Revista NÚMERO 8 | JULIO-DICIEMBRE 2011 | ISSN: 0718-655X DOSSIER “Poder y soberanía: Lecturas teológico-políticas” Pléyade Ely Orrego Teología Política: El nuevo paradigma de la soberanía y el poder ARTÍCULOS John P. McCormick Del Catolicismo Romano al Leviatán: Sobre las disyunciones teológico-políticas en el pensamiento weimariano de Schmitt Nathan Van Camp Hannah Arendt and Political Theology: A Displaced Encounter Daniel Nichanian Carl Schmitt, Saint Paul and Paradoxical Truth Tomas Borovinsky Escatología, política y administración a partir de la obra de Alexandre Kojève: El problema del “fin de la historia” Emmanuel Taub Universalidad y mesianismo: Para una teología política desde el pensamiento de Hermann Cohen Rodrigo Karmy El ángel de la modernidad. La figura del Ángel en el pensamiento contemporáneo Manfred Svensson Hobbes, Spinoza y Locke sobre la herejía Emanuele Coccia El mito de la biografía, o sobre la imposibilidad de toda teología política Fabián Ludueña Poder Pneumático. Una reconsideración del problema teológico-político Alfonso Galindo Por una política sin teología política Entrevistas Miguel Vatter Pensar la política desde la Teología Política (Entrevistado por Ely Orrego) Samuel Weber Theology, Economy and Critique (Interviewed by Diego Rossello) Reseñas Pablo Pavez Qué hacer con el vivir… (Qué significa volver a vivir). Lecturas y pre-textos a propósito de “Políticas de la interrupción. Ensayos sobre Giorgio Agamben”. Rodrigo Karmy (ed.), Ediciones Escaparate. 2011. James Martel Miguel Vatter, ed. “Crediting God: Sovereignty and Religion in the Age of Global Capitalism.” Fordham University Press. 2011. REVISTA PLÉYADE 8/ ISSN: 0718-655X / JULIO-DICIEMBRE 2011 / PP. 19-35 Hannah Arendt and Political Theology: A Displaced Encounter* Nathan Van Camp** University of Antwerp A B S T R A C T Despite the recent revival of interest in Weimar political theology to rethink the relationship between religion and politics, one name is hardly ever mentioned in these debates: Hannah Arendt. Arendt’s apparent silence on this issue is peculiar because not only did she intellectually mature in the Weimar context and did she personally know many of the protagonists of the Weimar political theology debate, but also and especially because Carl Schmitt’s famous thesis that all political concepts are in reality secularized theological concepts is obviously diametrically opposed to Arendt’s idea of a self-contained politics. This paper argues that the reason why Arendt did not intervene directly in this debate is that she was mainly concerned with deconstructing the more encompassing claim that politics requires a force external to it, the origins of which she traces back to Plato’s attempt to transform political action into a mode of fabrication. It will be shown that the main target of Arendt’s political thought is therefore not political theology, but what we could tentatively call “political technology.” Keywords: Hannah Arendt, Weimar Political Theology, Secularism, Martin Heidegger, Technology. * Paper received on September 7th, 2011 and accepted on December 27th, 2011. An earlier version of this essay was presented at the annual meeting of the American Political Science Association in Seattle. The author wishes to thank the discussant of the political theology panel, Mark Redhead (California State University at Fullerton), for his useful comments on the original manuscript. ** Nathan Van Camp is currently a research fellow at the Research Foundation - Flanders (FWO) and is affiliated to the Institute of Jewish Studies and the Department of Philosophy, both at the University of Antwerp (Belgium). His main research interests include continental philosophy of technology, critical theory, political theory and Jewish thought. He has published extensively on the work of Bernard Stiegler and bioethical issues. Currently he is preparing a study on the reception of Heidegger’s philosophy of technology in the work of some of his former Jewish students including Hannah Arendt, Herbert Marcuse, Günther Anders and Hans Jonas. E-Mail: [email protected] 19 HANNAH ARENDT AND POLITICAL THEOLOGY I. Introduction Recent years have seen a rather unexpected revival of interest in the relationship between religion and politics. The confidence liberal democracy gained after the collapse of communism soon suffered a serious blow following the resurgence of various religious movements reclaiming their rightful place in the public sphere or even openly declaring their hostility to the secular political order. So, while the beginning of the 90s witnessed a sudden upsurge of optimism about a future era of global stability, prosperity and democratization, even leading some to herald “the end of history,”1 the outburst of