This article begins by analysing the impact of May ’68 on Sartre. The article then attempts to show similarities and then differences between Sartre wanting to be a "new intellectual" and Sarkozy a "new type of politician," based on Sarkozy’s (in)famous speech given in Bercy in April 2007 prior to the second round of voting in the French Presidential elections when he launched into a most virulent attack on the spirit of May ’68. Finally, I argue that (...) class='Hi'>Sarkozy wants to go back to the time of colonialism in the 1950s and 1960s, reclaiming in the process de Gaulle’s heritage. (shrink)

La logométrie et l’Intelligence artificielle (deep learning) appliquées aux textes politiques permettent de repérer dans le discours d’Emmanuel Macron les emprunts linguistiques qu’il contracte auprès de ses prédécesseurs à l’Elysée (de Gaulle, Pompidou, Giscard, Mitterrand, Chirac, Sarkozy et Hollande). Les emprunts les plus importants, lexicaux autour de la valeur travail et énonciatifs autour de l’exhibition du « je » et du « je veux », concernent statistiquement Nicolas Sarkozy.

The article presents an analysis of the ways in which knowledge is displayed, contested and renegotiated in the 2007 French presidential debate between Ségolène Royal and Nicolas Sarkozy. Knowledge displays can be achieved through a series of ‘neutral’ resources, such as informing, explanation or comment, or through face-damaging resources, such as questioning an unknowledgeable interlocutor to prove his inferior epistemic status and boost one’s own. The article focuses on this latter type of knowledge display where a knowledgeable participant engages (...) in question–answer sequences with an unknowledgeable respondent in front of a third party. The article also undertakes an analysis of the multimodal strategies employed by the participant to discredit the opponent. The article intends to contribute to the existent literature on epistemic stance by offering a prototypical example of incongruence between the epistemic status of the questioner and the epistemic stance he adopts. (shrink)

The European Legacy, Volume 16, Issue 6, Page 807-809, October 2011.

This paper takes the recent French elections as an opportunity to reflect on the nature of the presidential function in parliamentary democracies. The discrepancy between the winning candidate's pre-election declarations and his actual approach to his new function reflects a fundamental divergence in the possible interpretations of political representation. This divergence was made fully explicit and came to a head in the debate that opposed the two great jurists of the Weimar Republic, Hans Kelsen and Carl Schmitt. This paper suggests (...) that revisiting this old polemic can yield interesting insights into the contemporary situation. (shrink)

Ne serait-ce que par son titre, dont l’oxymore est d’emblée assumée (p.11) et dont les protagonistes sont associés d’une manière qui ne laisse de surprendre, l’ouvrage de Julien Boudon publié dans la collection « Les sens du droit » des éditions Dalloz, mériterait de retenir l’attention.Dans ce court opus, l’auteur entend, à travers un examen qui puise tout à la fois aux sources de l’histoire, de la philosophie, du droit, de la science politique, et qui emprunte à la fois au (...) style de la monog.. (shrink)

Ne serait-ce que par son titre, dont l’oxymore est d’emblée assumée (p.11) et dont les protagonistes sont associés d’une manière qui ne laisse de surprendre, l’ouvrage de Julien Boudon publié dans la collection « Les sens du droit » des éditions Dalloz, mériterait de retenir l’attention.Dans ce court opus, l’auteur entend, à travers un examen qui puise tout à la fois aux sources de l’histoire, de la philosophie, du droit, de la science politique, et qui emprunte à la fois au (...) style de la monog.. (shrink)

This study focuses on the use and function of refutation in two televised debates during which candidates who have reached the second round of the French presidential elections come face to face. The aim of this study is to examine the forms and functions of refutation within the theoretical framework of dialogism. The rhetorical-argumentative functions of refutation and the challenges of this discursive practice in the genre “televised political debate” will also be put forward.

Through the vehicle of Nicolas Sarkozy’s so-called “Dakar Address” we will analyse the West’s persisting lack of insight into the need for a Western decolonization. We will try to identify the dangers that come from this refusal, such as the abidance in colonial patterns, the enduring self-understanding as superior com-pared to Africa, and the persisting unwillingness to accept the colonial guilt. Decolonization has to be understood as a two-fold business. Decolonization is over-coming endured and perpetrated violence. It is not (...) only important that the colonial oppressed regain strength, it is equally important that the perpetrator of colonial violence understand their excess of violence and work on effecting its return impossible. We explain how Western thinking remains dangerous and untrustwor-thy if it refuses its own decolonization. Finally, we will draw attention to a fundamental pattern of Western thought that clashes with the fundamental values of the West: contempt. In a final step we suggest how this contempt can be overcome through desuperiorisation and the establishment of elative ethics. (shrink)

In _The Immaterial_,_ _French social philosopher André Gorz argues, in his finely-tuned and polemical style, that the economic boom that accelerated in the 1990s and crashed so spectacularly in 2008 was based largely on an immaterial consumption of symbols and ideas, as capitalism tried to overcome the crisis of the formally industrial regime by throwing itself into a new, so-called knowledge economy. In this, the last full-length theoretical work Gorz completed before his death, he argues instead for the creation of (...) a true knowledge economy. This economy would be based on zero-cost exchange and pooled resources, and knowledge would be treated as humanity’s common property. Currently, in order to exploit knowledge and turn it into capital, the capitalist enterprise privatizes specialized knowledge and claims ownership through private licenses and copyright. But as Gorz shows, the traditional foundations of such capitalist economics have begun to crumble because of the immaterial nature of this new form of product, which makes it almost impossible to measure in monetary terms. The knowledge economy, Gorz declares, _is_ the crisis of capitalism. Thought-provoking and divisive, _The Immaterial _is the perfect book for our time, as we begin to reimagine the structures of our economic system in order to rebuild and move forward. “It is to Gorz... that readers should turn for a compelling combination of sharp analysis, well-wrought polemic, and suggestions for the future.”—_Red Pepper_ “A great figure of the intellectual Left.”—Nicolas Sarkozy “Gorz’s intelligence strikes you at the very first glance: it is one of the nimblest, acutest intelligences I know.”—Jean-Paul Sartre. (shrink)

