Eiland 2017
Eiland 2017
Howard Eiland
Abbau der Gewalt. This was the projected title of a chapter in the
never-completed book on political theory with which Walter Benjamin was
occupied in the chaotic postwar years 191921, and which was to focus on
the problem of violence, Gewalt, in relation to the idea of justice. We have
today one prime textual witness to the character of this unrealized Politics,
namely, the enigmatic but much discussed essay of 1921, Zur Kritik der
Gewalt (Critique of Violence), which may or may not be identical with the
chapter proposed under the title Abbau der Gewalt.1 Additionally, there
are several fragmentary writings from this period constellated about the
central remnant and shedding light on some of its thematic and terminologi-
cal mysteries. With its invocation of an explicitly revolutionary imperative in
the face of manifest historical crisis, Benjamins essay, we can say, mounts
a simultaneously destructive and constructive critique of both militarism
and pacifism in its pursuit of a just alternative to legal violence or force of
law. At stake in the essay for us today, I shall suggest, is not only recogni-
tion of the often unapparent militarizing of knowledgewhat in every case
presupposes the concept of knowledge as possession that Benjamin rig-
orously distinguishes from the idea of truth.2 Also at stake is the reawak-
ening of a certain countervailing militancythe challenge, if you will, of
conceiving a higher nonviolent and expiatory violence. This is an educa-
tional challenge essentially, calling for a kind of educational violenceone
directed first of all, as is evident, against the very principle of noncontradic-
tion and the complacencies stemming from it. For there is a Benjaminian
logic of contradiction: truth has to do with what he famously once called a
contradictory and mobile whole (Benjamin and Scholem 1989: 1089).
As he puts it in one of the related fragments from the postwar period, you
cannot fight violence with violenceeven though violence is never com-
pletely absent from life and is even present in original ways as ursprng-
liche Gewalt, the originary violence exemplified, he says, in acts of defense;
in the end, it becomes a matter of finding the right kind of violence with
which to fight violence. He goes on to ask about the possibility of security
without legal constraint: The question arises: how then are people living
in a free community to be secure in their lives? In such a community, it is
inclination alone that disarms the evil deed, although originary violence as
Violence) and Teleologie ohne Endzweck (Teleology without Goal), the latter pre-
sumably unwritten, while the third part, which likewise remained unwritten, was supposed
to comprise a philosophical analysis of Paul Scheerbarts 1913 asteroid novel Lesabn-
dio. See Benjamin 1996a (101, 102n, 109, 111n, 119, 131). Further, in 1920, Benjamin refers
to an essay of his entitled alternately Gewalt und Leben (Violence and Life, Benjamin
1996a [90]) and Leben und Gewalt (Benjamin 1996b [232]); it too is lost, although the
fragment printed in Benjamin 1989 (791), and discussed below in the text, may have
formed part of it. Not surviving either is Benjamins long, unpublished review of Ernst
Blochs Spirit of Utopia (1918). Benjamins conversations with Bloch, beginning in 1918,
helped shape his political thinking.
2. As formulated in Origin of the German Trauerspiel (Ursprung des deutschen Trau-
erspiels, written 192325, published 1928): Truth is not an unveiling that destroys the
mystery [Geheimnis] but rather revelation that does justice to it [die ihm gerecht wird ]
(Benjamin 1977b: 31). Concerning the distinction between knowledge and truth, see in
particular sections 3, 4, and 6. See also Benjamin 1996b (27879).
such is not at all impugned (Benjamin 1989: 791). Education, then, would
be the key to free communitythe community of awakened individual con-
sciences. The freethinking moral education of inclination would be presup-
posed as political action: that is its constructive critical violence and trans-
formative potential; for criticism is a moral affair [moralische Sache] and
only one who can destroy can criticize (Benjamin 1996b: 460). Thus, in
the postwar fragment Benjamin can ask rhetorically Where does violence
ever stop? and can refer coolly to the salutary terrorist praxis of a certain
theological-political anarchism in its abrogation (Abschaffung) of adminis-
trative violence (Benjamin 1989: 791). In Critique of Violence, it is the myth
of possession that, in the name of justice, would be liquidated through what
he formally designates educative violence (erzieherische Gewalt). The
latter, in its expiating moment, is regarded as a manifestation of divine
violence (gttliche Gewalt) or, in other words, as a giftand therefore a
problem, a task.