religious violence in the Balkans, the Middle East, India and many other places in the world and, especially, the events of 9/11 and its aftermath made it clear that the defeat of the socialist alternative did not lead to the abandonment of eschatological hopes altogether. The sudden return of the religious on the political scene urged scholars to seriously reconsider the Enlightenment view that the forces unleashed by modernity would eventually totally deprive religion of its power to capture the political imagination. More specifically, the question was raised whether it had not been an illusion to believe that one could have a political order that is not authorized by some transcendent absolute. Perhaps, then, theocracy merely represents liberal democracy’s repressed double that appears on the surface as a kind of deus ex machina at times when it becomes manifest that democratic rule is actually founded on a set of aporetic concepts. A large part of this debate has been framed in terms of what is called “political theology.” But although, as Heinrich Meier’s argues, “political theology is as old as faith in revelation, and will continue to exist (…) as long as faith in God who demands obedience continues to exist,”2 there is nevertheless clearly a focus on how this concept gained currency in the writings of Weimar intellectuals such as Franz Rosenzweig, Ernst Kantorowicz, Ernst Bloch, Walter Benjamin, Leo Strauss and Karl Barth. The revival of interest in Weimar political theology can be partly explained by the fact that certain analogies can be made between the socio-political and intellectual climates surrounding the Weimar Republic and our own era. Some radical thinkers, such as the Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben, see clear signs that liberal democratic regimes are increasingly organizing 1 Francis Fukuyama, The End of History and the Last Man (New York: The Free Press, 1992). Interestingly, Fukuyama’s recent waning optimism about a global victory of political liberalism and the free market system is not so much inspired by the return of the religious, but by the prospect of a sweeping biotechnological revolution. Fukuyama’s belief that only a strengthening of state powers could safeguard society from the perils of comprehensive genetic engineering nevertheless shows just how far he has drifted away from the position he originally defended in The End of History. See: Francis Fukuyama, Our Posthuman Future. Consequences of the Biotechnology Revolution (London: Profile Books, 2002). 2 Heinrich Meier, “What is Political Theology?” Interpretation 30 (2002): 79. 20 NATHAN VAN CAMP what he calls a “permanent state of exception” as to wage war on their internal and external enemies outside the boundaries of positive law.3 Such an approach allows him, for example, to draw an analogy between the enactment of the US Patriot Act and the Nazi regime’s suspension of the fundamental rights guaranteed by the Weimar constitution or, even more radical, between detention camps such as Guantanamo Bay and Abu Ghraib and the Nazi extermination camps. While this may sound too dramatic or even completely outrageous, one should nonetheless bear in mind that, today, democratically elected regimes are, often under the banner of “peace and security,” involved in armed conflicts all around the globe and that there are currently more stateless and displaced people than during World War II. The relative ease with which the Nazi party could dismantle the legal framework of the liberal Weimar Republic and establish a totalitarian regime should in any case remind us of the inherent fragility of the liberal democratic system and the political and civil rights it is supposed to safeguard. It is, however, no exaggeration to assert that it is particularly the current popularity of the writings of the German theorist of law and one time Nazi supporter Carl Schmitt which has fueled the current revival of interest in Weimar political theology. Arguing that all politics is merely the continuation of theology by other means, Schmitt famously contended that “all significant concepts of the modern theory of the state are secularized theological concepts.”4 Although Schmitt denied that the juridico-political discourse can be described in directly theological terms, he was convinced that the liberals’ denial of any connection between these two discourses made them ill-equipped to counter the threat of factional violence or even civil war that impended over the profoundly divided Weimar Republic. Schmitt was especially worried that the liberals’ ignorance of the possibility of the arrival of some exceptionally threatening event kept them from developing a consistent theory of emergency powers that could protect the legal order in times of extreme peril. More specifically, Schmitt pointed out two fundamental defects in the liberal theory of the state.5 Firstly, certain of its essential principles, such as the separation of powers and the system of checks and balances, impede the state from clearly deciding who has the power to proclaim a state of exception and take the necessary measures to restore law and order. Secondly, since the exception is that which cannot 3 See especially: Giorgio Agamben, The State of Exception, trans. Kevin Attell (Chicago: The university of Chicago Press, 2005). 