Tout le film est toujours une microphysique du pouvoir, en potence, d’être étudier. Aujourd’hui l'augmentation des productions d'horreur et son public ont fait le film d'horreur une «contreculture» dominante, mais toujours sous l'effet négatif du pouvoir et du savoir qui disqualifient les discours, matérialisée dans ces films, ce qui les rend illégitime et exiler en soi espace filmique, transformée en un lieu adapté pour interdite et marquée par certaines pratiques discursives avec certains dispositifs d'exclusion. Paradoxalement, les types marginaux qui apparaissent (...) dans l'ordre de ces productions occupent les positions de sujets à exercer le pouvoir dans l'horreur et dans le même temps le renforcement de leur marginalité et de son objectivation. Ces aspects et les spécificités qui caractérisent les productions d'une part, nous ont amenés à identifier les pratiques de l'objectivation qui transforment corps dans les sujets dans l'horreur; d'autre part, de démontrer que ces films constituent une nouvelle technologie de contrôle social des corps, mais l'objectif principal de cette étude est d'analyser les relations de pouvoir à travers l'antagonisme des stratégies dans ce discours, qui est, pour savoir ce que cela signifie d'avoir un corps libre, nous examinons ce qui se passe sur le corps subjugué dans les films d'horreur, prenant l'archeogenealogie de Foucault comme base théorique. Cette questionhypothèse aurait un autre groupe: d'où pourrait faire une telle histoire? Nous supposons que dans les moments de crise, les films d'horreur ont beaucoup à prouver, donc nous avons opté pour un très similaire à celui qui Foucault a été invité par les experts de la revue Cahiers du cinéma pour discuter des conditions pour les productions cinématographiques comme Le Chagrin et la Pitié (1969), Portier de nuit (1974) et Lacombe Lucien (1974), quand on a regardé le déclin du gaullisme et l’ascention de Valéry Giscard d'Estaing , le vainqueur de la présidentielle de 1974, avec le soutien de l'ancien droit Tardieu et petainistes, anciens alliés de l'occupation du Führer Hitler de la France, entre 1940 à 1943. Maintenant, les conditions de production sont ceux qui marquent la fin des gouvernements socialistes de Mitterrand et Chirac, et le retour au pouvoir de la droite, à l'ascension politique de Nicolas Sarkozy. Au milieu de la crise économique de l'Union Européenne, flotte dans l'air la peur terrifiante de risque que l'arrivée de l'extrême droite au pouvoir. La présence croissante d'immigrants est aussi dans l'ordre d'une nouvelle crise de l'identité française. Ce sont les conditions de production de À l'intérieur, Frontière (s),Martyrs, Ils, La Meute, Captifs et Derrière les murs et, des films qui font partie de notre corpus. À la methodologie, nous développons les trois concepts opérationnels: le dispositif filmique de la mémoire, de la vérité et de l'objectivité pour traiter la mémoire populaire, recodé dans ces films et soi-disant perçu par nous comme l'un des principaux modes de contrôle des corps d’horreur; la notion d’intericonicité est encore utilisée pour indiquer des images qui renvoient à d'autres, mais tout en réalisant que chaque image a dans sa juxtaposition afin de utopies des hétérotopies. Donc, nous avons décidé de donner une nouvelle forme à cette notion, y compris l'utopique juxtaposés à des espaces hétérotopiques, sous l'influence de la discussion faite par Foucault dans le Corps utopique et Les hétérotopies. Keyword:Mémoire. Corps. Pouvoir. Discours politique. Film français d’horreur. (shrink)

In his speech at the University of Dakar in July 2007, the French president Nicolas Sarkozy referred to Africa as the continent that has not yet fully entered history. This article takes this obvious reference to Hegel as its starting point and examines the current significance of ‘Hegel’s Africa’. Through a close reading of The Philosophy of History and The Phenomenology of Spirit, it shows that Hegel’s remarks on Africa are by no means incidental. They constitute rem(a)inders of a (...) modernity that is based on the construction of Africa as its own limit. The return of Hegel’s Africa, the article concludes, can thus not be restricted to a problem of the new European right. It is part of an understanding of modernity that remains haunted by the specters of racism. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:What a Wall Wants, or How Graffiti ThinksNomad Grammatology in the French BanlieueDavid Fieni (bio)[End Page 72]>> Nomad GrammatologyThe now infamous series of inflammatory remarks that Nicolas Sarkozy, as interior minister, repeatedly unleashed during the summer and fall leading up to the banlieue riots of 2005 sparked a swift and fierce public outcry. Commentators in both the French and foreign press were quick to criticize Sarkozy’s vow (...) to “flush out [the thugs of La Corneuve] with a Kärcher [pressure washer]” (il faut [les] nettoyer au Kärcher).1 It was pointed out by Azouz Begag, as the newly appointed minister of equal opportunities, that such “warlike” language indiscriminately victimizes young people in the banlieue, while journalist Doug Ireland argued that Sarkozy’s comments conveyed hints of ethnic cleansing by equating urban youth, largely of Maghrebi origin, with dirt that needed to be violently removed from the otherwise smooth and clean civic spaces of the French Republic.2 The populist rage that Sarkozy articulated by using the term racaille (rabble, scum) received most of the attention, including an essay in Le Monde that explored the word’s etymology (intended as a lesson in the politics of language for the French interior minister).3It is the Kärcher reference, however, that most interests me here. Kärcher, a company based in Germany, whose own website touts it as “the most recognized and trusted name in high-pressure cleaning equipment,” manufactures machines used to clean city walls and public latrines. By proclaiming that he wanted to “kärcherize” the “racaille,” Sarkozy evoked a specific technology of urban cleansing that vividly illustrates the increasingly brutal approach to the banlieue that marks French urban policy since the 1980s. The Kärcher water blaster is not a mere metaphor, but an actual machine used to scour graffiti from a variety of hard-to-clean surfaces. Sarkozy’s comments thus equate banlieue youth (la racaille) with their signs of passage through urban space (le graff, as graffiti is often called). The young banlieusards themselves become illegible signs on the new smooth spaces of the HLM housing estates. The rhetorical dehumanization of young people from “troubled neighborhoods,” combined with hostility to graffiti, reveals the neo-logocentrism operative in the penal republican state that reiterates colonialism’s pseudo-scientific rationale for depriving supposedly illiterate peoples of history, reason, and even the very capacity for thought, a rationale that ultimately justifies their exclusion from the entire chain of civilizational benefits and rights attendant upon literacy and reason. One piece of anti-Sarkozy graffiti in Brest near the port de commerce, depicting Sarkozy as the national cop wielding a billy club, displays an explicit awareness of this interpretation of what nettoyer au Kärcher means (fig. 1). Text accompanying the cartoonish caricature reads, “Article 1: Nettoyage des graffitis au Kärcher” (Article 1: Cleaning graffiti with a Kärcher).4It would be an error, however, to suggest that the category, “banlieue youth,” exists independent of the statements that construct it as an identifiable group. Mustafa Dikeç’s recent demonstration of the way that French urban policy “produces” the banlieue as a space to be policed and contained also extends to the way that specific groups within these spaces are produced through the media, statistics, law, and other techniques.5 The [End Page 73] act of naming the racaille effectively produces them as a social category precisely at the same moment that the necessity of cleansing their living inscription from the cité is asserted. I am calling this nettoyage or erasure of these groups “neo-logocentric” because part of its target is graffiti, which, as I hope to demonstrate, represents an important emerging global practice of inscription that produces multiple transnational connections among ghettoized spaces around the world. Graffiti functions as a kind of alternative literacy that operates within a plane that connects with literacy in the narrow sense of the term, but remains independent from it. The strong reactions that graffiti elicits, as adduced by Sarkozy’s remarks (and one could cite dozens of other examples), suggest that the new technologies of thought, mobility, and inscription that graffiti engineers are what make it... (shrink)

