Woe to him who has no friend, for his enemy
will bring him up for trial.
Woe to him who has no enemy, for I shall be
his enemy on Judgment Day.
Carl Schmitt, Ex Captivitate salus
Contents
1. Introduction . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 11
2. Metaphysical Character . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 21
Psychology of a Pessimist . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 25
2.1 Philosophy of the Extreme . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 30
3. Sovereign and Law . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Miracle of the Real . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Panopticon and the “Founding Rupture” . . . . . . . . . . . . .
German Stock . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
43
58
67
78
4. The Concept of the Political . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
State-monster . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Agon and Tragedy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
The Enemy among Us . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
83
89
98
107
5. Liberal Pathos . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
5.1 Total state . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
5.2 Parliamentarism and democracy . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Either / or or And . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Between Identity and Representation . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
5.3 Dictatorship and myth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
113
115
120
121
133
140
6. The Nomos of the Earth . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Smooth and Striated . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
6.1 Jus publicum Europaeum . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
Pirates and Partisans . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .
149
162
172
175
7. Political Theology . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 189
Christ, Antichrist and History . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 191
8. A Philosophy of Concrete Life . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 203
9. Bibliography . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 219
8
Preface
The initial manuscript for this book was based on the introductory
lectures on Schmitt which I held at the University of Jyväskylä in the
autumn of 1998. Since then, however, both the form and the content of
the text have changed quite a lot. Besides of introducing Schmitt’s ideas,
I have tried to disclose the common “metaphysical core” of Schmitt’s
central ideas and concepts. Moreover, I have extended the work to include a comparison of Schmitt’s thought with the thought of some of
the prominent political theorists in late modernity, including Hannah
Arendt, Michel Foucault and Gilles Deleuze. What comes to the technical details of the work, I have made use of all the available translations
of Schmitt’s texts in English. Therefore, all the references are to translations. Insofar as an English translation has not been available, translations are mine. But sometimes I have also slightly altered the available
translation, neither for the reasons of style nor for those of accuracy but
rather because of the logic of my own argument.
I owe special thanks to Soili Petäjäniemi-Brown who not only corrected my English but gave me a lot of stimulating comments. I also
want to thank Professor Dal Lago who invited me at the University of
Genoa in the spring of 1998 and thereby made it possible to start the
work, and Professor Sakari Hänninen whose project “Displacement of
Politics” (1999–2001) enabled me to continue the research. However,
without a possibility to work as a fellow at the Helsinki Collegium for
Advanced Studies during 2003 I could not have completed the work.
Finally, I want to thank my colleagues Elisa Heinämäki, Markku Koivusalo, Panu Minkkinen, and Henri Vogt for the highly valued comments.
9
Preface to the Second Edition
The second edition of A Philosophy of Concrete Life includes some
considerable changes, the purpose of which is to explicate and elucidate
the original argument.
10
1. Introduction
We are all navigators on an endless journey and
no book is more than a logbook
Carl Schmitt, Völkerrechtliche Großraumordnung
Ever since political thought declined into a mere calculation and classification of empirical phenomena under the auspices of scientific positivism, an obvious vacuum has existed in the conceptualization of modern politics. It is true that a kind of renaissance in political theory is
occurring at present. But it seems at times that this rebirth amounts
only to a return to the past. Politics is practice – speech and action – and
it should not be framed in terms of those abstract rationalistic models
that have recently been proposed as a foundation for political thought.
John Rawls sums up the point of departure for these models when he
delineates the foundations of his theory of justice. He suggests a model
that “generalizes and carries to a higher level of abstraction the traditional conception of the social contract”,1 which in itself has traditionally been one of the most abstract of all political abstractions.
The critique of abstractions in political theory does not entail, however, that the only alternative left would be the empirical study of politics. Neither does it mean that we should merely resort to the kind of
historical analysis, which explores the political events and concepts of
the past step by step. In fact, the assault of conceptual historians on
political theory – and on the history of ideas – resembles in some respects the assault which the positivists launched on political theory after
the Second World War. We do, indeed, need a political theory. But a
theory which is not somehow related to concrete historical conditions
1
John Rawls, Theory of Justice. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard
University Press 1972, p. 15.
11
and events is necessarily empty – as for instance in the case of contemporary social theory. In it, society is often depicted as an automatically
functioning abstract system within which different subsystems, the socalled political system included, form relatively independent entities
with their own trajectories. Such an approach is problematic because it
almost by necessity dismisses the political dimension of human existence. And it dismisses that dimension for a simple reason: politics and
systems are mutually exclusive. Where there is a system, there is no
politics. Therefore, we need an alternative approach which, instead of
the imaginary abstractions of political philosophy and the empty systems of social theory, starts with the intricate reality of politics – without resorting to easy empiricism. What is called for, then, is an alternative way of theorizing politics.
In this respect, the work done by the German constitutional jurist
Carl Schmitt (1888–1985) is among the most promising of the last
century. On the one hand, the acuity of Schmitt’s thought lies in his
ability to avoid universals and abstractions, which have no reference to
a concrete instance or to the concrete state of things. On the other hand,
it lies in his capacity to make immediately comprehensible conceptual
distinctions, yet without forgetting the demands of generality posed to
theoretical thinking. This dual intention becomes manifest already in
the name of his approach, combining philosophy and life: “A philosophy of concrete life.”2 Despite the name, however, we should not identify Schmitt’s philosophy of concrete life with the philosophy of life that
was in vogue in Germany and especially in France at the turn of the 20th
century. Schmitt’s thought does not display a tendency towards organic
thinking or metaphysics of life. Admittedly, he argues that there exists a
metaphysical core in the work of every author: “The thought and feeling
of every person always retain a certain metaphysical character.”3 But in
2
3
12
Carl Schmitt, Political Theology (1922). Cambridge: The MIT Press 1985,
p. 15.
Carl Schmitt, Political Romanticism (1919). Cambridge: The MIT Press 1986,
p. 18.
Schmitt’s case this core is not life as such “in its complete spiritual emptiness and mere dynamic”;4 it is what he calls the concrete. The aim of
this book is to examine the nature and meaning of this concreteness and
its philosophy.