4 Carl Schmitt, Political Theology. Four Chapters on the Concept of Sovereignty, trans. G Schwab (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 2005), 36. 5 Both critiques are captured in the following quote: “The essence of liberalism is negotiation, a cautious half measure, in the hope that the definitive dispute, the decisive bloody battle, can be transformed into a parliamentary battle and permit the decision to be suspended forever in an everlasting discussion.” (Schmitt, Political Theology, 63) 21 HANNAH ARENDT AND POLITICAL THEOLOGY be subsumed under a preexisting legal norm, it is impossible to appeal to codified law to determine in advance what must done to suppress extremely dangerous threats to the legal order. The first line of Schmitt’s Political Theology, “[s]overeign is he who decides on the exception,”6 should be read as containing a remedy for both these defects of the liberal state. By reintroducing a concept of sovereignty that explicitly assumes the existence of a human sovereign ruler who can proclaim the state of exception and, if necessary, suspend the law, Schmitt claimed to have found a viable alternative for liberalism’s bureaucratic rule-bound formalism. It is here that the paradigm of political theology shows its pertinence to political theory. Since “the exception in jurisprudence is analogous to the miracle in theology,”7 for Schmitt, it can only be met by an equally powerful sovereign decision, which, “looked at normatively, emanates from nothingness”8 and hence resembles divine creation ex nihilo. It is striking to note, however, that one name is hardly ever mentioned in reconstructions of the Weimar political theology debate. Although probably the most important political thinker to have emerged out of the intellectual environment of Weimar Germany, Hannah Arendt is usually not considered relevant to this issue. Admittedly, Arendt was considerably younger than most of the protagonists mentioned earlier. Still, given her unremitting defense of the autonomy of the political, it seems downright implausible that she would not have been interested in a thesis such as Schmitt’s which implies that modern politics is merely theology dressed up in secular clothes. Moreover, Arendt was personally acquainted with some of the debate’s main figures such as Walter Benjamin and Leo Strauss, which makes it even more unlikely that she would not have been familiar with at least the main positions in this debate. It remains nevertheless telling that recent tentative attempts to explore the relationship between Arendt and thinkers such as Strauss and Schmitt are compelled to frame their stories in terms of an “unspoken” or “hidden” dialogue.9 Peter Eli Gordon has therefore correctly observed that such comparisons are bound to remain speculative as long as one does not first consider a more obvious question: “Why does Arendt’s conception of political life not conform to the terms of political theological debate?”10 We will argue here that the reason why Arendt didn’t confront these theologico-political alternatives 6 Schmitt, Political Theology, 5. 7 Schmitt, Political Theology, 36. 8 Schmitt, Political Theology, 31-32. 9 See for example: Samuel Moyn, “Hannah Arendt on the secular,” New German Critique 35 (2008): 72; Ronald Beiner “Hannah Arendt and Leo Strauss: the uncommenced dialogue,” Political Theory 18 (1990), 239; Andreas Kalyvas, Democracy and the Politics of the Extraordinary. Max Weber, Carl Schmitt, and Hannah Arendt (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2008), 194. 10 Peter Eli Gordon, “The concept of the apolitical: German Jewish thought and Weimar political theology,” Social Research 74 (2007): 856. 