The universe is expanding, the world has gone global, and the US has launched a crusade to export the universal right to democracy to every part of the world. Under the circumstances, it is hardly surprising that the concept of universality is making a remarkable comeback in aesthetic and political theory. The meaning of the world, however, seems more contested than ever. Some denounce it as the ideological guise of particular interests, others as the conceptual equivalent of totalitarianism. But a (...) growing number maintain that universality is an indispensable notion for any genuinely critical aesthetics and politics. Confronting Universalites consists of 12 contributors that examine how contemporary works of art in different media and genres influence, shape, or confront the political realm in both theory and practice by way of the universal. The topics of the essays include depictions of German unification, identity politics of aesthetic taste, contemporary uses of van Gogh, globalized photography, the infamous Danish cartoons, iconic architecture, cinematic representations of migration, the speeches of Nicolas Sarkozy and the interventions of contemporary art in the war in Afghanistan. From various theoretical points of departure, they all demonstrate the importance of the universal in the description of political aesthetic practice in a globalising world. (shrink)

The 14th International Congress of Logic, Methodology and Philosophy of Science was held in July, 19th – 26th, 2011 in Nancy, the historic capital of Lorraine and birthplace of Henri Poincaré. We were very honored that the President of the French Republic, Monsieur Nicolas Sarkozy, generously agreed his patronage. The LMPS congresses represent the current state of the art and offer new perspectives in its fields. There were 900 registered participants from 56 different countries. They filled...

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Reviewed by:Crossing Borders: Love between Women in Medieval French and Arabic LiteraturesCary Howie (bio)Sahar Amer, Crossing Borders: Love between Women in Medieval French and Arabic Literatures. Philadelphia: U of Pennsylvania P, 2008, xii + 254 pp.Sahar Amer’s Crossing Borders adds to the expanding bibliography on medieval sexualities by showing the resonances between certain female same-sex relationships in medieval French literature and analogous, though generally more explicit, relationships between women (...) in the medieval Arabic tradition. In the process, sexuality becomes a way of talking about the porous boundaries that constitute the field of Old French, and perhaps even Western, literature as such.Amer’s book couldn’t have arrived at a better time, as Sarkozy’s French government once again, in the name of French values, intervenes in the debates around religion and clothing in the public sphere, debates in which the old divides between France and its constitutive others—in this case, certain kinds of Islam and certain kinds of women— have once again come to the fore. By proposing that “medieval French writing is essentially a hybrid, cross-cultural project” (163), Amer contributes not just to the emerging sense of the Middle Ages’ postcoloniality (as articulated by Jeffrey Jerome Cohen and Sharon Kinoshita, among others) but also to the work being done by intellectual historians and cultural theorists such as Joan Scott and Diane Rubenstein on the fantastic investments that take place within and around French universalism (which could be said to inform the idea of the literary no less than the idea of the citizen).Crossing Borders begins with the notion of borders as “fluid spaces of cultural exchange, adaptation, and collaboration” (ix), and it is the emphasis on a more general sense of cultural exchange, more than the fact of borders per se, that will permeate the chapters that follow. (In fact, the border, like “the lesbian,” Amer’s polemical term of choice for the women she describes, may be important for her argument precisely insofar as it resists visibility, as it remains to some extent difficult to locate.) Amer’s reading of Old French texts, in dialogue with a handful of medieval Arabic narratives and erotic compilations, proceeds from an understanding of medieval culture in which there is “a continuity rather than a rupture between medieval and modern conceptions of alternative [End Page 156] sexualities” (9), and in which it is possible to argue for influences that are tough, if not impossible, to trace empirically. According to this logic, ideas and stories may have circulated “next to” more tangible material goods taken to and from the Arab Islamicate world (13), and French authors may have “culled some elements from Arabic material and wove[n] them into a literary fabric to suit their audience’s sensibilities” (163). This attentiveness to what “may have” happened (e.g., 44, 110) is one of the signature gestures of Amer’s critical poetics, which I am tempted to describe as an imaginative historicism, committed at once to the explanatory power of historical context and to what Amer will repeatedly call the “imagination of the audience” (e.g., 79).After an initial chapter outlining this “cross-cultural” poetics of contextualization and imaginative investment, chapter 2, “Crossing Linguistic Borders,” is dedicated to seven stanzas of a late twelfth-century poem, Étienne de Fougères’s Livre des manières, in which a long description is given of women who go “against Nature” by “join[ing] shield to shield without a lance” (32). Amer reads these military metaphors for female homoeroticism in light of Arabic sources including, for example, al-Jurjani’s eleventh-century Anthology of Metonymic Devices, in which one of the cited commonplaces observes, “They [lesbians] manifest a war in which there is no spear-thrusting” (36). Most provocatively, Amer argues for the Arabic provenance of two otherwise untranslatable words in Étienne’s text, “trutennes,” which she traces to an Arabic root meaning “the mons of the beloved” (40), and “eu,” which she interprets as an orgasmic onomatopoeia. From mons to moans, the “medieval French literary lesbian” is a condensation of forms and fantasies—and noises—that come from before and beyond medieval France. In fact, the... (shrink)

Although there was never a consensus about multicultural policies for immigrants, at the beginning of this new millennium, multiculturalism found itself in cloudy water. Within a short period, politicians Merkel, Cameron, and Sarkozy all informed us that multiculturalism had failed. While this political statement drew many objections—How could these politicians claim we should abandon multiculturalism, given that multiculturally conscious notions of justice and their concomitant laws and policies for immigrants have never even been implemented in their respective countries? —political (...) and philosophical critique of multiculturalism have nonetheless become more vigorous (Vertovec and... (shrink)

This article looks at riots that consumed Paris and much of France for three consecutive weeks in November 2005. The author argues that the uprisings were not instigated by radical Muslims, children of African polygamists, or despairing youth suffering from high unemployment. First and foremost, they were provoked by a terrible incident of police brutality, a tragedy among a litany of similar tragedies. Black and Arab youth were already frustrated: decades of violent enforcement of France's categorical boundaries—both racial and geographic—had (...) filled many with rage. When Minister of Interior Nicholas Sarkozy responded to the violent death of three teenage boys on October 25, 2005, by condemning the boys rather than the police officers who had killed them, he merely reaffirmed what many young blacks and Arabs already believed: that their lives have no value in France. (shrink)

The 14th International Congress of Logic, Methodology and Philosophy of Science was held in July, 19th – 26th, 2011 in Nancy, the historic capital of Lorraine and birthplace of Henri Poincaré. We were very honored that the President of the French Republic, Monsieur Nicolas Sarkozy, generously agreed his patronage. The LMPS congresses represent the current state of the art and offer new perspectives in its fields. There were 900 registered participants from 56 different countries. They filled...