The experimental nature of this project should be emphasized at the
outset, so as to counter any impression of willful paradox or worse. It was a
matter of political action without political goals in the usual sensepolitical
action as an end in itself and a corrective to political goals. A well-known
letter of May 29, 1926, from Benjamin to Gershom Scholem, illuminates
or at least touches onthis notion of pure immediate action that, as will be
shown, informs the political thinking of five years earlier: I am not ashamed
of my early anarchism but consider anarchist methods to be useless,
Communist goals to be nonsense and nonexistent. This does not dimin-
ish the value of Communist action [Aktion] one iota, because it is the cor-
rective to its goals and because there are no meaningfully political goals
(Benjamin 1994: 301).3 Earlier in the letter, he posits a singular unstable
identity between religious and political Observanzan identity that mani-
fests itself only in the sudden paradoxical changeover [Umschlag] of one
form of observance into the other (regardless of which direction), given the
indispensable prerequisite that every consideration of action proceed ruth-
lessly enough, and radically in its own terms. Precisely for this reason, the
task is not to decide once and for all, but to decide at every moment (300).
In light of the immediate, moment-to-moment destabilizing occa-
sioned by this simultaneously groundless and sacralizingundogmatically
sacralizingpolitical observance, what, then, would it mean to speak of
3. This might be compared to the young Benjamins more pragmatic definition of poli-
tics, at one point, as the art of choosing the lesser evil (Benjamin 1995: 8283 [letter of
January 7, 1913]).
4. See Evans (1990) on Husserls idea of deconstruction. The use of the term Abbau in
the analysis of perception by Husserl and his assistants goes back to seminar work in
1907, if not earlier, according to Chernavin 2011 (23n26). Heidegger makes pointed use
of the term in a lecture course of 1927 on phenomenology: Construction in philosophy
is necessarily destruction, that is to say, a de-constructing of traditional concepts [Abbau
des berlieferten] carried out in a historical recursion to the tradition. And this is not a
negation of the tradition . . . ; quite the reverse, it signifies precisely a positive appropria-
tion of tradition (1982: 23). The reciprocity of Abbauen and Vorbauen (building forth, pro-
viding for, guarding against) is formulated by Heidegger 2016 (42) in connection with the
new beginning in the early thirties. The term Abbau, signifying deconstruction of the
successively overlaid epochal structures disguising originary being, is found in texts of
later Heidegger as well.
5. I believe this uneasy, enigmatic, terribly equivocal text is haunted in advance (but can
one say in advance here?) by the theme of radical destruction, extermination, total anni-
hilation . . . (Derrida 2002: 258). One must underscore two of [the essays] traits: on the
one hand, a terrible ethico-political ambiguity, which at bottom reflects the terror that con-
stitutes, in fact, the theme of this text; and on the other hand . . . this heart or courage of
a thinking that knows there is no justesse, no justice, no responsibility except in exposing
oneself to all risks, beyond certainty and good conscience (287).
8. See Arendt 1969 (3556) on violence as distinguished from power, force, strength,
and authority. On violence as violation, see Weber 1991 (1182).
9. The question of Darstellung is posed at the very beginning of Benjamins Origin of the
German Trauerspiel: It is peculiar to philosophical writing to be confronted anew at every
turn with the question of presentation [Frage der Darstellung] (Benjamin 1977b: 27).
10. Kant refers to the sublime yet never wholly attainable idea of the ethical common-
wealth as a union of hearts, wherein reigns the free duty of virtue as opposed to the
coercive duty of law ([1934] 1960: 9093). Duty as such is required in view of the wicked-
ness of the human heart (50).
11. See Hamacher 2000. Hamachers title Afformative, Strike is derived from speech-
act theory: the proletarian general strike is neither a performative nor a constative but an
afformative, in the sense of a nonaction and nonpositing in which nothing is produced or
projected. Lawmaking violence, on the other hand, is per formative.
basing himself on an erroneous claim made by Jrgen Habermas in a 1987 essay, The
Horrors of Autonomy: Carl Schmitt in English. See Moran and Salzani 2015 (4, 11n18).
Secondly, at the end of Force of Law, Derrida writes in regard to the bloodless expia-
tory violence that Benjamin associates with Gods destruction of the company of Korah
in Numbers 16: When one thinks of the gas chambers and the cremation ovens, this
allusion to an extermination that would be expiatory because bloodless must cause one
to shudder (Derrida 2002: 298). His view of Benjamins idea of divine violence as pos-
sibly prefiguring the Final Solution, whereby the concentration camps would be seen as
the instrument of Gods holy wrath, was quickly labeled a peculiar misunderstanding
(Agamben 1998: 64); as discussed in the text below, it surely remains a provocation.