Providing a systematic treatment of Schmitt’s work is not the purpose of this text. Neither do I wish to locate Schmitt’s thought in its
exact historical or conceptual context.5 This context is, without doubt,
interesting and perhaps it is impossible to understand Schmitt’s real
intentions without a good understanding of it. But I am not a historian
but a political theorist and the task of a theorist is not to reduce ideas to
time and place or to reveal the true intentions of writers of times past.
Rather, his task is to free ideas from their historical and psychological
circumstances and in so doing to actualize them.6 According to Julien
Freund, there are indeed two ways of approaching Schmitt’s work:
4
5
6
Schmitt, Political Romanticism, pp. 17–18.
An excellent recent example of a systematic and contextualizing study is Gopal
Balakrishnan’s The Enemy: An Intellectual Portrait of Carl Schmitt. London:
Verso 2000.
By actualization I do not mean that Schmitt’s ideas should be actualized in
today’s politics. In this sense, his ideas are already actual – for instance in the
neoconservative thought of American republicanism. For example, when the
neoconservative Irvin Kristol summarized the neoconservative beliefs concerning foreign policy, he came to summarize some of Schmitt’s central beliefs: “First, patriotism is a natural and healthy sentiment and should be encouraged by both private and public institutions. Second, world government
is a terrible idea since it can lead to world tyranny. International institutions
that point to an ultimate world government should be regarded with the
deepest suspicion. Third, statesmen should, above all, have the ability to distinguish friends from enemies.” Irvin Kristol, “The Neoconservative Persuasion.” The Weekly Standard 25 august 2003. For me, actualization signifies
bringing to light the metaphysical foundations of Schmitt’s political thought
in order to develop intellectual weapons not only for the battle against the
neoconservative beliefs but also for the critique of Schmitt and of the political
thought of late modernity in general.
13
Either taking into account the context in which they were written, the
author’s personal positions, his vacillations and sympathies, which themselves
changed; or by focusing on the strong points in his thought without reference
to particular circumstances. 7
Of course, even the “strong points” are strong only in a given historical
situation. Therefore, a total neglect of the context would lead to misinterpreting the strong points as well. In this book the context is not,
however, limited to the exact juridical or political discourse of Schmitt’s
time. It spans, instead, the late modernity – from the turbulent year of
1848 onwards – in general, concentrating in particular on what Schmitt
calls the conceptual articulation (begrifflichen Verarbeitung) of the social
structure of the epoch. My intention is, in fact, to utilize Schmitt’s own
method of the “sociology of concepts”. According to Schmitt, the sociology of concepts attempts first to “discover the basic, radically systematic
[conceptual] structure” of the work of an author.8 In the case of a given
literary work, the radically systematic conceptual structure constitutes its
metaphysical core, revealing the “metaphysical character” of the author.
As already mentioned, Schmitt holds that the “thought and feeling” of
every person always retain a certain metaphysical character. The task of
the sociology of concepts is to reveal this character. Second, the sociology
of concepts compares this “metaphysical character” of an author with the
“conceptually articulated social structure” of his epoch.9 Moreover, insofar as metaphysics also represents, in Schmitt’s view, the “most intensive and clearest expression of an epoch”, the approach culminates in a
comparison of the “metaphysical character” of an author with the “metaphysical image” (metaphysische Bild) of the world of his epoch.10
7
8
9
10
14
Julien Freund, “Schmitt’s Political Thought.” Telos No 102, Winter 1995,
p. 40. A good example of a commentary in English in which both the context
and the “strong points” are considered is John P. McCormick, Carl Schmitt’s
Critique of Liberalism. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1997.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 45.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 45.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 46.
This is, in other words, the method of the work at hand. It aims at
grasping the metaphysical core of Schmitt’s political thought by juxtaposing it with the metaphysical image of the world in late modernity.
I admit that this approach can appear partially illegitimate given that
Schmitt himself emphasized that all political concepts, images, and terms
have a polemical meaning: “They are focused on a specific conflict and
are bound to a concrete situation.”11 Therefore they remain incomprehensible if one does not know exactly who is to be affected, combated,
refuted or negated by these terms.12 Nevertheless, there exists a concept – or rather an image of thought – which is not merely focused on
a specific conflict in a concrete situation but transcends it in Schmitt’s
thought. There exists a certain metaphysical character, which corresponds
to the metaphysical image of the world of late modernity. Primarily,
this character pertains to Schmitt’s conception according to which the
foundation of collective human existence is constituted by conflict. This
is not only a polemical formulation, but also a metaphysical claim. But
it does not suffice to say that conflict constitutes the metaphysical core
of Schmitt’s thought – he does not claim, for instance, that humankind
would be in the middle of a war of all against all. Instead, one has to
examine the role of conflict in the general structure of Schmitt’s thought.
Contrary to what is sometimes claimed, such a structure does exist. We
can call this structure metaphysical because it is axiomatic, in other
words, there exists an axis which is relatively stable and which orients
his thought.
For a start, we can state that the axis which orients Schmitt’s thought
is the juxtaposition inside versus outside. In his view, there is no inside
without outside, no order without disorder, no cosmos without chaos.
There is no delimited space without a space that remains outside the
limits, because life, the movement of living history, presupposes a space
of the outside, an “empty space”:
11
12
Carl Schmitt, The Concept of the Political (1932). Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press 1996, p. 30.
Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 30.
15
There is no movement without an empty space. There is no law [Recht] without a free space either. All normative comprehension and delimitation of
space presuppose a free space which rests outside, beyond the law. Freedom
is freedom of movement, nothing else. What would be terrifying is a world
in which there no longer existed an exterior [Ausland] but only a homeland [Inland], no longer space [Spielraum] for measuring and testing one’s
strength freely.13
In this structure, the space of the outside – the space of conflict – is
primary. Hence, Schmitt turns inside out the structuring hierarchy of
classical modern political theory, characterized by the exclusion of disorder from order, war from peace, and the state of nature from political
order. This is not to say that Schmitt simply affirms disorder and war.
On the contrary, throughout his work, he emphasizes the necessity of
tranquility, security, and order. But in his view there is no tranquility,
security, and order without the recognition that disorder and war are
the ever-present possibilities of every order and peace – or better still,
that every order is created out of disorder.
For Schmitt, the decisive place in this configuration is the borderline between inside and outside, between order and disorder. It is this
position of in-between which guarantees that the inside remains open
to the outside and the movement of living history continues. All of
Schmitt’s central concepts orient themselves to this position which is
also why he calls them borderline concepts (Grenzbegriff ). A borderline
concept indicates the extreme sphere of an order – the point at which a
given order opens up to the outside, that is to say, to disorder and chaos.