Jean-Paul Sartre: Mind and Body, Word and Deed celebrates Sartre's polyvalence with an examination of Sartrean philosophy, literature, and politics. In four distinct yet related sections, twelve scholars from three continents examine Sartre's thought, writing and action over his long career. "Sartre and the Body" reappraises Sartre's work in dialogue with other philosophers past and present, including Maine de Biran, Maurice Merleau-Ponty and Didier Anzieu. "Sartre and Time" offers a first-hand account by Michel Contat of Sartre and Beauvoir working together, (...) and a "philosophy in practice" analysis by François Noudelmann. "Ideology and Politics" uses Sartrean notions of commitment and engagement to address modern and contemporary politics, including insights into Castro, De Gaulle, Sarkozy and Obama. Finally, an important but neglected episode of Sartre's life the visit that he and Beauvoir made to Japan in 1966 is narrated with verve and humour by Professor Suzuki Michihiko, who first met Sartre during that visit and remained in touch subsequently. Taken together, these twelve chapters make a strong case for the continued relevance of Sartre today. (shrink)

Nach den Anschlagen in Paris, Brussel und Nizza und den verzweifelten Erklarungsversuchen sind die Baden-Badener Reden von Alfred Grosser, Hans Gert-Pottering und Robert Zollitsch eine grosse Hilfe. Eine Hilfe, die schmerzenden Erfahrungen des Augenblicks in einen grosseren Zusammenhang zu bringen. Wenn etwa Alfred Grosser in seiner Rede den Bogen zu seiner eigenen Biografie hin zu den Banlieues unserer Tage in Paris spannt. "Ich bin seit 1937 Franzose, unsere Erziehungsministerin ist Franzosin seit 1995, unser Premierminister seit 1982, die Burgermeisterin von Paris (...) seit 1973, Nicolas Sarkozy ist Fluchtlingssohn. Niemand wird sagen, sie sind nicht Franzosen. Aber die jungen Leute in den sogenannten "Vororten" sind fast alle franzosische Staatsburger und werden total diskriminiert. Also, sie haben die franzosische Identitat, gewiss, aber sie suchen eine andere Identitat und das ist der Islam. Nicht der Islam war zuerst da, sondern die Diskriminierung.". (shrink)

Clanak je proistekao iz studije koja je izvedena u okviru Grupe za materijalisticka istrazivanja, i za cilj ima kritiku neokolonijalne ideoloske matrice koja stoji iza slavnog i kontroverznog govora koji je Nikola Sarkozi odrzao u Dakaru 2007. Stavovi bivseg predsednika Republike Francuske odmah su povezani sa kolonijalnim stereotipima pozvao na ponovno ispitivanje ove stranice istorije. Taj poziv nije toliko upucen francuskoj desnici koliko francuskim i zapadnim elitama uopste. Iako priznaje da je veliki deo africkih politicara ucestvovao u stvaranju haosa na (...) svom kontinentu, u njegovom rasparcavanju i u ratovima koji ga unistavaju, on zeli da se Sarkozijevom govoru suprotstavi recima trojice najznacajnijih predstavnika panafrikanizma: Kvamea Nkrumaha, Patrisa Lumumbe i Tomasa Sankara. Ova tri politicara cvrsto su se suprotstavili neokolonijalnim ekonomskim interesima koji stoje na putu istinske africke nezavisnosti. Povrh toga, treba istaci da su zaboravljanje i potiskivanje patnji koje je donela kolonizacija, a sto je na delu u zapadnim zemljama, znak da je vecina njihovih stanovnistava prihvata stanje stvari u Africi kao nesto sto je na neki nacin prirodno. To precutno prihvatanje predstavlja osnovni uslov svakodnevne reprodukcije pacifikatorskog diskursa nadmocnog zapada. Africke nevolje, otud, svoj uzrok nemaju toliko u stavu africkog coveka, koliko u sistemu ekonomske i ideoloske dominacije koji osiguravaju medjunarodne ustanove poput Ujedinjenih nacija, Svetske banke ili MMF-a. (shrink)

In the French presidential election, both candidates tried to keep their domestic life separate from their campaign. Ségolène Royal is not married to François Hollande, the father of her four children. When asked whether they were a couple, Royal replied, “Our lives belong to us.” Similarly, in response to rumors that President-elect Nicholas Sarkozy’s wife had left him, a spokesman for Sarkozy said, “That’s a private matter.” The French have a long tradition of respecting the privacy of their (...) politicians’ personal lives, and French public opinion is more broad-minded than in the United States, where an unwed mother of four would have no chance of being nominated for the presidency by a major party. Indeed, last month, Randall Tobias, the top foreign aid adviser in the US State Department, resigned after acknowledging that he had used an escort service described as providing “high-end erotic fantasy” – although Tobias said he only had a massage. (shrink)

In the French presidential election, both candidates tried to keep their domestic life separate from their campaign. Ségolène Royal is not married to François Hollande, the father of her four children. When asked whether they were a couple, Royal replied, “Our lives belong to us.†Similarly, in response to rumors that President-elect Nicholas Sarkozy’s wife had left him, a spokesman for Sarkozy said, “That’s a private matter.â€.