Finally, in connection with the idea of the mystical foundation of authority, which he
takes from Michel de Montaigne, Derrida refers (2002: 280) to a passage in Benjamins
1928 Origin of the German Trauerspiel, section 33: spirit is the capacity to exercise dic-
tatorship (Benjamin 1977b: 98). This is a thesis expounded in connection with the figure
of the courtier in the baroque age; it seems misleading to associate this notion of spirit, as
though directly expressive of Benjamins own position, with Critique of Violencewhich
is not to deny the profound connections between the essay and the Trauerspiel book.
13. Is it ever possible to say that an action is not only legal but just . . . , [t]hat such a per-
son is just, a decision is just? Is it ever possible to say, I know that I am just? I would want
to show that such confidence is essentially impossible (Derrida 2002: 245). From this
point of view, justice would be the experience of what we are unable to experience. . . .
Justice is an experience of the impossible (244). Compare redemption of the unredeem-
able (Benjamin 1994: 34 [June 23, 1913]).
14. See Haverkamp 1991 (116971) and 1994 (178, 18384n37) on Benjamins use of
Hermann Cohen in Critique of Violence. Cohen mentions the biblical band of Korah,
cited by Benjamin in the essay, in his chapter Justice, in Religion of Reason (Cohen
1995: 431).
15. See Cohen 1904 on aphorism (506), on ambiguity (511), and on freedom from skep-
ticism (599).
stipulates Cohen, and truth is realized for the human being as an ascent
out of myththat is, as the gradually achieved rational correlation of logic
and ethics, nature and human will. In Religion of Reason, Cohen traces
the painful process by which ancient Israel moved from ritual sacrifice to
prayer and repentance, and thus to a sense of inwardness and individu-
ality. (It is basically the reverse of the Nietzschean view of postexilic Juda-
ism as representing cultural decline from the age of kings.) Myth originates
in the notion of fate, Cohen argues, and fate turns on the mechanisms of
guilt.16 If awareness of guilt individuates the living, one can say that ethical
motives are already slumbering in myth (Cohen 1904: 55556). Neverthe-
less, purification of the mythic precipitatethe concept of purity signaling
an uneasy convergence of the Jewish and the Kantian (the phenomeno-
logical)is a never-ending task, because the rudiments of myth remain in
all idealization. The idea of God, then, is for Cohen an originative principle,
a principle of actualization and continuous renewal. Such is also the prin-
ciple of selfhood.
The ego, Kant had argued, is no elementary particle that preexists
the act of thinking but is always already constituted in and through that
act. The self is essentially process, task, ordeal; we are ever on the way to
ourselves. The fixing of the self in identity philosophy, and in its practical
consequences, becomes the great danger for ethics; authentic selfhood
must somehow defend against armed self-interest (Cohen 1904: 1112,
582). In his Ethics, Cohen distinguishes various stages in this destructive-
constructive penetration of the individual, the cosmopolitan realization of
self beyond egological or atomistic autonomy, and these include the stages
of self-lawgiving and self-preservation (Selbsterhaltung). Here, very likely,
is the immediate cue to Benjamins binary in Critique of Violence, that of
law-instating and law-preserving, constituent and constituted, powers; the
concepts are transposed from the ethical-psychological to a juridical and
16. Benjamin cites Cohens Ethik (chap. 7, sec. 3) in bringing together myth with the
intrinsic ambiguity of fate (Benjamin 1996b: 249). Cohen argues there that myth has
its origin in the concept of fate, and at the core of fate is the concept of guilt (Cohen
1904: 343). In Fate and Character (1919), Benjamin similarly associates the befalling
of fate with misfortune and guilt (Unglck und Schuld ): the order of fate, which can be
apprehended only through signs, not in itself, is the guilt context of the living [Schuld-
zusammenhang des Lebendigen]. . . . It is not therefore really man who has a fate; rather,
the subject of fate is indeterminable. . . . It is never man but only the life [das bloe Leben]
in him that [fate] strikes. . . . [Time in fate] is not an autonomous time, but is parasitically
dependent on the time of a higher, less natural life (Benjamin 1996b: 201, 204). Compare
Benjamin 1977b (12930 [sec. 47]).
