Traditionally, transitional justice has referred to that field of theoretical scholarship that proffers recuperative strategies for political societies divided by a history of violence. Through the establishment of truth commissions, public confessionals and reparative measures, transitional justice regimes have sought to establish restorative conditions that might help reconcile historical antagonists both to each other and to the trauma of their shared past. Because of some of the theoretical lapses in this scholarship some have turned recently to the field of radical (...) democratic and ‘new pluralist’ thought – and especially to agonistic literature – to foreground a theory of post-conflict reconciliation based not on the principles of the sublimation of difference, but rather the perpetual deferral of accord. This essay works both to underscore that effort, as well as to problematize it. Through unorthodox readings of Giorgio Agamben, Jean Améry and Sheldon Wolin, the essay argues that an emphasis on messianicity as the temporal mode of political repair is ultimately less productive for what I call an agonistics of reconciliation than a more nuanced approach to what Wolin calls ‘fugitive democracy’. Where the former is allied with a problematic politics of mutual respect, the latter affirms a more germane politics of abiding resentment. In the end, a startling conclusion is drawn from reading agonistic reconciliation through Wolin: democracy may be a political experience reserved for scenes of transitional justice alone. (shrink)

This book reflects on the variety of ways in which mourning affects political and social life. Through the narrative of the contributors, the book demonstrates how mourning is intertwined with politics and how politics involves a struggle over which losses and whose lives can, or should, be mourned.

Most contemporary political theories of sovereignty – from Giorgio Agamben to Achille Mbembe – have argued that the emergency powers claimed by the Bush administration under the auspices of the War on Terror epitomized what Carl Schmitt calls a state of exception. If so, I argue, perhaps it is time for new visions of sovereignty to emerge, ones attendant to the eccentricities of the present conjuncture. Occupy Wall Street and the Arab Spring are but two obvious examples of counterpublics that (...) seem to have presented new modalities of sovereign life worth reflecting upon. Hardly states of exception, these are scenes of sovereignty that are more fraught and precarious, more democratic. I argue that the theories of sovereignty of George Bataille and Frantz Fanon may hold clues for coming to terms with these new sovereign scenes. Though often under-emphasized in the scholarly literature on Bataille and Fanon, for both thinkers sovereignty is a condition of existence, an expression of a surreal mode of esthetic experience and poetic beauty. I argue that drawing attention to the comparison of the political thought of Bataille and Fanon, and especially to the value of surrealism for contemporary political theory generally, holds promise for those of us interested in challenging the Schmittian consensus. At stake is a refreshed understanding of sovereignty, not as norm or exception, but as a condition of political life lived by everyday subjects caught in a surreal state in-between. (shrink)

Hannah Arendt’s work on violence is bedeviled by a series of paradoxes. On the one hand, Arendt is clear in arguing that violence is utterly powerless and yet, on the other hand, she is equally clear in her portrayal of beginnings as necessarily violent. These two positions conflict insofar as Arendt holds beginnings to be the source of all power. Thus power and violence are at once opposed and yet alloyed. This tension is deepened by yet another. For Arendt, action, (...) of which power is composed, would not be possible without the twofold human faculties of promising and forgiveness. Promising undoes the hold of the future on the present by pacifying its unpredictability, while forgiveness loosens the grip of the past by alleviating its irreversibility. The trouble, however, is that Arendt argues that the power of forgiveness stems from its unpredictability, and unpredictability is precisely that which promising is meant to thwart. Taking these two paradoxes together one might say that Arendt, however unwittingly, leaves us promising never to forgive. This article works to flesh these paradoxes out. It also contextualizes Arendt’s paradoxes in terms of the literature that claims democratic political life is beset by tragedy. In the end, I argue that, following Arendt, democracy is ultimately about learning to live with the vivid disquiet of the miracle of paradox. (shrink)