continent. 1.4 (2011): 253—278. A Sense of French Politics Politics itself is not the exercise of power or struggle for power. Politics is first of all the configuration of a space as political, the framing of a specific sphere of experience, the setting of objects posed as "common" and of subjects to whom the capacity is recognized to designate these objects and discuss about them.(1) On April 14, 2011, France implemented its controversial ban of the niqab and burqa , commonly (...) referred to as the Islamic veil, in public places. On the coattails of the 2004 prohibition of religious artifacts, including the less concealing hijab or Islamic headscarves, in schools, the veil ban sparked equal outrage across both political and theological spectra, and many on both sides of the debate were quick to inquire about enforcement. As Steven Erlanger reports, “The police do not have the authority under the law to remove full veils, only to fine or require citizenship lessons for those who violate the new law.”(2) While the legal and social implications of this interdiction are ripe for study, the reprisals for breaking the law, notably compulsory citizenship classes, illuminate the strategic governmentality underlying the French government's targeting of the Muslim community, particularly those elements it considers affiliated with fundamentalist factions and/or terrorist organizations, if only through fashion—an integral component of French citizenship. Indeed, in allowing the (fashion) police to mandate instructional courses in citizenship for offenders, France implies that any Muslim choosing to wear the niqab or burqa , perhaps even for those who are already citizens, must not be aware of the subtle nuances of dress indicative of the French citizenry within public space. Furthermore, the degree of instruction requisite to citizenship, which clearly can and must be updated as the state sees fit, cements the imagined relation between citizens and states within the discourses on the veil ban. As Sharma contends, “Concepts of citizenship are the ideological glue that bonds the nation to the state. Citizenship provides the legal framework through which the state performs its role as ruler for the nation.”(3) Speaking for/as the state, French President Nicolas Sarkozy declared in a 2009 presentation before members of the government and other citizens that the burqa “is not welcome on the territory of France.”(4) Although there is nothing unique, especially recently, about a nation-state taking extreme measures to guard itself against what it deems to be threats to its sovereignty, the way in which the ongoing discourses on hijab have (d)evolved, which coincide with recent pronouncements by governmental leaders in Germany, Britain, and France that policies of multiculturalism have “failed,”(5) points toward nationalist reterritorializations, which is also to say physical and ideological re-appropriations, of public space within democratic milieux, which remain predicated upon the mediation of spaces. As Panagia deduces from Rancière, “Democracy […] is not an institutional form of government […], but an appearance whose visibilities and audibilites arise out of the dissonant blur of the everyday.”(6) Ultimately, the veil ban represents a calculated move to regulate the every day, which is to say the micropolitics of, that which is visible and invisible within French society, which makes it nothing short of a struggle to manage (the sensation of) bodies. Re-situating the political within the context of sense, Rancière argues that the fundamental essence of politics lies within the distinction between consensus and dissensus , and whereas most consider politics proper as fundamentally concerned with the fluid operations of the state— consensus , Rancière actually locates the political within events that disrupt the normative sensory order of things— dissensus . He explains, “Politics revolves around what is seen and what can be said about it, around who has the ability to see and the talent to speak, around the properties of spaces and the possibilities of time.”(7) This reformulation of politics centers on agency and, albeit perhaps unintended, representationality and offers a useful formulation for spatializing the discourses surrounding the Islamic veil, which are mired within seemingly senseless policies and practices of objectification. Instituting a normative “regime of visibility,” the French veil ban encapsulates the political economy of agency, now both mediated and representational, under the rule of nationalist governmentalities in increasingly transnational contexts.(8) Adjudicating presence within public space signals a concern with the sensory aspects of agency itself—what Rancière terms the “distribution of the sensible,” which is “a matrix that defines a set of relations between sense and sense: that is, between a form of sensory experience and an interpretation which makes sense of it.”(9) To be concerned with sense is to focus upon the body, and this somatic repositioning of the (fashionable) citizen within the territory of the state augurs the resurgence of nationalist bio-politics within Europe, since, as Hage explicates, “Nationalism, before being an explicit practice or a mode of classification, is a state of the body. It is a way of imagining one's position within the nation and what one can aspire to as a national.”(10) The French government's attempt to make (bodily) sense of public space for its citizens by and through policies aimed against a burqa-clad Muslim minority, which might only apply to “less then 400 to fewer than 2,000” women(11), reveals the necessary, yet mercurial, transmutation of public space into national space through bio-political strategies of sense-making, which, as Hage observes, denotes that “nationalists perceive themselves as spatial managers.”(12) At the center of this concern over public space is the equally contentious dimension of governing female Islamic identity, which has become one of the main critiques levied against Islam from outsiders who view the veil in its various forms as a clear sign of the religion's actual and symbolic violence against women, even if such critiques remain ensconced within nationalist discourses. As Halim and Meyers argue, “Although Western news media may focus their coverage of Muslim women on the debate over whether and the extent to which the veil may by oppressive to the women who wear it, they have exhibited little interest in the physical oppression of violence against women in Islamic countries.”(13) While it falls outside of the scope of this analysis to arbitrate all of the dimensions of this debate, understanding some of the issues related to female identity and hijab within public space are crucial to this study. As these topics are extraordinarily complex, even and perhaps especially within the Muslim community, it is necessary to provide some context concerning the value, purpose, and meaning of the Islamic veil, which has a rich and arduous history. The Art of the Veil At present, there are only two countries, Iran and Saudi Arabia, that require women to wear hijab , which is a decidedly problematic term and concept whose locus is itself caught within a struggle of sensation. Noting the strategic reterritorialization of the term, Berger explains: The choice of the name, hijab , now widely adopted to designate the “Islamic veil,” it itself interesting, although the semantic shift it operates is not directly commented upon by its users. Although the design (both the cut and the symbolic function) of the hijab and the Iranian chador are indeed the same, as opposed, for instance, to the traditional Algerian haik , the word hijab has come to replace the term chador popularized by the Iranian revolution, as a properly Arabic (hence Koranic) designation. This discursive shift points to the successful reclaiming of the national revolution in Iran by a transnational pan-Islamic movement, whose language of reference can only be Koranic Arabic.(14) While the hijab is certainly a point of contention within various countries dealing with immigrant Islamic populations (of which France has the largest in Europe as part of its colonial legacy in Algeria), it is clear that the veil is a historically contextualized artifact of Muslim identity with a variety of manifestations, even as forces outside of and within Islam seek to codify its actual and symbolic value. Ultimately, the varieties of hijab , including the full-faced burqa and niqab , are complex assemblages of meaning that speak to the multitudinous flows of Islamic identities over time and space. As Gökariksel and McLarney observe, “Wearing a certain style of veil may simultaneously be a disciplinary practice crucial to the cultivation of piety (Mahmood 2005; Gokariksel 2009) and a gendered performance of social distinction in terms of class, taste, and urbanity (White 1999; Navaro-Yashin 2002; Gokariksel and Secor 2009) or of ethnicity and race (Dwyer 1999).”(15) The ideological marketplace from which the varieties of hijab ebb and flow serves both as a reflection of the ever-present materiality and dynamic functionality of spiritual economies, which are derivative of the equally ubiquitous flows of transnational capital driving agency and representationality within our historical moment. Keeping these dual, yet deeply interconnected, capital ecologies as the site of exploration for how the veil is represented within public space, one might begin to sense what lurks behind such veiled agendas. Examining the symbolic and representational nature of the Islamic “veil” in its various forms, this project situates the decidedly political contestations of public space at stake in the French ban alongside recent condemnations of multiculturalism as calculated efforts to re-distribute the sensible so as to valorize national identity within increasingly transnational and globalized socio-economic spaces, which collapse exchange values between distinct, yet interwoven, economies of (cultural/material/spiritual) capital. As the discourses on the veil rely upon representational imag(in)ings, it seems fitting to explore the political economy and art of the veil through the phenomenon of street art, which, much like hijab , is a complex assemblage of meaning of sensation mired in representationality and capital exchange. As street artists have taken up hijab in various forms, the movement offers a lens with which to situate critical responses to the veil debate across both spiritual and material economies. Situating this street art both aesthetically and historically, Lewisohn explains, “'Street art' is a sub-genre of graffiti writing and owes much to its predecessor. Though there is a good deal of crossover between the genres, they are distinct and separate in their own right.”(16) Evolving out of the graffiti explosion of the late 1970's and 1980's, street art broke the unspoken rules of the artistic underground by challenging and re-examining one's sensory experience of art in public space by experimenting with both content and form in ways that harken back to the Situationist International, which as a collective challenged one's experience of urban space through various media and experiential phenomena. Again, Lewisohn observes, “It's important to note street art's break with the tradition of the tag, and its focus on visual symbols that embrace a much wider range of media than graffiti writers would use.”(17) From stencils to prints and murals to one-liners, street artists developed a reputation for critical social and political commentary, and while it is certainly the case that not all street art is intentionally political, in challenging the normative “regime of visibility,” as Rancière puts it, of public space, street artists—even if unconsciously—call into question the common sensory experience of the politics underlying the formation of (nationalist) space.(18) Indeed, Rancière refers to the partisan sensory managers as “police,” who ultimately forge “the rules governing the circulation of appearances, of their visibility and audibility, and the proper distribution of bodies therein.”(19) As such, one can sense that street art's relationship with the police is tenous for a variety of reasons. Writing about his own experience as a street artist, Shepard Fairey observes, “With street art, there's no committee deciding whether I can put my work up on the street, there's no censorship, and I have total freedom of expression, and that concept of freedom is expressed just by using the street as a medium.”(20) As Fairey and other street artists demonstrate, the medium, to paraphrase Marshall McLuhan, is the most glaring aspect of street art's message, and even as it now finds itself in galleries and usurped by private collectors, the ethos of the movement remains relavent to politics as it is, first and foremost, concerned with the configuration and experience of space. Just as examining the punishments for breaking the veil ban can map the terrain of French politics, a representational genealogy of street artist's deployment of hijab and female Muslim identity can assist in mining the depths of public space as a site of bio-political control and contestation in light of recent events in France and the rising tide of anti-multiculturalist rhetoric across Europe, even though the Islamic presence there is radically heterogenous. Using the work of Shepard Fairey, Princess Hijab, br1, and Banksy, this paper sets out to answer a number of key questions concerning the deployment of hijab, and female Islamic identity in particular, within street art as a movement now integral to and critical of the economies of exchange underlying global capitalism, which as a force of influence cannot be underestimated as a driver in the resurgence of nationalist biopolitical governmentalities. Although there exists a litany of artists to choose from, the aforementioned quartet of designers integrate hijab into their work in a seminal and critical fashion, and all have been working with the veil in some way prior to the French ban, which grants some additional context to their usage of it as a symbol in regards to the breakdown of multiculturalism across Europe, even if unconsciously. Although each artist depicts various amalgamations of hijab in their respective corpus, they share common tropes that raise significant questions concerning the veil debate, namely: what are the conditions of possibility for hijab to become a marker of Islamic identity within public space? How can we make sense of the representational topologies within street art's utilization of the hijab and female Islamic identity in light of the French ban? How might these aesthetic imag(in)ings simultaneously inhabit and combat normative discourses concerning hijab , multiculturalism, female Islamic identity, and public space? With these considerations as a backdrop, it is first necessary to outline more fully the hijab as a representative marker of female Islamic identity. The (Veiled) Writing on the Wall