Nevertheless, this extreme sphere is also the point at which the order is
created and maintained. Therefore, Schmitt insists that the one who
occupies this sphere – the position of in-between – possesses the decisive political authority. He is the sovereign. Or better still, the one who
decides on the borderline becomes the sovereign, because it is the deci-
13
16
Carl Schmitt, Glossarium – Aufzeichnungen der Jahre 1947–1951. Berlin:
Duncker & Humblot 1988, p. 37.
sion that discloses who has political authority. It is the decision that
occupies the position of in-between, which is also to say that the position of in-between is not, in the final analysis, a position at all. Rather,
it is a non-position, the pure event of a decision. In this sense, as I will
argue in this book, Schmitt’s political philosophy is above all a philosophy of the event. For Schmitt, it is always the event (Ereignis) which
founds an order14 – the event of the extreme.
* * *
What makes the study of Carl Schmitt’s theoretical work complicated is
his decision to join the National-Socialistic Party (NSDP) in February
1933. Joining the Party in Germany was not unusual at that time but
among the intellectuals it was rare. Only one other intellectual of major
importance had actually joined, namely Martin Heidegger. To be sure,
in 1936 Schmitt was relieved from all of his positions of trust by the
Party. He was accused of opportunism and ideological impurity, for
instance of Catholicism, Hegelianism, of reluctance to think in purely
racial terms and even of anti-Nazism.15 But he was allowed to keep his
position as a professor of jurisprudence in Berlin and, like Heidegger,
he remained a member of the Party until the end of the Second World
War. After the war he was arrested on suspicion of being involved in the
politics of expansion but his prosecution was waived. After that he did
not regain a position at a university or in any other institution in the
Federal Republic of Germany.
14
15
Carl Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth in the International Law of the Jus Publicum Europaeum (1950). New York: Telos Press 2003, pp. 46, 78, 83.
Before the elections on 31 July 1932 Schmitt in fact wrote: “Anyone who
allows the National Socialists to obtain the majority on 31 July, even if he is
not a National Socialist and sees in this party only the lesser of evils, is acting
foolishly.” Cited in Balakrishnan, The Enemy, p. 156.
17
Without going into the details of this sad but in many respects
consistent political adventure,16 I want to point out that Schmitt’s relation to Heidegger is not only political but also intellectual. Both of
them criticized the individualization and technologization of the West.
Both also emphasized the primacy of exception in relation to the ordinary, the necessity of decision-making and the importance of human
rootedness in soil. And finally, both had a strong desire to overcome
abstract philosophical speculation and to proceed toward a philosophy
of concrete life – of facticity as Heidegger put it. This does not mean,
however, that Schmitt would have wanted to surpass metaphysics. For
him, metaphysics was always “something unavoidable”.17 The proximity of metaphysics to life, as well as the resemblance of theology to politics, were issues he never ceased to emphasize.
Despite this thematic continuity in his thinking, it is possible to
outline two important, although still relative, shifts of emphasis in
Schmitt’s work. The first one is related to the subject matter of his research, the second one to his approach. In the beginning, approximately
until 1936, the subjects of Schmitt’s research were mainly constitutional
16
17
18
“I am an intellectual adventurer”, says Schmitt. See Carl Schmitt, “Interrogation of Carl Schmitt by Robert Kempner.” Telos No 72, Summer 1987, p. 103.
However, every adventurer’s route has some consistency and Schmitt’s adventure includes, as far as I can see, the following landmarks: Schmitt’s antipathy
to atheistic socialism and agnostic liberalism but especially his anti-Semitism,
which was not based on the Nazi concept of race, but on a conviction according to which Judaism and Christianity are mutually exclusive truths. Moreover, one can approach Schmitt’s commitment from the perspective of his
obsession with order and stability, unity of a people and the necessity of the
figure of an enemy for the creation and maintenance of that unity. Also his
opportunist view according to which a jurist must adjust to any situation
which “permits recognition of an authority” should be taken into consideration. On Schmitt’s anti-Semitism, see Raphael Gross, Carl Schmitt und die
Juden. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp 2000. Gross argues that anti-Semitism
forms the real substratum of Schmitt’s theoretical system as a whole.
See Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 17.
law and the foundations of state order. After 1936 his writings concerned increasingly the topics of international law and world politics. It
is usually thought that Schmitt moved away from the issues of domestic
politics because of their generally delicate and, as far as his person was
concerned, dangerous nature. Schmitt himself has even claimed that
the SS kept watch on his activities, publications, mail, and friends in
1936 –37.18 On the other hand, one must remember that this turn took
place at a time when the focus of political life in Germany moved towards international arenas, in other words, when Hitler’s ideology of
Lebensraum was transformed from an ideology into Nazi-Germany’s
concrete politics of expansion.
This change in subject matter was preceded by a shift in approach.
The early phase of Schmitt’s work can be called decisionist or, more
precisely, a phase of decisionist formalism. The approach is decisionist
insofar as the core of his juridical and political analyses is not, for instance, a valid norm or legal order but a decision which imposes a norm
and order. On the other hand, the approach is formalist to the extent
that the content of the decision-making is radically separated from the
act of decision itself, and the act receives an autonomous juristic value.
After the shift, around 1933, it is precisely this content-element, “the
political, social and economic meaning of concrete orders and institutions”,19 which becomes Schmitt’s focal point. However, even at this
stage the question is not whether a norm or legal order is valid or universally just, for Schmitt’s emphasis is on the historical continuity and a
total concept of law. Law (Recht) is identified with spatial order and
localization (nomos). (In fact, also this late phase can be further divided
into a phase which emphasizes the national origins of law – “all law
[Recht] is the law of a certain Volk”20 – and into one which emphasizes
18
19
20
See Schmitt, “Interrogation”, p. 106.
Carl Schmitt, “The Plight of European Jurisprudence” (1944). Telos No 83,
Spring 1990, p. 37.
Carl Schmitt, State, Movement, People (1933). Corvallis: Plutarch Press 2001,
p. 51. Translation altered.