historical realm, where they become vehicles of mythic force rather than
stages of ethical edification. There is no pure will in Benjamin and therefore
no ideal Rechtsstaat, as there is in Cohen, although there is a pure vio-
lence. But the latter is divine. In a fragment written in 1920, concerning The
Right to Use Force,17 Benjamin speaks of my moral philosophy:
And in that connection the term anarchism may very well be used
to describe a theory that denies a moral right [das sittliche Recht ]
not to force as such [Gewalt als solcher] but to every human institu-
tion, community, or individuality that either claims a monopoly over it
or in any way claims that right for itself . . . , even if only as a general
principle, instead of respecting it in specific cases as a gift bestowed
by divine power [Gabe der gttlichen Macht], as consummation of
power. (Benjamin 1996b: 233)
17. Benjamins fragment concerns an article by Herbert Vorwerk, Das Recht zur
Gewaltanwendung, which appeared September 1920 in a Protestant Social-Democratic
journal; Vorwerks article specifically opposes what he calls ethical anarchism. See
Jacobson 2003 (308n56) and Fenves 2011 (21517).
18. On the question of manifestation in Critique of Violence, see Friedlander 2015
(16566).
might be able to call a halt to mythic violence, Benjamin states that the
former, the gttliche Gewalt, is not only attested by religious tradition but is
also found in present-day life in at least one hallowed manifestation [geheil-
igten Manifestation] (24950). This is the educative power or educative
violence I spoke of earlier, and which in its perfected form stands outside
the law (250). Benjamin does not at all linger on the perhaps surprising
proposition of a divinely mediated erzieherische GewaltCohen speaks,
in Religion of Reason, of the divine work of education (gttliche Erzie-
hungswerk [Cohen 1995: 340])and the essays commentators for the
most part have scarcely noted it.19 In Benjamins youth writings, education,
as the lever of social change, is associated with a broadly conceived mes-
sianic (if not yet Marxist) revolution in thinking and doing, one that begins
in philosophical reorientation of academic curricula while gesturing toward
the coming humanity of a new historical epoch, such as will be invoked at
the end of Critique of Violence.20 At every point, the education of con-
science is understood, not altogether at variance with classical precedents,
as a shock to the whole system. It is initiation, individual and collective, into
what cannot be possessed. Hence the ground is laid for conceiving the
eruptive antipositivist thrust of an educating violenceSorel had referred
to the educative force of revolutionary syndicalism ([1950] 1961: 242)21
in excess of the mechanism of the law. It is evidently a matter, to recall the
1926 letter to Scholem cited above, of fostering decision at every moment,
a certain open vigilance. Manifesting the discharge (Vollzug) and even
consummation of an emergent power of the divine, educative violence
instantiates moments of [that] unbloody, expiating discharge as it strikes
(Benjamin 1996b: 250). At stake in this intimate expiation, defined finally
by the absence of all lawmaking (250), is clearly not a course of education
accredited through any known institution, nor some programmatic or utili-
tarian pedagogy, but rather, we have to assume, something like life learn-
ing, inconspicuous and intermittentwhat I am calling force of conscience
as vital to historical consciousness. In fact, in a perhaps unconscious, and
at any rate oblique, recollection of Romans 8:25 on the subject of hope,
19. An exception is the article by Geulen 2005, which discusses the relevance of
Benjamins early student writings on education to his idea of pedagogical violence in
Critique of Violence. See also Honneth 2011 (2089), where Benjamin is judged to be
fomenting cultural revolution, and Friedlander 2015 (17576n21).
20. See Benjamin 2011 for the early writings on educational reform and youth philosophy.
21. See also Sorel (1950) 1961 (13839) on the educational value of the proletarian gen-
eral strike.