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Das in Zusammenarbeit der Westfälischen Wilhelms-Universität Münster und der Ungarischen Akademie in Rom im Oktober 1996 durchgeführte internationale Symposium war den Forschungen der letzten Jahrzehnte zu S. Stefano Rotondo in Rom gewidmet. Der daraufhin publizierte Tagungsband präsentiert neben den Ergebnissen der Bauuntersuchung der frühchristlichen Kirche Beobachtungen zu Materialverwendung und Bautechnik, Beiträge zur Ausstattung des Baus und deren Restaurierung, sowie kunsthistorische Studien zur neuzeitlichen Malerei und Plastik und historische Abhandlungen zur spätmittelalterlichen und neuzeitlichen Nutzungsgeschichte und zum spezifischen Verhältnis der Ungarn zu (...) S. Stefano Rotondo und zu Rom. Sie sind in vier Abschnitten versammelt: I. Archäologie und Baugeschichte: C. Pavolini, La sommità del Celio in età imperiale: dai culti pagani orientali al culto cristiano (S. 17–27); E. Lissi Caronna, Edifici, fasi edilizie, demolizioni, riempimenti nell'area della basilica di Santo Stefano Rotondo (S. 29–33); H. Brandenburg, S. Stefano Rotondo, der letzte Großbau der Antike in Rom. Die Typologie des Baues, die Ausstattung der Kirche, die kunstgeschichtliche Stellung des Kirchenbaues und seiner Ausstattung (S. 35–65); P. Pensabene, Trasformazione urbana e reimpiego a Roma tra la seconda metà del IV e i primi decenni del V secolo (S. 67–84); K. Ringle – S. Landes, Der Einsatz der Photogrammetrie bei der Aufnahme der Kirche in S. Stefano Rotondo in Rom (S. 85–96). II. Kunstgeschichte und Architektur: M. Nimmo, S. Stefano: la recinzione dell'altare di mezzo (S. 97–109); V. Biermann, Die Vita der heiligen Paulus von Theben und Stephanus: Ein neuentdeckter monochromer Gemäldezyklus des 16. Jahrhunderts in der Portikus von S. Stefano Rotondo in Rom (S. 111–127); L. Salviucci Insolera, Gli affreschi del ciclo dei martiri commissionati al Pomarancio in rapporto alla situazione religiosa ed artistica della seconda metà del Cinquecento (S. 129–137). III. Restaurierung: M. Lolli-Ghetti, Basilica di S. Stefano Rotondo, Capella dei SS. Primo e Feliciano, restauro della pavimentazione paleocristiana in opus sectile (S. 139–143); M.G. Filetici, Il restauro del mitreo di Santo Stefano Rotondo nel quadro degli interventi di conservazione dei monumenti archeologici al Celio (S. 145–150); G. Basile, Il restauro del mosaico absidale della Capella dei Santi Primo e Feliciano in Santo Stefano Rotondo a Roma (S. 151–153). IV. Geschichte: J. Krähling, László Gerö und die Basilika Santo Stefano Rotondo (S. 155–157); J. Pál, La fondazione del primo Collegio Ungarico a Roma (1579) (S. 159–164); Á. Vladár, Sulla importanza e sul ruolo determinante della chiesa Santo Stefano Rotondo nella storia degli Ungheresi (S. 165–169); A. Kubinyi, Ungarn in Rom im Spätmittelalter (S. 171–180); P. Sárközy, Il Santo Stefano Rotondo nella storia culturale ungherese (S. 181–188); L. Weinrich, Der Pönitentiar Valentin und die Paulinermönche in S. Stefano Rotondo (S. 189–198). (shrink)