19
the European origin of law and especially its relation to the tradition of
Roman law. It is possible to date this shift, surprisingly enough, to the
battle of Stalingrad.) If decisionist formalism can be considered a conservative thinker’s radical solution to the problem of modern nihilism,
then the thinking of concrete order (nomos) can be considered a more
traditional type of conservatism, with the reservation that even this approach includes one radical decisionist element, namely the non-anticipated event of appropriation.
20
2. Metaphysical Character
Everything must be forced to the extreme
Carl Schmitt, The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy
What constitutes the metaphysical character of Schmitt’s work? As already mentioned, the metaphysical character of a work can be revealed
only if the conceptually articulated social structure, and thereby the
metaphysical image of the world in a particular epoch, are properly
apprehended. What, then, is the metaphysical image of the world in
late modernity? In this study, the question is approached from the perspective immanent in Schmitt’s thought. In other words, my aim is to
reveal Schmitt’s metaphysical character by juxtaposing his central concepts with the metaphysical image that he himself constructs concerning late modernity. In Schmitt’s case this provides rather a natural point
of departure, not only because he considers political concepts to function as weapons in concrete political and intellectual confrontations,
but first and foremost because the task of his philosophy of concrete life
is to create concepts “out of the immanence of a concrete legal and
social order”.21
What, then, is Schmitt’s conception of the metaphysical image
of the world in the epoch of late modernity? In order to answer this
question, we have to consider Schmitt’s concept of an epoch (Epoche)
briefly. Schmitt’s clearest presentation of the concept of an epoch can
be found in an article from 1929, “The Age of Neutralizations and
Depoliticizations”. In this article, he argues that the “European mind”
21
Carl Schmitt, “Die Lage der europäischen Rechtswissenschaft” (1944). In
Verfassungsrechtliche Aufsätze aus den Jahren 1924–1954. Berlin: Duncker
& Humblot 1958, p. 427.
21
has traversed four different epochs and thereby four conceptually articulated social structures and metaphysical images since the 16th century. Here, he calls these successive epochs historical stages (Stufe):
There are four great, simple, secular stages corresponding to the four centuries and proceeding from the theological to the metaphysical sphere, from
there to the humanitarian-moral and finally to the economic sphere.22
In Schmitt’s view, at issue is neither a historical-philosophical law nor a
continuous line of progress or decline. In fact, the various stages are not
even mutually exclusive insofar as Schmitt argues that there is “always a
plurality of diverse, already spent stages coexisting”. The changing stages
concern only the fact
that in these four centuries of European history (1500–1800) the intellectual
vanguard changed, that its convictions and arguments continued to change,
as did the content of its intellectual interests, the basis of its actions, the secret
of its political success and the willingness of the great masses to be impressed
by certain suggestions.23
Of course, the question why a particular stage and thereby a certain
metaphysical image of the world prevail is not addressed here. In Schmitt’s
view, a stage becomes prevailing – or “central” (Zentralgebiet) – because
of an “elemental impulse” that has been decisive for European history,
described as a “striving for a neutral sphere”.24 According to Schmitt,
the Europeans have always strived for a neutral sphere – a sphere in
which they would reach a “common agreement through debates and
exchanges of opinion”25 – due to their will to overcome conflicts. In the
16th century, for instance, such a conflict took place in the sphere of
religion. It forced the Europeans to seek for a neutral sphere beyond
22
23
24
25
22
Carl Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations and Depoliticizations” (1929).
Telos No 96, Summer 1993, p. 131.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 132.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 137.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 137.
religious disputes. Such a sphere was reached, according to Schmitt, by
constructing a natural system of metaphysics and law. Nevertheless, the
new sphere, at first considered neutral, soon appears to become another
arena of struggle in which the “antithesis of men and interests unfold
with a new intensity”.26 In other words, the Europeans have always
wandered, in Schmitt’s view,
from a conflicting sphere [Kampfgebiet] to a neutral sphere [neutrales Gebiet],
and always the newly won neutral sphere has become immediately another
arena of struggle, once again necessitating the search for a new neutral sphere.27
Hence, even though the natural system of metaphysics and law, materializing in the absolute state of the 17th century, neutralized theological
struggles, it itself became immediately a new arena of struggle which
was not neutralized until a new neutral sphere had been reached in the
humanitarian-moral thought of the 18th century. According to Schmitt,
the struggles that soon arose within the humanitarian-moral sphere were
in turn neutralized by the liberal economic thinking and praxis in the
19th century which transformed the politicized morals of the previous
century into private ethics and aesthetics. But as soon as the state of
neutrality had been reached within the sphere of economy, it became a
new arena of major dispute as well, manifesting itself in the European
class struggle. In Schmitt’s view, however, the development of successive
stages does not stop here. In the 20th century, technology was brought
into play, attempting to neutralize not only economical disputes but all
other struggles as well:
Here all struggles and confusions of religious, national and social conflicts
were leveled into a neutral sphere. Technology appeared to be a sphere of
peace, understanding and reconciliation.28
26
27
28
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 138.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 138.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 139.
23
Without taking a stand on the correctness of Schmitt’s history of European epochs, of importance here is that the central sphere is, according
to Schmitt, the determining factum of the metaphysical image of the
world in an epoch: “All concepts derive their concrete historical content
from the situation of the central spheres and can only be grasped there
from.”29 Thus, to the extent that one takes seriously Schmitt’s sociology
of concepts, his concepts and thereupon the metaphysical character of
his thought can only be grasped from within the central sphere of his
own epoch, that is to say, from within the technological stage of the late
modern European spirit. But what does this entail? Does it, for instance,
entail that Schmitt’s concepts would accord with the metaphysics of
neutrality which recognizes only peace, understanding and reconciliation? This does not follow. As a matter of fact, his aim is to call into
question the neutrality of technology, that is to say, to politicize it.
However, in the project of politicizing the epoch of technology, Schmitt’s
own perspective remains an open question. Is he approaching the issue
from the perspective of a former stage of European history, for instance
the metaphysical 17th century that Schmitt calls the “heroic age of
occidental rationalism”?30 Given the fact that in his view a plurality of
already subsided stages continue to coexist in the current stage, and
that one of his aims is to revitalize the concept of the sovereign, so
essential to that “heroic age”, this would be a logical assumption to
make. Or perhaps we should find our point of reference even further
back in history, in the medieval world and the juristic rationality of the
Roman Church?
29
30
24
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 136
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 132.