Benjamin writes at the essays end that the expiatory power of violence
(entshnende Kraft der Gewalt) is invisible, or at least not visible with cer-
tainty, to humans. For only mythic violence, not divine, will be recogniz-
able as such with certainty, unless it be in incomparable effects, because
the expiatory power of violence is for humans invisible [nicht zutage liegt ]
(252). This, of course, makes it very difficult to understand how divine vio-
lenceas simultaneously destructive and expiatorycan be both attested
in religious tradition and manifested in everyday life. In Edmund Jephcotts
translation: it strikes without bloodshed. . . . To this extent it is justifiable
to call this [divine] violence, too, annihilating; but it is so only relatively, with
regard to goods, right, life, and suchlike, never absolutely, with regard to the
soul of the living [die Seele des Lebendigen] (250). The last phrase echoes
another passage in Religion of Reason, one which itself this time quotes
the Book of Job, [Link] In Gods hand is the soul of every living thing.22
The souloriginally soul of blood, soul of smoke (from spilled blood)
becomes in biblical antiquity the principle of life (Cohen 1995: 296, 247). It
will be recalled that, in chapter 2 of Job, God grants to Satan power over all
Job thinks by right to possess, including his bodily health, reserving to him-
self only Jobs breath of life. Benjamin likewise distinguishes here between
life and the soul of what is alive.
Something of the ancient Jewish spiritualityCohen speaks of a
Jewish disdain for nature (47)23may thus be felt in what is surely the
most controversial aspect of Critique of Violence: its treatment of the
motif mere life or bare life (bloes Leben). The passage on the rela-
tively annihilating power of divine violence is followed by a short discussion
of the commandment Thou shalt not kill (which, he says, exists not as
a criterion of judgment but as a guiding principle, one that, in exceptional
[ungeheuere: monstrous] circumstances, might be disregarded) and of
Judaisms express rejection of the condemnation of killing in self-defense.
Weve seen that acts of defense may be taken to exemplify an originary vio-
lence. At issue now is the question of the sanctity of life (Benjamin 1996b:
250), something invoked by those who, like a former comrade in the youth
movement, Kurt Hiller, in his Activist tract Anti-Cain (1919), reject even
22. See Cohen 1995 (303). Cohens translation is Seele alles Lebendigen.
23. Cohen goes on, in this context, to emphasize one fundamental idea: that nature, that
man himself, has no original worth. . . . If nature and man should be able to attain any
worth at all, it could only be derived from the unique worth of Gods being (1995: 48). On
Benjaminian gnosis as a transvaluation of nature, as opposed to the Gnostics under-
valuation, see Agamben 2004 (8182).
24. Benjamin would have encountered the term bloes Leben, as deprecatingly applied
to philosophy of life, in Heinrich Rickerts lecture course Logic at the University of Frei-
burg, summer 1913 (Fenves 2016: 57).
25. Cited in Geulen 2005 (94950).
or freedom from) and a higher freedom (freedom for), and now we have
an analogous distinction between naked creaturely life, the pulsing corpo-
real life we imagine we share with animals and plants, and the irreducible
total condition [unverrckbaren Aggregatzustand ] that is human being
(1996b: 251).26 In The Task of the Translator, composed in 1921, Benjamin
writes similarly, Even in times of narrowly prejudiced thought, there was
an inkling that life was not limited to organic corporeality (25455).27 But
neither is it a matter finally of the soul of the living. In the final analysis, he
continues, the range of life must be determined by the standpoint of his-
tory rather than that of nature, least of all by such tenuous factors as sen-
sation and soul. The philosophers task consists in comprehending all of
natural life through the more encompassing life of history (255). At issue
in what will be called the natural-historical afterlife of works of art, in their
translation, critical reception, and fame, is, then, the unfolding of a special
and high form of life [eines eigentmlichen und hohen Lebens] (255). The
critique of militarism and of pacifism thus conjoins a critique of biologism;
in each case, what is criticized is a mode of thought and action premised
on the reduction of the historical life-aggregate, whether to mere survival
or to biometrics.
Here Benjamin ventures formulations we cannot very well accept
so wrote Herbert Marcuse in his afterword to a German reprint of Critique
of Violence, specifically in reference to the sentence quoted above, the
claim that our vulnerable bodily condition has nothing sacred about it (Mar-
cuse 1965: 103).28 This claim must seem objectionable especially to a cul-
ture in which bodily health is among the highest of values, but also to
any appreciation of the moral or spiritual advantages of vulnerability. To
be sure, Marcuse emphasizes the fact that Benjamins messianism has
little in common with traditional religiosity, and that fate, guilt, and expia-
tion here are in part social categoriesaspects of Benjamins theological-
political critique of postwar German Social Democracy at a time when belief
26. In The Right to Use Force, there is a differentiation of two distinct spheres in terms
of the violent rhythm of impatience in which the law exists and has its temporal order,
as opposed to the good (? [WB]) rhythm of expectation in which messianic events unfold
[das messianische Geschehen verluft] (Benjamin 1996b: 231). See also Benjamin
1996b (230) on the most noble (fragment written in 1920).