continent. 2.3 (2012): 218–223 Vijay Prashad. Arab Spring, Libyan Winter . Oakland: AK Press. 2012. 271pp, pbk. $14.95 ISBN-13: 978-1849351126. Nearly a decade ago, I sat in a class entitled, quite simply, “Corporations,” taught by Vijay Prashad at Trinity College. Over the course of the semester, I was amazed at the extent of Prashad’s knowledge, and the complexity and erudition of his style. He has since authored a number of classic books that have gained recognition throughout the world. The Darker (...) Nations , a peoples’ history of the Third World, sent defibrillating shockwaves through an academic world that had almost forgotten the epic scope and historic dignity of the non-aligned movement and post-colonial struggles. In his recent, award-winning work, Arab Spring, Libyan Winter , Prashad delves into his capacious knowledge of the Third World to excavate the discourses and narratives surrounding the upheavals of 2011. “Revolutions have no specific timetable,” states Prashad in the opening line of this exciting and provocative look at contemporary events. Instantly, an atmosphere of suspense emerges. The reader is alerted to the problem of history. Does the making of history then involve a suspension of historical time, or is it a continuous narrative structure into which events must eventually be integrated? Arab Spring, Libyan Winter shows that the answer to the question, “How is history made?” lies just as easily in the asking. The first half of the book works through the events that transpired to bring about the explosive popular uprisings of Arab Spring: Tunisia and Egypt, Yemen and Bahrain. But the events are not put together in a cohesive, chronological fashion. Using an uncommonly gripping style more akin to the folk-story motif of the djeli than to traditionally Orientalist academia, Prashad suspends a given situation, points out its components, and traces back the characters and genealogies that define each link before resuming a narrative. Every moment is an end to itself, and an origin of something different. Thus, the making of history becomes the suspension of its own progress, it’s catastrophic 'stability,' in a process of differentiation through inclusion. Empirically, one might suggest that history is a condition of time, and by extension, of the subject, but history is also an eminent producer of the Subject and her concept of time through memory and narrative. Hence, history is often overdetermined by a dominant narrative of the sovereign. The apparently chaotic composition of Prashad’s historicity is, then, an interstitial morphology of resistance. It illustrates that the time to act for the revolutionary lies in the gaps within the dominant historical realities. It points out the sorties of signifiers constituting nothing in the obliterated ruins of history. Through such illuminations, Arab Spring, Libyan Winter breaks through “the surface of history” to elaborate revolution’s snapping synapses, exploding interruptions and breaches, connecting flows. Messianic Politics It is tempting to think, 'History is either singular, or it is diffuse. It is either one coherent factual narrative, or it is comprised of the aletheia of the multitude.' Yet the reader finds Prashad examining the structure of history on multiple levels. For Prashad, world history is shaped by geographically defined political movements, such as communism or national liberation, with historical agents like the working class for the former and the nationalist militant for the latter. Religion, however, is another matter: “Religion has an unshakable eschatology which a post-utopian secular politics lacks.” Within the telos of religion, there appears on the horizon the image of Benjamin’s thoughts on messianic time—time as “a small fissure in the continuous catastrophe,” a break with history, may contain an ultimate redemption of the human beyond the political power struggle. Succoring the split between geo-political and utopian-religious (messianic) time in the context of Arab Spring, Prashad indicates that the base of “the deep desire and commitment to some form of democracy” is forged by the affinity between eschatological Islamist politics with the People. To think about the Subject of messianic time in the context of the lack of a “coherent timetable” for emancipatory politics, it is perhaps best to return to the modern tradition of Martin Luther King, Jr., whose prefigurative blending of liberation theology and emancipatory politics became most important during his works of 1963, the climactic year of “The Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” the March on Washington, and the bombing of the 16th Street Baptist Church. In “The Letter,” King states the point bluntly: Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct-action campaign that was “well timed” in view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word “wait!” It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This “Wait” has almost always meant ‘Never.” We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that “justice too long delayed is justice denied.” The timing of rebellious action must not be a part of history. It must change history. The kairos appears spontaneous and untimely in its convulsive, shocking presence, yet it is, deeper still, a path, a longue durée , forged through diligent and rigorous praxis. King put a finer point on the path of historic liberation in his declaration in his 1963 speech at Western Michigan University: “[T]ime is neutral.... Somewhere along the way we must see that time will never solve the problem alone but that we must help time. Somewhere we must see that human progress never rolls in on the wheels on inevitability. It comes through the tireless efforts and the persistent work of dedicated individuals who are willing to be co-workers with God. Without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the insurgent and primitive forces of irrational emotionalism and social stagnation. We must always help time and realize that the time is always right to do right.” Time, then, exists in “the neutral,” while action must turn to the kairos , not only of taking time, but taking the right time. By turning our relation to time into kairos , we move time from its context within history to a duration between histories—the longue dure?e of Messianic time. The implementation of neutrality in this context suggests a broad space of time to extend through the valley of positive and negative. In Roland Barthes’s lectures from 1978, the neutral takes place in this minimal distance of non-conflict that exists outside of two extremes. It is, in the words of Maurice Blanchot, “the non-general, the non-generic, as well as the non-specific.” For Blanchot, the neutrality of time permeates life as death, impassive and beyond control; such is the neutrality of messianic time, which permeates the charge of history, changing the "I" into the "one." The neutrality of time therefore implicates history in a case against extremism, showing that the work of the radical is not to tend to any particular side, but to have the time to navigate through the terrible terrain of history by altering its course, its patterns and rhythms of movement, connection, sociality. Hence, one does not simply “make history,” one alters the course of history in accordance to “the right time.” The historical path toward emerging power is transmitted as a gesture to the outside of history, against history; a gesture as simple as reaching out. Thus a counterhistory, to use Foucault’s term, is brought forward as the guide of time past a point of no return, a Rubicon, the point where the normal path of history falls to the past. The subject, who must be the only true agent of history, facilitates time through helpfulness, and both the Subject and her history become decentered in relation to one another. Yet history negates the neutrality of time. As Barthes discloses, although the neutral is the “thought and practice of the nonconflictual, it is nevertheless bound to assertion, to conflict, in order to make itself heard.” Engaged with history, time is charged with a destiny, and becomes an opposition. As Prashad insists, “For Arab lands, the events of early 2011 were not the inauguration of a new history, but the continuation of an unfinished struggle that is a hundred years old.” The emergence of the Subject during Arab Spring did not conceive of a new history, but changed the path of history toward a different destiny. “Historical grievances combined with inflationary pressures now met with the subjective sense that victory might be at hand—this was not simply a protest to scream into the wind, but a protest to actually remove autocrats from their positions of authority. The facts of resistance had given way to the expectation of revolutionary change.” The negativity of this charge toward “revolutionary destiny” rendered control, as a positive force, seriously lacking. The lack of control lies in the problem that the Subject is not totally detemporalized or timeless, but untimely in her presence. The Subject is untimely, because her work is visionary, and it is only through such visionary work that the Rubicon can be crossed. Still, the crossing of this border is haunted by anxiety over an impending disaster that lays in wait. It is only through the form of what Benjamin calls divine violence, captivated not with the justice of the means, but the ends—the transformation of history—that a revelation of history’s traumatic foundations can be liberated, and patterns and rhythms of time developed throughout obscured traditions awakened. In this situation, the Subject appears to be outside of right, but setting the state to rights. Because her position is correct, in-so-far as the rebelling subject rebels due to a lack of recognition, her representation appears outside of the norm, which is mistaken as right. Therefore, such visionary work must be carried out through obscured traditions, underground, away from the surveillance of empire. Explaining his method from the start along the lines of Marx’s metaphor of the mole, Prashad insists, “It is the burrowing that is essential, not simply the emergence onto the