22 NATHAN VAN CAMP head-on because she was mainly concerned with deconstructing the more encompassing claim that politics requires a force external to it, the origins of which she traces back to Plato’s attempt to transform political action into a mode of fabrication. It will be therefore be made plausible that the main target of Arendt’s critique of Western political thought is not political theology, but what we could tentatively call “political technology.” II. The Problem of the Absolute Gordon suggests that the beginnings of an answer to the question why Arendt didn’t directly address the claim of political theology “can only be found by revisiting some of the political-theological alternatives that appeared on the scene during Arendt’s formative years in Weimar Germany.”11 However, reading the opening lines of ‘Religion and Politics,’12 a short essay Arendt wrote in the early 50s, makes one think otherwise. Here we see clearly that for Arendt is was not the Weimar debate but the then much discussed theory that communism is a secular or political religion that “brought ‘religion’ back into the realm of public-political affairs” and “put the almost forgotten problem of the relationship between religion and politics once more on the agenda of political science.”13 It therefore seems more reasonable to assume that the beginnings of an answer to Gordon’s question is contained in this essay. As a response to the question as to whether the struggle between the West and communism is basically religious in nature, Arendt argues that those who consider communism a “political religion” or a “secular religion” have failed to grasp both the essence of totalitarianism and the political meaning of secularism. Arendt thinks that Erik Vögelin’s historical approach to this issue as elaborated in his The New Science of Politics14 overlooked the novelty of communist regime’s appeal to the “Law of History” as the extra- political source of its authority. In ‘Ideology and Terror,’ the concluding chapter to her magnum opus The Origins of Totalitarianism,15 Arendt argued that the Law of History which this regime pretends to strictly obey is not the secular version of revealed divine law because, firstly, the law of History is not considered permanent or eternal but unfolds historically and, secondly, because the law of History is applied directly to men without first 11 Gordon, “The Concept of the Apolitical,” 856. 12 Hannah Arendt, “Religion and Politics,” in: Essays on Understanding, 1930-1954: Formation, Exile, and Totalitarianism, ed. J. Kohn (New York: Schocken Books, 2005), 368-390. 13 Arendt, “Religion and Politics,” 368. 14 Eric Vöegelin, The New Science of Politics (Chicago & London: The University of Chicago Press, 1952), especially 107-132. 15 Hannah Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism (New York: Schocken Books, 2004), 593-616. 23 HANNAH ARENDT AND POLITICAL THEOLOGY being translated into positive laws. To call communism a political religion merely because it also invokes a source of authority that is not man-made is therefore, in Arendt words, “an entirely undeserved compliment.”16 Such a misunderstanding could only arise because we are accustomed to think that a political order necessarily requires religious sanctification in some form or another. But, Arendt suggests, “the long alliance between religion and authority does not necessarily mean that the concept of authority is itself of a religious nature.”17 Hence, what the rise of totalitarianism brought to light regarding this issue is not that it is simply impossible to imagine a political order that doesn’t find its ultimate source of authority in religion, as Vögelin argues, but rather that it seems even more difficult for a secular politics to discard the more basic requirement of an extra-political absolute, a requirement that religion also meets. Arendt’s definition of secularism in the political sense is quite straightforward. It means “no more than that religious creeds and institutions have no publicly binding authority and that, conversely, political life has no religious sanction.”18 Historically, the alliance between church and state was only forged after the downfall of the Roman Empire when the church assumed Rome’s political heritage. The church left political power to the worldly sovereign ruler, but gave itself the authority that was previously the perquisite of the Roman Senate. It was the great achievement of the French Revolution to break this alliance between church and state and to open up the possibility of a genuine secular politics. The French revolutionaries, however, fell back on a religious vocabulary at the very moment when they thought they could separate religion and politics once and for all. Robespierre’s cult of the Supreme Being and the more than obvious connection between the notion of the General Will and that of God’s Will are only the most unequivocal examples of the fact that the question of a divine absolute is not so easily disposed of. With reference to Rousseau, Arendt points out in On Revolution that even the French revolutionaries thus eventually came to realize once more that “the trouble was that to put the law above man and thus to establish the validity of man-made laws, il faudrait des dieux, ‘one actually would need gods.’”19 But again, far from accepting that such failed attempts to found a purely secular political order attest to the inescapability of political theology, Arendt maintains that what was bound to appear in revolutions was not the problem of a religious absolute but the question of the absolute as such. If she thought that the political catastrophes of the modern age represented the final stage of a long-standing marriage between politics and the idea of the absolute, a 16 Arendt, “Religion and Politics,” 371. 