well-being against the reaper of accumulation-through-development.” The same logic of anti-imperialism applies to Russia. The country witnessed more than 25 million deaths due to the invasion of European fascists when it was governed by communists. Today, Russia is again a target of imperialist forces. The US-NATO camp wants “to permanently destroy Russia’s nuclear military capacity and install a puppet regime in Moscow in order to dismember Russia in the long term and replace it with many smaller, permanently weakened vassal states of the West.” Thus, we have a campist struggle that no one can escape. Any new horizon has to be born from within these camps, amidst the uncontrollable, contingent materiality of struggles. Revolutionary Movement The present-day Palestinian movement is giving us indications of what an alternative revolutionary politics can look like by erecting a sharp divide between the democratic ideology of bourgeois intellectuals and the militancy of the masses. On the one hand, intellectuals like Balibar are worried that Hamas is reproducing the violent mentality of Zionism. This is based on the assumption that the October 7 attack was an irrational outburst of primitive sentiments without any political rationale. That’s why politics can only entrusted to the reflective scrutiny of democratic discussions. In Balibar’s theory, such reflective scrutiny is provided by civility, which is a form of politics that can touch the ultra-political contingency of politics itself. This ultra-political contingency is present as the inconvertible violence that forms the limit-point of every political action. If we hubristically suppose that all violence can be converted into reason, we will end up with the fantasy of omnipotence in which all resistance is eliminated in a cycle of nihilistic violence. That’s why Balibar’s politics of civility wants us to respect the contingency of politics without attempting to hide it beneath fantasies of omnipotence. Thus, even though politics is tragic – groundless and without guarantees – this “tragedy of politics can become a politics of tragedy on the basis of the “ethical” decision that the risk of the perversion of the revolt is not a sufficient reason not to revolt.” In the paradigm of civility, people will revolt with the full knowledge that they are intrinsically impotent and can’t wholly eliminate antagonism. Thus, we get a “politics of tragedy” sustained by ethical reflection upon the groundlessness of politics. On the other hand, we have the mass action of Palestinian anti-colonialism wherein the dilemmas of politics are answered not through the philosophical invocation of ultra-political contingency but through the confrontation of forces on the terrain of social reality. Balibar simplifies divisions by dissolving them into a transcendental level of civility wherein the political actor can treat antagonisms in a peaceful manner. Instead of trying to eliminate the enemy, the enlightened political actor focuses on how antagonism can never be entirely eliminated, or how politics can never attain full stability. This knowledge curbs violence against the enemy and cultivates a more civil attitude. One can’t fail to emphasize how Palestinians are constantly asked to demonstrate their civility; their language has to remain perpetually aware of the kind of effects that it may have on others. This leads to a hyper-moderation of Palestinian behavior, where anything that is disliked by Israeli oppressors is deemed “anti-Semitic”. Mohammad el-Kurd writes: We were instructed to ignore the Star of David on the Israeli flag, and to distinguish Jews from Zionists with surgical precision. It didn’t matter that their boots were on our necks, and that their bullets and batons bruised us. Our statelessness and homelessness were trivial. What mattered was how we spoke about our keepers, not the conditions they kept us under—blockaded, surrounded by colonies and military outposts—or the fact that they kept us at all. In this situation, “simple ignorance” becomes a “luxury” for Palestinians. If we keep focusing on how the oppressed should regulate themselves so that they don’t fall into barbarity, we will forget that no matter how they behave, they will never be perfect enough for a dialogue with the oppressors. Balibar thinks that by being the “perfect victims” the oppressed will convince the oppressors to negotiate their antagonisms with them in a thoughtful manner. But this is never going to happen. Antagonisms are irreconcilable as long as they are not fought out to their end. El-Kurd rightly asks us to “renew our commitment to the truth, to spitting the truth”. Spitting is a physical expression of disgust, or aggression. It is an open declaration of hostility instead of a solely cognitive exchange of knowledge. Cognition and reflection fail to initiate the flow of ideas since the sea of thinking remains trapped in spaces of colonialism, the bodily realities of colonized and colonizing subjectivity. The flow of ideas will happen once their spatial encasements are burst open. Antagonisms have to jump-started through the act of spitting the truth, through violence against the colonialist. Balibar, in contrast, subscribes to a cognitive schema because regards antagonisms as concrete representatives of an ultra-political antagonism, which he designates as the “precariousness” of politics that we have to constantly recognize. Such an ultra-political antagonism doesn’t exist; in social formations, we only have concretely situated groups with concrete interests. These interests can’t be removed through careful reflection and discussion. On the contrary, they are material structures whose rigidity needs to be broken down through a concrete struggle of forces. This is what anti-colonial violence does by eroding the sense of entitlement enjoyed by colonizers and exposing them to the popular power of the colonized. In the midst of struggle, only a detached philosopher can ask the oppressed to use violence in a way that preserves the openness of antagonisms. This openness or precariousness of politics is not an idea that can be theoretically pondered upon or a reservoir of morality that can be used to practice civility. Rather, it is an emergent reality formed through the destruction of the oppressors. That’s why inconvertible violence as such doesn’t exist. The inconvertibility of violence is determined conjuncturally when political procedures of conversion encounter certain impasses/obstacles. Instead of staring at the impasse and turning it into a philosophical principle of precariousness, we need to use the impasse to reconfigure our own political perspective and carry on the struggle. The groundlessness of politics is not a tragedy that we need to codify into an ethical principle but a material fact out of which we need to weave the dynamic of political action. Politics is indeterminate and without guarantees, but this doesn’t mean that indeterminacy has to become a moral horizon. Instead, indeterminacy functions as the motor that renders politics inexhaustible and confronts it with obstacles that demand specific responses. Far from conforming to the reflective carefulness of civility, politics is like the uncivil act of flooding unleashed by Operation Al-Aqsa Flood, wherein hierarchies are flooded with the deluge of popular energy, a deluge that listens to nothing but its own undulating waves. Author Yanis Iqbal is an independent researcher and freelance writer based in Aligarh, India and can be contacted at [email protected]. His articles have been published in the USA, UK, Canada, Australia, New Zealand, India and several countries of Latin America. Archives March 2024
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |
Archives
September 2024
Categories
All
|
RSS Feed