surface of history.” Arab Spring, Libyan Winter is a book on uncharted networks of time, spread out over the 252 pages like an elaborate spider’s web of passages intertwining with and overwhelming the machinery of the state. Although untimely, Arab Spring was not a flash in the pan, or a Facebook or Twitter revolution. Prashad notes that the government’s suspension of these tools led to further radicalism by furthering communications through face-to-face encounters. In existential terms, Arab Spring might be thought of as a revolution of Being over techne , an uprising of the unchartable, infinite potential of the Other. The name of this Other is found in Chance. The faith of the revolution lies in the proper decentering of the subject, its giving to the Other of time, for only with respect to time does history actually appear on the horizon of the subject, rather than as an imposition. This time of historical agency appears as a moment when anything can happen—a revolutionary truth event where everything comes into question while being realized in its Otherness as a community of the people begins anew in the streets amidst discourse, friendship, reconfigurations of hegemony, and a becoming of a constituent power. Throwing a wrench into the gears of the “cobwebbed tradition” of Orientalism, the decentering of history in Arab Spring, Libyan Winter is a defining quality of its impassioned revolutionary cry. But perhaps the most paradigmatic points of the book emerge from the unexpected voices. To make the connection between the particular manifestations of revolutionary demands to the general historic terms of revolution, Prashad quotes an anonymous young Egyptian in Tahrir Square, who reminds us, “[T]he French Revolution took a very long time so the people could eventually get their rights.” Far from timelessness, the historicization of Arab Spring must exist precisely within the most uncanny appearance of time, as something that does not appear to come from the natural state of time as we know it, but in arriving has completely transformed the way that we understand time. Strange Monsters Revolution is never as simple as a revolt from below against a rusting structure of elites trying to remain in power. As with the French Revolution, Arab Spring consisted of complex familial ties, outside interests, and religious factions fighting alongside, often in awkward juxtaposition to, liberals, working class parties, farmers, and students. It is perhaps because of this historically difficult and incongruous composition that the Arabic word for revolution is thawra , referring to the image of the bull, or thawr , which has religious significance as a pagan deity for the Ancient Semitic tribes and Cartheginians. If Daniel Guérin was correct in saying, “Anarchism and Marxism drink from the same spring,” then it is quite a different oasis that drove the thirsty beast of revolution through what Prashad calls, “the Libyan labyrinth.” Recalling Bataille’s Acéphale, the intestinal labyrinth gains significance as the mode of metabolism and rumination in which, “(the Acephale) has lost himself, loses me with him, and in which I discover myself as him, in other words, as a monster.” Unraveling the discourse of the revolution, the flows of power and hegemony—from Qaddafi’s nationalist coup in 1969 to the wars with Chad from 1978 to 1987, the neoliberal reforms of the 1990s to, finally, the War on Terror—we find that the metabolic process of Libyan Winter ends in the production of oil. In a process of what Prashad calls “involution,” Qaddafi’s bellicose policies, along with his attempts to nationalize Islam together with oil, mutated the source of his power, turning his house against itself. Already a divided nation, with its two major cities on opposite geographic sides of the country, Libya became split between two opposed political powers—liberal reformists and staunch nationalists—as Qaddafi’s political disengagement manifested through what can only be described in psychoanalytic terms as a recursive passage a l’act (mysteriously calling Wikipedia “Kleenex,” declaring that opponents drank hallucinogens with their instant coffee, and so on). Prashad declares, “The mercurial style that Qaddafi adopted was not about his personality alone, but also a leader’s natural response to a system that relied upon power brokers whose own loyalty… did not have any ideological commitment to the system.” As in the case of other nations during Arab Spring, the true expression of revolt was an outward exposition of what had inwardly been happening in microcosmic societies throughout the realm—from indigenous tribes to political parties, for a century, the people, partly motivated by (and in resistance to) economic impositions of development, had been changing the traditional social compositions and participating in what Ruth Wilson Gilmore calls, “the relative autonomy of the movement from the leaders.” It was this empowerment of political reconfigurations taking place under the context of new democratic assemblages that shocked the elites and evoked such a powerful response. Unlike Qaddafi’s awkward policy choices and rants, real acts of power from the West were clear and decisive. Prashad sets the stages of war and diplomacy, far removed from the deserts, mountains, and cities that forged the backdrop of popular politics. Taking place under the now-classic architecture of the “four pillars” of US interests—oil, the War on Terror, Israel, and the circumvention of Iranian hegemony—we find elites rubbing elbows in “Heliopolist cocktail parties and hushed conferences in Kasr al-Ittihadiya” as well as the Concorde-Lafayette hotel in Paris, which provides the setting for a meeting of anti-Qaddafi figures consolidating their power. These scenes are buttressed with the careful portraiture of key historical actors. As Prashad brings the stage of history to life, we find the diplomats and liberals like Frank Wisner, whose career has brought him from Enron in the late 1990s to the Obama Administration, under the aegis of which he was meeting with Mubarak about military support during Arab Spring. We spy the provocateurs, for instance, gauche cavalier , Bernard Henri-Levy, who telephones Sarkozy from Benghazi about the need for more NATO air strikes. We follow the rebel military establishment as it suffers mysterious deaths and even more mysterious assents (like that of apparent CIA cohort, Khalifa Hifter). In each of these intriguing characters, we find different representations of the security state biopolitique: an oil-injected reification that drives Arab Spring from the resentment of rising food prices to the brink of implosion in Libyan Winter. Reminiscent of the scenes of Cold War soirées represented in old Bond films, the aristocratic fight for oil against democracy that was Libyan Winter presents a harsh truth that the new global crisis is simply the continuation of the old history: the global exploitation of capitalism waged against the imagination of the people. As Benjamin laments, “The labyrinth is the right path for the person who always arrives early enough at his destination. This destination is the marketplace.” Yet, “(t)he labyrinth is the habitat of… a humanity (a class) which does not want to know where its destiny is taking it.” Thus, the labyrinth leads, like the desert, only further into itself. As Blanchot explains, “The desert is even less certain than the world; it is never anything but the approach to the desert.” Only the visionary can take time out of the involution toward oblivion. It is here, in this approach to and escape from history, that we find ourselves within Benjamin’s Golgotha, Blanchot’s desert: A space of indeterminate uncertainty where we become familiar only with our own exile. Blanchot writes, “For the moderated and moderate man, the room, the desert, and the world are strictly determined places. For the man of the desert and the labyrinth, devoted to the error of a journey necessarily a little longer than his life, the same space will be truly infinite, even if he knows that it is not, all the more so since he knows it.” The desert, as allegory, provides an eschatology, a mortality in the destiny of Arab Spring. But any allegory of nature might lead to a labyrinthine eschatology (for example, in Bachelard, the forest presents "a limitless world"); the prescience of the untimely is always an uncanny acceptance of the infinite within the finite—the outside of what is understood. Transgenerational and occupied with the image of the future, the untimely makes otherness its home as it proceeds toward liberation. In the work of helping time navigate this dangerous passage of history, Prashad illustrates that the more violent break with history may have occurred in the peaceable struggles of Tahrir Square, and not in the military clashes of Qaddafi with his former Generals who defected to the CIA and NATO countries. It might be possible to suggest, then, that in the case of Tunisia and Egypt, the historical subject of the people was drawn together in a Dionysian dance of different rhythms in the marvelous realm of the ancients, while we fear that the case of Libya suggests an Apollonian future where time, itself, may lay dying under the machinic hand of history. The properly Nietzschean inversion would follow: time is dead, for history has killed it. Yet, if time is dead, struck down in Golgotha, exposed in the desert, mauled by the thawra , it is only in the present sense that it is rendered impossible outside of the context into which the untimely has thrown us. Thus, if history becomes an art of revolution, life as being-towards-death (death as the provocation of the neutrality of time) becomes what Benjamin calls “the allegory of resurrection” through the glorious ruins of history. Prashad ends his work with a rousing finale: “The time of the impossible has presented itself. In Egypt, where the appetite for the possibilities of the future are greatest, the people continue to assert themselves into Tahrir Square and other places, pushing to reinvigorate a Revolution that must not die… For them the slogan is simple: Down with the Present. Long live the Future. May it be so.&rdquo. (shrink)