17 Arendt, “Religion and Politics,” 372. 18 Arendt, “Religion and Politics,” 372. 19 Hannah Arendt, On Revolution (London: Penguin, 1973), 184. 24 NATHAN VAN CAMP marriage which for several centuries was sanctified by the Christian church, then the key question is rather how and why the idea that the political realm requires external foundations was originally forged. III. Political Technology In her essay ‘What is Authority?’20 Arendt argues that if the word and concept of authority are Roman in origin, it was Plato who in The Republic first introduced the idea that the political realm should be ruled by a force external to it. Plato’s decision to write a political treatise on the ideal form of government was largely motivated by his experience of Socrates’ trial and execution. For Plato this event showed that persuasion, the common Greek way of handling public affairs, was an unreliable method to incite citizens to act according to the good. Plato suggested that the compelling force of self-evident truths offers a much more effective principle for guiding men. True statements are beyond dispute and opinion and can therefore be invoked to enforce obedience without endless discussions and without the need to resort to external means of violence. According to Plato only the philosopher is capable of perceiving the truth, so it was clear to him that only philosophers are eligible to rule the polis. Plato’s philosopher- king is not a tyrant though. A tyrant rules in accordance with his own will, while the philosopher-king remains bound by a force that transcends him and the realm of human affairs altogether. In other words, the compelling power does not lie in the person of the philosopher-king, but in the ideas of reason which the latter is able to perceive. This is the lesson contained in Plato’s famous allegory of the cave. The philosopher is the one who is able to escape from the dark cave and finally perceive the clear sky and contemplate the ideas as the essences of all beings. He only becomes the philosopher-king when he returns to the cave and uses his knowledge of the ideas to rule his fellows who are still bound to their shady existence inside the cave. It is in this sense that Arendt can conclude that “the essential characteristic of specifically authoritarian forms of government –that the source of their authority, which legitimates the exercise of power, must be beyond the sphere of power and, like the law of nature or the commands of God, must not be man-made– goes back to this applicability of the ideas in Plato’s political philosophy.”21 It is almost impossible to imagine a more plain denial of the timelessness of political theology. Not only does Arendt argue that authoritarian rule, of which the alliance between church and state was merely one historical 20 Hannah Arendt, “What is authority ?” in: Between Past and Future, intro. J. Kohn (London: Penguin, 2006), 106-115. 21 Arendt, “What is Authority?,” 110. 25 HANNAH ARENDT AND POLITICAL THEOLOGY manifestation, was first introduced to the tradition of Western political thought in Plato’s The Republic, she also points out that the idea that politics cannot function without some form of religious sanctification can be traced back to Plato’s invention of a system of rewards and punishment in the afterlife as a deterrent to impose transcendent standards on the multitude.22 The belief in some form of continuation of “life” after death is of course as old as man himself, but it was Plato’s brilliance to give this idea an explicitly political function. Since he realized that only the few would be capable of grasping the truth of the ideas, he invented the doctrine of hell and described it as a place where those would be punished who do not voluntary submit themselves to the authority of the ideas. It is therefore no surprise, Arendt argues, that it was Plato who coined the word “theology” and made it “part and parcel of ‘political science’.”23 In The Human Condition Arendt acutely remarks that “the greater part of political philosophy since Plato could easily be interpreted as various attempts to find theoretical foundations and practical ways for an escape from politics altogether.”24 The