Psychology of a Pessimist
This last interpretation is supported by the fact that Schmitt does
not cease to praise the Catholic counterrevolutionaries, Joseph de
Maistre and Juan Donoso Cortés, whose religious and medieval
mindset stubbornly opposed modernity in all its manifestations.
He praises these counterrevolutionaries for their style and their
thoroughly theologico-juridical way of thinking. He is also enthusiastic about their historical and psychological insightfulness, in
particular about their conception according to which man is an
inherently dangerous and corrupted being.
In turn of the century Germany, de Maistre and Donoso Cortés
were called romantics in Germany on account of their conservatism and reactionism. Schmitt wants to save them from this suspicion. According to him, the most peculiar feature of romanticism,
regardless of its traditionalism, is the conception of an “everlasting
conversation” in which such authentic romantics as Novalis and
Adam Müller experienced the “true realization of their spirits”.31
Schmitt accepts that romanticism had its own political form of
expression. However, the political activism of political romantics is
characterized, on the one hand, by a continuous oscillation between contradictory attitudes and principles. On the other hand,
it is characterized by a factual indifference concerning concrete
political issues. Hence, the real and only achievement of political
romanticism is, concludes Schmitt, the aestheticization of politics.
All political issues are considered merely as occasions for self-expression and exercises in aesthetic imagination.32
According to Schmitt, de Maistre and Donoso could not understand moral oscillation and considered the everlasting conversation as a product of a “gruesomely comic fantasy”.33 Instead of
31
32
33
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 53.
See Schmitt, Political Romanticism, pp. 1–21.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 53.
25
oscillation and conversation, they thrust the decision at the heart
of their philosophy. Schmitt concedes that they may have been
conservatives, but not extreme traditionalists, since they held that
traditionalism leads to an irrational rejection of conscious decision. De Maistre valued the act of decision as such, and believed
that regarding the most fundamental issues, making a decision is
more important than how the decision is actually made. This conviction prompted him to suggest that every government is absolute, but while an anarchist would state it in order to reproach
authority, de Maistre declares authority to be good as such.34
Schmitt interprets the development from de Maistre to Donoso
as a development from legitimacy to dictatorship. Simultaneously,
it represents a turn towards a more pessimistic conception of man.
Already de Maistre had wanted to demonstrate the danger inherent in the nature of humankind by opposing the optimism of the
Enlightenment with the factual and bloody side of the European
history:
If you go back to the birth of nations, if you come down to our own day,
if you examine peoples in all possible conditions from the state of barbarism to the most advanced civilization, you always find war. From
this primary cause, and from all the other connected causes, the effusion of human blood has never ceased in the world. Sometimes blood
flows less abundantly over some larger area, sometimes it flows more
abundantly in a more restricted are, but the flow remains nearly constant.35
However, Donoso’s contempt for man knew no limits. Had God
not become man, Schmitt quotes Donoso, “the reptile that my
foot tramples would have been less contemptible than a human
34
35
26
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 55. See also Joseph de Maistre, Du Pape. Paris:
Garnier Frères 1928, pp. 21–23.
Joseph de Maistre, Considerations on France. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1994, pp. 27–28.
being”.36 In the rationalist view of the Enlightenment, man was
conceived as ignorant and rough by nature, but educable. In Schmitt’s
view, this belief justified the possibility and necessity of an educational dictatorship. It prompted Rousseau to demand that a legislator must change the nature of man and Fichte to outline the state
as an “educational factory”.37 Marxist socialists, for their part, believed that changes in economic and social conditions would change
man as well. But Donoso does not believe in the metamorphosis of
man, either by education or by altering the relations of production.
In this sense, he is in line with the anarchists, but whereas the latter
claim that man is good by nature and that all evil derives from
theology and its implications – from authority, state, or government – Donoso objects that not even the dogma of the original sin
is radical enough. He writes about the absolute sinfulness and depravity of human nature. In his philosophy of history, the victory of
evil is obvious and natural. Only God’s miracle can prevent it – a
miracle that in political life finds its parallel in the notion of decision. For Donoso, as Schmitt demonstrates, a metaphysics which
does not take into consideration the necessity of moral decision
leads to mere confusion. Therefore, Hegelianism, in its commitment to a higher term of reconciliation, is in Donoso’s view nothing
but liberal lack of consistency. Such a theory of compromise can
exist only in the short interim period in which it is possible to
answer the question “Christ or Barabbas?” with a proposal to appoint a commission of investigation. To suspend the decision at the
crucial moment, by denying that there was anything to be decided,
appears to him as the sign of ultimate irresponsibility. As a remedy
for this irresponsibility and in opposition to the practice of everlast36
37
Juan Donoso Cortés, Ensayo sobre el catolicismo, el liberalismo y el socialismo.
In Obras Completas III. Madrid: Editorial Católica 1946, p. 532.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 56. “Whoever ventures on the enterprise of
setting up a people must be ready, shall we say, to change human nature.” JeanJacques Rousseau, The Social Contract. London: Penguin Books 1980, p. 84.
27
ing conversation, Donoso proposes dictatorship.38 According to
him, only a dictator can resist the radical evil, which culminated in
his view in the 1848 revolution. Like Hegel, the whole epoch had
trusted that all oppositions and antitheses would be merged in the
compromise of a higher third, but according to Schmitt, Donoso
Cortés was gripped by horror at the thought of Hegelianism.
Even though Schmitt did not count on the possibility of a
reconciliating higher third either, his relation to Hegel was not as
simple as Donoso’s. In fact, if we examine Schmitt’s political views,
we discover neither a French royalist, nor a fanatic Spaniard compared to whom even Friedrich Nietzsche’s fury would look like
childish defiance. Rather, Schmitt’s stated objections aside, one finds
there the shadow of G. W. F. Hegel. It is true that Schmitt could not
comprehend the ultimate rationality and dialectical development of
history in which even the interruptions serve as negations subjected
to this development. In Hegel’s philosophy, “an exception never
comes from outside into the immanence of development”,39 and
thereby it is a process without a “definitive, disjunctive judgment”:
“Hegel’s philosophy contains no ethic that would provide a foundation for the absolute distinction of good and evil.”40 In it, good is
what is real, evil what is unreal. Nevertheless, Schmitt relies more
than once on Hegel’s idea of quantity transforming into quality.