27. Compare Heideggers question as to whether the organism could ever determine
or even broach the essence of what is alive [Wesen des Lebendigen] (Heidegger 2016:
346 [translation modified]).
28. Marcuse suggests that Benjamins denial here of anything sacred to bodily life should
be understood in relation to his critique of myth.
in the possibility of social revolution was still vibrant. Fate, in this sense,
is society historicized, social relations posited as power relations, as law:
The Establishment. And revolution has become messianic now that the
process of history appears to have closed again. As other interpreters will
do after him, Marcuse links Benjamins essay, particularly its concluding
call for a suspension or deposing of the law (Entsetzung des Rechts), with
the celebrated theses On the Concept of History (1940), Benjamins last
known work, where revolutionary struggle has in view a messianic Stillstell-
ung, the arrest and transformative deactivation of positive goal setting
reorientation of inclination on a grand scale. The vigilance of social justice
presupposes the experience of what Benjamin in that text names now-time
(Jetztzeit), the paradoxical breaking open of the homogeneous continuum
of history by means of a singular bodily and historical crystallization, a
destabilizing tigers leap into the past whereby past and present moments
(tradition and the individual talent) violently converge in a new and higher,
tension- filled constellation of meaning (Benjamin 2003: 39596). Such
historical encapsulation each time occasions the awakening and distilla-
tion of a creative (divine) potential in human life. For the living being, even
in destitute condition, is never simply there like the rock in its mere exis-
tence. There is no bare life. Its concept makes sense only as opposed to
that of nothingness. Marcuse, in effect, quotes Benjamin against himself in
order to suggest that the human beings primal vulnerability may actually
be the condition for any messianic bearing. From such a realization, in fact,
derives Benjamins tragic conception of happiness.
Five years after the appearance of Marcuses afterword, the young
Giorgio Agambenwho would later devote his Homo Sacer series to pur-
suing Benjamins pointed query concerning the origins of the dogma of the
sacredness of life (1996b: 251)published an interpretation of Benjamins
essay that likewise addresses the theme of divine violence in terms of
transformed temporality. A violence divorced from the assertion of power
one that deliberately refrains from imposing or enforcing law and instead
breaks apart the established continuity of time to found a new erais not,
Agamben contends, as inconceivable as it first appears to be. In a move
that foreshadows subsequent preoccupations,29 he turns to the example
of primitive rituals that were designed to rupture the homogeneous flux of
profane time through acts of violence and thereby resurrect a primordial
temporality; it was only through such a regeneration of time that a new
29. See, for example, The Unspeakable Girl of 2010, a meditation on the Eleusinian ritu-
als of ancient Athens.
32. See Benjamin 2003 (108 [letter of December 9, 1938, to T. W. Adorno]), concerning
mythic rigidity [Starre] (thanks to Brendan Moran for this reference). Petrified unrest
(erstarrte Unruhe) is a motif of The Arcades Project.
33. It is not exactly clear, in this entry, where Benjamins sentences end and Scholems
might begin.
34. Benjamins term here, in the 1921 fragment Capitalism as Religion, is religisen Welt-
zustand. He writes, This passage of the planet Human through the house of despair
in the absolute solitude of its trajectory is the ethos that Nietzsche defines (Benjamin
1996b: 289).
35. Compare Benjamins hypothesis in Moral Education that all morality and religiosity
originates in solitude with God (2011: 110). See also, on solitude (Einsamkeit) in commu-
nity, Benjamin 1994 (5051 [letter of August 4, 1913, to Carla Seligson]). The uniqueness
of God is of course a central theme in Cohen.
36. In her chapter Walter Benjamin and the Critique of Violence, Butler (2012: 92) asso-
ciates this fragment with Critique of Violence, emphasizing the contravention of teleo-
logical time. She argues that Benjamins God here is not a vengeful God (96), though the
phrase Gottes Zorn, in the fragment, might suggest otherwise. The association of fury
and forgiveness, inverting the traditional motif (storm of wrath), points in this case beyond
the opposition of mercy and vengeance.
37. In the well-known Denkbild from the theses On the Concept of History, the angel of
history is similarly blown into the future by a storm from Paradise (Benjamin 2003: 392).
Compare the storm of eventuation (Sturm des Ereignisses) in Heidegger 2016 (312).