frailty of human affairs, which according to Arendt finds its clearest expression in the inherent unpredictability and irreversibility of political action, has always perplexed the Western philosophical tradition. Because political action, the sharing of words and deeds, always goes on between a plurality of actors, its main outcome is irreducibly uncertain. The one who acts is “never merely a ‘doer’ but always and at the same time a sufferer,”25 Arendt is never tired of repeating, by which she means that the one who initiates an action is never sure in advance that he or she will accomplish what he or she had in mind. It is this contingency that permeates the public realm which has always baffled the tradition of political philosophy and which incited Plato to look for a more solid ground for political action in the first place. We have seen that Plato attempted to escape this predicament by submitting political action to the authority of the ideas of reason. What is even more important, though, is that in ‘What is Authority?’ Arendt also points out that Plato was heavily inspired by the figure of the craftsman when he suggested that the use of ideas as standards or yardsticks for behavior provides a way to put politics on more solid grounds. When producing an object the craftsman is also guided by an inner idea or blueprint of the artifact he wants to create. Moreover, in contrast to the actor who is imbedded in a context of plurality and who is therefore never sure about the outcome of his actions, the craftsman controls the production process from the beginning until the 22 See: Arendt, “Religion and Politics,” 380-383 and Arendt, “What is authority?,” 108-111 and 129-135. 23 Arendt, “What is Authority?,” 131. 24 Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition (Chicago: The University of Chicago Press, 1998), 222. 25 Arendt, The Human Condition, 190. 26 NATHAN VAN CAMP end. Therefore, Arendt writes, in Plato “[t]he ideas become the unwavering, ‘absolute’ standards for political and moral behavior and judgment in the same sense that the ‘idea’ of a bed in general is the standard for making and judging the fitness of all particular manufactured beds.”26 Two years later, in The Human Condition, Arendt’s critique of Plato’s suppression of political action will be extended to a critique of the entire tradition of Western political thought. In The Human Condition Arendt distinguishes between the vita contemplativa and the vita activa, in which she in turn distinguishes the three fundamental human activities: labor, work, and action. Whereas in the ancient Greek city state action was considered to be the highest human faculty, the philosophical and Christian traditions’ higher estimate of contemplation degraded the vita activa to a secondary position and blurred the distinctions within the vita activa. The modern reversal of the contemplative life and the active life didn’t, however, rehabilitate political action to the primary status it formerly enjoyed, but merely made work the highest activity of man. This set-up makes one suppose that contemplation and work derive from completely different or even incongruent experiences, which might explain why Arendt in ‘What is Authority?’ still cautiously suggests that Plato was merely helped by the analogy of the craftsman in his attempt to bring action under the authority of the ideas. In The Human Condition, however, Arendt goes one step further and endorses the view that contemplation as such derives from the production experience: It is not wonder that overcomes and throws man into motionlessness, but it is through the conscious cessation of activity, the activity of making, that the contemplative state is reached. (…) [T]he very fact that the philosopher’s speechless wonder seemed to be an experience reserved for the few, while the craftsmen’s contemplative glance was known by many, weighed heavily in favor of a contemplation primarily derived from the experiences of homo faber.27 Dana Villa has convincingly shown that Arendt’s insight that contemplation is merely an epiphenomenon of the production experience is much indebted to her former teacher Martin Heidegger.28 From the early 20s on, Heidegger argued that for the metaphysical tradition as a whole “the primordial sense of being is being-produced.”29 Heidegger’s project of the destruction of 26 Arendt, “What is Authority?,” 110. 27 Arendt, The Human Condition, 303-304. 28 Dana Villa, Arendt and Heidegger. The Fate of the Political (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1996). 29 Martin Heidegger, “Phenomenological Interpretations in Connection with Aristotle,” in: Supplements: From the Earliest Essays to Being and Time and Beyond, ed. J. van Buren (Albany: SUNY Press, 2002), 144. 27