And he repeatedly quotes Hegel’s definition of a bourgeois as the
antithesis of a citizen, that is to say, as an individual who is unwilling
to leave the apolitical, risk-free private sphere: “He wants to be
spared bravery and exempted from the danger of a violent death.”41
38
39
40
41
28
Schmitt, Political Theology, pp. 61–63. See also Juan Donoso Cortés, “Discurso
sobre la dictatura.” In Obras Completas II. Madrid: Editorial Católica 1946,
pp. 187–204.
Carl Schmitt, The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy (1924). Cambridge: The
MIT Press 1994, p. 56.
Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 56.
Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 63.
Besides, Schmitt accredits Hegel with being the first to formulate
the definition of concrete enemy: “The enemy is a negated otherness.”42 Furthermore, Hegel’s dialectics does not, in Schmitt’s interpretation, merely affirm the higher third term since it also focuses
on the concrete battle (“mutual negation”) between the opposing
terms. In Schmitt’s view this reveals, together with the philosophical
truth that all spirit is present spirit, the political character of Hegel’s
philosophy.43 Finally, Schmitt’s own thinking seems to proceed
through a specific third term all the time. Even though he repeatedly
emphasizes the insuperability of decisive dualisms, for instance in
arguing that the sphere of the political presupposes the non-mediated antithesis of friend and enemy, we can detect a specific moment
of reconciliation. However, at issue is not a preserving reconciliation, Aufhebung, but as we will see, an instance expressing the ceaseless but ultimately insurmountable togetherness of a pair of terms:
the state of exception and normal situation, constituent power and
constituted power, war and peace. It is not a question of a higher
third, in which the opposites become merged, but of a concrete
borderline case – the sovereign, people, enemy – which exposes the
insurmountable togetherness of the two terms.
* * *
Despite Schmitt’s admiration for Donoso Cortés and despite his esteem
for the metaphysics of the 17th century, the metaphysical character of
Schmitt’s thought lies precisely in the conceptually articulated social
structure of the technological stage of late modernity. Admittedly, he
took on the project of revitalizing concepts such as sovereignty in the
sphere of the state and constitutional law. However, his concept of sovereignty does not correspond to the conceptually articulated social struc42
43
See for instance Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 63.
Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, pp. 62–63.
29
ture and the metaphysical image of the 17th century, in which the undivided and permanent power of a temporal ruler in a temporal kingdom was structurally identical with the power of God in the Kingdom
of Heaven. Instead it corresponds to the conceptually articulated social
structure of late modernity in which God has become an “objectively
obscure being”44 and everything is “increasingly governed by conceptions of immanence”.45 But before we can grasp the implications of this
for Schmitt’s political concepts, we need to take a closer look at Schmitt’s
understanding of the conceptual structure and the metaphysical image
of late modernity.
2.1 Philosophy of the Extreme
What then, in contrast to the earlier epochs, is characteristic of late
modernity? In Schmitt’s view, as already mentioned, an outstanding
characteristic of this epoch is the dissolution of political struggles and
social conflicts into a neutral sphere, above all into the sphere of the
technical rationalizations. To the extent that neutrality is the antithesis of
the political, the essential characteristic of late modernity is the negation
of the political: “Today nothing is more modern than the onslaught against
the political.”46 In late modernity, politics is substituted with technics –
with “organizational-technical tasks”47 – and the political community
with the idea of society as a “self-propelling machine” in which everything “functions automatically” and things “administer themselves”.48
44
45
46
47
48
30
Carl Schmitt, Die Diktatur. Von den Anfängen des modernen Souveränitätsgedankens bis zum proletarischen Klassenkampf (1921). Berlin: Duncker &
Humblot 1928, p. 148.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 49.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 65.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 65.
Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 57.
Schmitt sees manifestations of this tendency everywhere. He finds it in
modern jurisprudence and especially in the formalism and normativism
of legal positivism, which confuses legitimacy and thereby political
authority with legality, identifying law (Recht) with “objectively valid”
legal rules and norms (Gesetz).49 He discovers it in the juristic life of the
liberal bourgeois “constitutional state” (Rechtsstaat), which subjects the
power of the state to the rule of law and dismisses the immediate and
revolutionary constituent power of the people, reducing it to a mere
concept. Moreover, Schmitt finds the tendency to negate the political in
the modern liberal administrative state, which resembles more a technical bureaucratic machine – “a huge industrial plant”50 – than a representative instance of legitimate power. The tendency is manifested as well in
the modern parliamentary system, which replaces the necessary either /
or decisions (“either Christ or Barabbas”) with the romantic idea of
eternal conversation, and, instead of representing publicly the people as
a whole, represents mechanically the manifold interests of an electorate
consisting of private individuals. Furthermore, in Schmitt’s view, the
tendency to negate the political finds expression in modern economic
rationalism, according to which every government and political authority is but a necessary evil, replaceable by the freedom of production and
consumption in the course of progress made possible by following the
mechanical laws of free markets.51 Finally, Schmitt finds the negation of
49
50
51
German Recht and Gesetz are sometimes expressed in English by the words
“right” and “law”. However, inasmuch as Recht signifies the “system of law”
rather than subjective rights which are usually denoted by the English word
“right”, I have translated both Recht and Gesetz as law. Where necessary,
I have added the German word in parentheses.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 65.
This tendency is apparent even in the socialist theory which, for Schmitt, is
not the opposite of capitalist economic thinking but, on the contrary, its
complement: “The materiality of economic-thinking capitalists is very close
to that of radical communism. Neither persons nor things require a ‘government’ if the economic-technical mechanism is allowed its own immanent
regularity.” Carl Schmitt, Roman Catholicism and Political Form (1923). Westport: Greenwood Press 1996, pp. 35–36.