38. The expression is borrowed from Husserl (1931) 2012 (112) (Transzendenz in der
Immanenz).
39. Cohen cites a saying from the Talmud: The seal of the Holy One [Das Siegel des
Heiligen] . . . is truth (1995: 412).
40. This text, like many others by Benjamin, is still too Heideggerian, too messianico-
Marxist or archeo-eschatological for me (Derrida 2002: 298).
41. See Derrida 2005a (254). See also the concluding propositions on this issue of the
heterogeneity and inseparability of law and justice, and on reason as the wager of a
transaction between . . . calculation and the incalculable, in Derrida 2005b (15051).
stronger than any hatred, one who uses this space without possessing it
and is thus an enemy (Feind ) of the etui-man who looks for comfort and
encasement; we hear of one who, in clearing away and obliterating even
the traces of destruction, is always blithely at work, passing on situations
by making them practicable and thus liquidating them (Benjamin 1999:
54142). With his fundamentally historical consciousness, his bitter aware-
ness of the still irremediable Trauerspiel of history, the destructive charac-
ter, for all his metaphysical insouciance, retains an insuperable mistrust
of the course of things and a keen appreciation of eternal transience. He
sees nothing permanent. But for this very reason he sees ways every-
where (542). And because he is oriented ever anew to a manifold contin-
gency of possible paths or thresholds, so as to be continually in danger of
losing the way himself, he always stands at a crossroads, not knowing what
the next moment will bring but remaining ready for the untoward at every
turn. Such militantly open and exposed readiness in this unprepossessing
character bespeaks the Benjaminian policy of pure means, that teleology
without goal that defies the logic of instrumentality. It is a question not of
a set final goal but of an immediately recurring task, the telos of which is
immanent to the actual unfolding of the problem with its historical burden.
From the unfixed position of his anticlassical traditionalism, the
destructive character works to mortify phenomena, disaggregating the
sedimented and oncoming thingsBenjamins version of phenomenologi-
cal reductionso as, through excavation and reappropriation of traditional
material, to e-ducate in the literal sense, beyond all positivity: What exists
he reduces to rubblenot for the sake of the rubble, but for that of the way
leading through it (542 [my emphasis]). Although the destructive character
himself or herself has no interest in communication, per se, in being under-
stood, and even, for the sake of making room and leading out, may, we
are told, ruthlessly provoke misunderstanding, this simultaneously destruc-
tive and constructive ethos of reading perhaps provides a key to the avow-
edly nihilist method of the task of world politics announced at the end
of the Theological-Political Fragment and implicitly at stake in Critique
of Violence. As we have been suggesting, it is most plausibly viewed as
the essentially educational task of fostering a historically saturated atmo-
sphere of revolutionary freedomone thinks of the educator Nietzsches
divine nihilism42a task demanding, for individual and collective humanity,
continual self-transcendence and the overcoming or expiation of those
42. Concerning nihilism as a divine way of thinking (gttliche Denkweise), see Nietz-
sche 1968 (15 [note of 1887]).
stages of human being [Stufen des Menschen] that are nature (Benjamin
2002: 306). Such a historical overcoming would not dissolve the natural
tension in things,43 any more than does, say, the overcoming of nature in
dance. A mobile and contradictory set of imperatives, at any rate, would
again be in question: the liquidation of mythic reifications together with the
redemption of mythic energies, the assumption and articulation of the mes-
sianic rhythm of transience in everyday free fall, and the transformation of
all forms of work into rites of study. But we can start by undoing the com-
modification of education.
References
Agamben, Giorgio. 1998. Homo Sacer. Translated by Daniel Heller-Roazen. Stan-
ford, CA: Stanford University Press.
. 2004. The Open: Man and Animal. Translated by Kevin Attell. Stanford, CA:
Stanford University Press.
. 2015. On the Limits of Violence (1970). Translated by Elisabeth Fay. In
Towards the Critique of Violence, edited by Brendan Moran and Carlo Sal-
zani, 23138. London: Bloomsbury.
Arendt, Hannah. 1969. On Violence. New York: Harcourt.
Benjamin, Walter. 1977a. Gesammelte Schriften. Vol. 2. Edited by Rolf Tiedemann
and Hermann Schweppenhuser. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.
. 1977b. The Origin of German Tragic Drama. Translated by John Osborne.
London: Verso.
. 1989. Gesammelte Schriften. Vol. 7. Edited by Rolf Tiedemann et al. Frank-
furt: Suhrkamp.