31
the political also taking place at the level of international order. There the
precondition for the political, namely a plurality of political peoples and
states, has been challenged by the idea of a “universal-society” populated
by a unanimous and apolitical humanity – an idea which, despite the
unanimity it evokes, seems to function in reality as a means of “a most
awful expansion and a murderous imperialism”.52
In other words, the tendency to rationalization and neutralization
is, according to Schmitt, one of the outstanding characteristics of late
modernity. He finds the original source of this tendency in the dominant
natural-scientific dogma which forces human existence into “rationalist
schemes”.53 With these schemes, penetrating all areas of human existence
including politics, law, economy, and so on, the whole world becomes
like an ethically neutral, automatically functioning, and absolutely rational self-enclosed system. However, the dominant natural-scientific dogma
is, according to Schmitt, a mere expression of a more profound transformation in the sphere of metaphysics. This is a transformation from transcendent towards immanent metaphysics. In late modernity, “everything
is increasingly governed by conceptions of immanence” – ultimately to
the extent that immanence becomes absolutized.54 At the deepest level of
Western thought, it is precisely the metaphysics of immanence that has
paved the way for the rationalization and neutralization of human existence. This follows, because in Schimitt’s view the concept of immanence
52
53
54
32
Carl Schmitt, “Ethic of State and Pluralistic State” (1930). In Chantal Mouffe
(ed.), The Challenge of Carl Schmitt. London: Verso 1999, p. 205.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 14.
For Schmitt, the leading figure in philosophy advocating absolute immanence is Baruch Spinoza who developed an idea of God as the immanent
cause of all things (Deus sive Natura). In him, Schmitt conceives the metaphysician who first paved the way for the rationalization and especially neutralization of human existence, and not without reason: “If men were born
free they would form no conception of good and bad as long as they were
free.” Baruch Spinoza, Ethics. London: Everyman 1989, p. 186. On the “horrible dictum” Deus sive Natura, see Schmitt, Glossarium, pp. 84–85, 275.
entails that everything is potentially under the control of human reason –
that everything can be grasped (greifen). Everything is present for manipulation, a word which probably has the same etymological origin
(manus) as immanence.
If this is the metaphysical image of the world in late modernity, how
do Schmitt’s political concepts accord with it? In my interpretation, they
accord with it in the form of negation. To the extent that Schmitt considered the modern worldview to be precarious – not only because its
aims are utopian, but also because one cannot confront real political
problems in its absolutely rationalized and neutralized framework – he
developed his central political concepts, including the concept of the
political, in order to oppose this worldview. In other words, Schmitt
developed his concepts as counter-concepts (Gegenbegriff ) to the worldview
based on the metaphysical image of absolute immanence. However, although these concepts are posed as antipodes to absolute immanence,
they do not oppose it from the perspective of the traditional notion of
transcendence, that is to say, from the perspective of transcendence beyond immanence. Schmitt fully realized that late modernity is marked
by a fundamental loss of such transcendence. It is characterized by the
absence of gods which means that we are living in an epoch in which all
transcendent foundations of meaning and order, from theistic Revelation to deistic Nature and from Enlightenment Reason to romantic
Tradition, have fallen apart. To be sure, it is possible to try to erect new
gods, even in this epoch of absolute immanence. But Schmitt’s politicalintellectual attitude did not allow that – the attitude the task of which is
to create concepts “out of the immanence of a concrete legal and social
order”.55 Therefore, Schmitt’s political concepts should not be understood as establishing new transcendent foundations of order beyond
immanence. But what are they, then? They denote transcendence within
immanence. All of Schmitt’s central concepts refer to this transcendence
within immanence – and it is this transcendence that he calls the concrete.
55
Schmitt, “Die Lage”, p. 427.
33
But the concrete is also immanent to the degree that it takes place within
immanence. As a matter of fact, the concrete is precisely something that
merely takes place. It is an event (Ereignis) – and, more specifically, it is
an event that perturbs the universe of absolutely rational self-enclosed
systems. It introduces a rupture – a void – into the closure of order
immanent to itself. For this reason, I cannot subscribe to the claims that
Schmitt’s thinking represents the “metaphysics of substance”.56 Hence,
in the 1960’s, when Schmitt defined his concept of the political in terms
of an openness of order towards transcendence,57 the transcendence in
question, as Carlo Galli has also pointed out, is not be understood as a
substantial foundation of order. It should be understood as the very
openness itself,58 as the very event that introduces a rupture into the
closure of order immanent to itself.
In Political Theology (1922), the sovereign decision stands for such
an event. In Verfassungslehre (1928), the event becomes manifest in a
people’s existential decision concerning the constitution. In The Concept of the Political (1932), the event can be found in the figure of the
enemy. And in The Nomos of the Earth (1950), although published after
56
57
58
34
See Renato Cristi, Carl Schmitt and Authoritarian Liberalism. Cardiff: University of Wales Press 1998, pp. 144–145. According to Cristi, the continuity of Schmitt’s thought before and after 1933 is due to his “substantivist way
of thinking” and “metaphysics of substance” in which the “metaphysical core”
of his “meta-legal” thought can be found. I admit that Schmitt might have
longed for substance and substantive grounds, but he realized that modernity
is marked by a fundamental loss of such grounds. I also admit that Schmitt’s
turn to “concrete order thinking” entails a turn to a more “substativist way of
thinking”, but even in this latter phase the metaphysical core of his “metalegal” thought does not lie there. Instead, it lies in the founding event of the
concrete without a foundation, without substance.
See Carl Schmitt, Der Begriff des Politischen (fourth edition). Berlin: Duncker
& Humblot 1963, pp. 121–123.
For Schmitt, “transcendence means contingency”. Carlo Galli, “Carl Schmitt’s
Anti-liberalism: Its Theoretical and Historical Sources and Its Philosophical
and Political Meaning.” Cardozo Law Review. Vol. 21: 1597, 2000, p. 1607.
Schmitt’s turn towards the thinking of “concrete order” and, in my estimation, towards a more immanent orientation, the event takes place in
land-appropriation. All these events are the events of the concrete, that
is to say, events that introduce rupture in the self-enclosed rationalistic
systems immanent to themselves. The sovereign decision signifies a rupture (“new and alien”59) in the self-enclosed legal system of norms. A
people’s existential decision signifies such a rupture as well, but now in
the context of democratic constitution inasmuch as people’s will “precedes the constitution and is above it”.60 In the same way, the figure of
the enemy brings about a rupture, but in this case the rupture appears
in the status quo of an international order which does not recognize
anything “other and strange”. The enemy is precisely such an other and
strange.61 Finally, also land-appropriation (“territorial mutation”) signifies a rupture, but the rupture occurs in the global order of economic
change, in the system of production and consumption, interrupting its
smooth and self-sufficient functioning.62
In this way, all these events indicate resistance to the absolutization
of immanence. They function as antidotes for the self-propelling machines, as ever-present stumbling blocks for the rationalist schemes.