. 1994. The Correspondence of Walter Benjamin: 19101940. Translated by
M. R. and E. M. Jacobson. Chicago: University of Chicago Press.
. 1995. Gesammelte Briefe. Vol. 1 (19101918). Edited by Christoph Gdde
and Henri Lonitz. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.
. 1996a. Gesammelte Briefe. Vol. 2 (19191924). Edited by Christoph Gdde
and Henri Lonitz. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.
43. In a fragment written in 1921, The Philosophy of History of the Late Romantics and
the Historical School, Benjamin refers to the realm of truly historicalthat is, religious-
pragmaticobservation [Betrachtung] as associated with the power [Kraft ] to recognize
the world in its stratifications [die Welt in ihren Schichtungen]. The connections among
[these strata] can be illuminated by theology only on the condition that mediating philoso-
phemes not dissolve their natural tension [natrliche Spannung] (Benjamin 1996b: 285).
Relevant here is Benjamins letter of December 9, 1923, to Florens Christian Rang, con-
cerning works of art as constituting the redeemed (gerettete) night of nature and their
interpretation as the gathering of creaturely life in the idea (Benjamin 1994: 22425).
and Experience, 2nd ed., edited by Andrew Benjamin and Peter Osborne,
10836. Manchester: Clinamen.
Haverkamp, Anselm. 1991. How to Take It (and Do the Right Thing): Violence and
the Mournful Mind in Benjamins Critique of Violence. Cardozo Law Review
13, no. 4: 115971.
. 1994. Ein Unabwerfbarer Schatten: Gewalt und Trauer in Benjamins Kri-
tik der Gewalt. In Gewalt und Gerechtigkeit: Derrida Benjamin, edited by
Anselm Haverkamp, 16284. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.
Heidegger, Martin. 1982. The Basic Problems of Phenomenology. Translated by
Albert Hofstadter. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
. 2016. Ponderings IIVI: Black Notebooks 19311938. Translated by Richard
Rojcewicz. Bloomington: Indiana University Press.
Honneth, Axel. 2011. Zur Kritik der Gewalt. In Benjamin-Handbuch: Leben
WerkWirkung, edited by Burkhardt Lindner, 193210. Stuttgart: Metzler.
Husserl, Edmund. (1931) 2012. Ideas: General Introduction to Pure Phenomenology.
Translated by W. R. Boyce Gibson. New York: Routledge.
Jacobson, Eric. 2003. Metaphysics of the Profane: The Political Theology of Wal-
ter Benjamin and Gershom Scholem. New York: Columbia University Press.
Kahmen, Volker. 1992. Walter Benjamin und Werner Kraft. In Fr Walter Benjamin,
edited by Ingrid and Konrad Scheurmann, 3455. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.
Kant, Immanuel. (1934) 1960. Religion within the Limits of Reason Alone. Translated
by Theodore Greene and Hoyt Hudson. New York: Harper and Row.
. 2007. Lectures on Pedagogy (1803), translated by Robert B. Louden. In
Anthropology, History, and Education, edited by Gnter Zller and Robert B.
Louden, 43485. Cambridge, UK: Cambridge University Press.
Khatib, Sami. 2015. The Politics of Pure Means: Walter Benjamin on Divine Vio-
lence. In Black Box: A Record of the Catastrophe, vol. 1, 87103. Oakland,
CA: PM Press.
Marcuse, Herbert. 1965. Nachwort. In Zur Kritik der Gewalt und andere Aufstze,
97107. Frankfurt: Suhrkamp.
Moran, Brendan, and Carlo Salzani. 2015. Introduction: On the Actuality of Critique
of Violence. In Towards the Critique of Violence, edited by Brendan Moran
and Carlo Salzani, 115. London: Bloomsbury.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. 1968. The Will to Power. Translated by Walter Kaufmann and
R. J. Hollingdale. New York: Vintage.
Scholem, Gershom. 1995. Tagebcher 19131917. Edited by Herbert Kopp-
Oberstebrink, Karlfried Grnder, and Friedrich Niewhner. Frankfurt:
Suhrkamp.
Sorel, Georges. (1950) 1961. Reflections on Violence. Translated by T. E. Hulme.
London: Collier.
Weber, Samuel. 1991. Deconstruction before the Name: Some Preliminary Remarks
on Deconstruction and Violence. Cardozo Law Review 13, no. 4: 118190.