However, Schmitt’s event – the event of the concrete – is not only a
figure of resistance. The decision does not merely resist the valid legal
order, nor does the existential decision of the people merely perturb the
constitution. Similarly, the enemy does not destroy the possibility of
peace, nor does land-appropriation lead to the collapse of what Schmitt
pejoratively calls the system of “mere production”. In fact, these events
59
60
61
62
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 31.
Carl Schmitt, Verfassungslehre (1928). Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1993,
p. 238.
Schmitt, The Concept of The Political, p. 27.
Carl Schmitt, “Appropriation /Distribution / Production: An Attempt to Determine from Nomos the Basic Questions of Every Social and Economic Order” (1953). Corollary 1 in the Appendix to The Nomos of the Earth. New
York: Telos Press 2003.
35
exist as the foundation of every real legal order, of every democratic
constitution, of sound peace and of authentic, that is, meaningful production. In other words, Schmitt’s political concepts do not only denote events of resistance but also constitutive events (grundlegende Ereignis)
of meaning and order.63 This is why Schmitt’s concepts are not only
counter-concepts, signifying the intrusion of pure contingency, but also
fundamental concepts, that is, primeval words (Urwort) and ground
concepts (Grundbegriff ).
Thus, even if the sovereign decision brings about a rupture in the
system of norms and, thereby, in the legal order, it nevertheless “grounds
the norm and the order”.64 In the same way, a people’s existential decision, the “existential total-decision”,65 while preceding the constitution,
is nevertheless the event which creates (herstellen) it.66 Even the enemy,
this “other and strange” which calls into question the status quo of international order, introducing thereby a moment of transcendence – a
moment of openness – into the immanence of world order, is a constitutive concept insofar as the existence of the enemy is the concrete precondition of the collective identity of friends. It is the enemy who brings
about the “existential affinity” of those “who just happen to live together”.67 In other words, the enemy is not only a counter-concept to
immanence but also a transcendent ground concept. But the enemy
does not function as a substantial foundation of meaning and order,
because the enemy has no substance but only a form, an empty form:
“An enemy is whoever calls me into question.”68 Moreover, the enemy
calls me into question only at the moment when it “comes into view, in
63
64
65
66
67
68
36
Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 83.
Carl Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten des rechtswissenschaftlichen Denkens (1934).
Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1993, p. 23.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 10.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, pp. 82–83, 206–207.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 210.
Schmitt, Glossarium, p. 217.
concrete clarity, as the enemy”.69 The enemy is therefore an event, an
event which founds meaning and order. Finally, also land-appropriation is such an event. To be sure, the thinking of “concrete order” emphasizes the historical continuity of institutions rather than the abrupt
events of decision. In Schmitt’s view, however, all continuity presupposes an origin which, for the thinking of “concrete order”, is the primeval act (Ur-Akt) of land-appropriation. Therefore, the order closing
upon itself in the gapless system of anonymous exchange finds a new
opening in – violent – appropriation, which interrupts this process.
Appropriation becomes an event of the concrete, that is to say, simultaneously a rupture in the old spatial order and the constitutive event of a
new one (Raumordnungsakt).
In all these events the issue concerns foundations, the basic and
tragic foundations of any human order whatsoever, tragic insofar as a
real order necessarily includes a serious (ernst) and violent dimension –
in contrast, for instance, to the play (Spiel) of mere conversation. Therefore, we should not confuse what Schmitt calls the concrete with the
empirical reality of classical empiricism in which reality is understood
to be a discrete given revealed in sensation. Schmitt’s event of the concrete is not something given in ordinary circumstances but something
which disrupts the ordinary. In his view, an event is concrete only if it is
an exception, an extreme case. A good example of such an exceptional
event is the sovereign decision. Although the sovereign, deciding on the
exception, “stands outside the normally valid legal system, he nevertheless belongs to it”.70 He belongs to it as an exception. The same holds
true for all of Schmitt’s central political concepts. They are all exceptions, extreme cases. This is the case, because Schmitt believes that only
the exreme case can “expose the core of the matter”.71 In fact, the extreme case is the core of the matter, the topos of the concrete. Not only a
69
70
71
Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 67.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 7.
Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 35.
37
rupture in the automatically functioning rationalist machine (Gegenbegriff ), nor a mere foundational event of order (Grundbegriff ), it is
simultaneously both, that is to say, a founding rupture. In Political Theology, Schmitt expresses this double meaning in one concept: Grenzbegriff,
the borderline concept.
It has been said that Schmitt is the representative for the political
irrationalism of the 20th century. Indeed, from the perspective of the
modern self-enclosed systems immanent to themselves, for instance the
uniform system of norms, the sovereign decision presumably denotes
pure irrationality: it “emanates from nothingness” (aus einem Nichts).72
Nevertheless, Schmitt’s philosophy of concrete life is not without a certain rationality. It contains a specific rationality, or at least a certain
logic – the logic of that very extreme: “Everything must be forced to the
extreme.”73 This is not only because the extreme case is more interesting than the rule, but also because it is the concrete condition of possibility of every rule and order and thereby the ultimate foundation of all
rationality, including abstract rationalism:
A philosophy of concrete life must not withdraw from the exception and the
extreme case, but must be interested in it to the highest degree. The exception
can be more important to it than the rule, not because of a romantic irony for
the paradox, but because the seriousness of an insight goes deeper than the
clear generalizations inferred from what ordinarily repeats itself. The exception is more interesting than the rule. The rule proves nothing; the exception
proves everything: It confirms not only the rule but also its existence, which
derives only from the exception.74
72
73
74
38
Schmitt, Political Theology, pp. 31–32.
Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 59. Schmitt refers here to Marx, but this methodological rule is valid in Schmitt’s case as well. Contrary to Marx, however, Schmitt
does not force the elements to the extreme for the reason that they could thus
be historically overturned by dialectical necessity, but because the extreme
exposes the core of the matter.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 15.
Besides, like all rationality, the rationality of the extreme is also based
on the exclusion of certain irrationality. In Schmitt’s view, all thought
which does not recognize that order is created out of disorder, and that
rationality is based on a non-rational foundation, is itself irrational.
Only thought which does not eschew the exception and the extreme
case is genuinely rational. For this reason, Schmitt holds that his philosophy of concrete life offers an even more subtle form of rationality
than that represented by abstract rationalism. In his view, this subtlety
derives from its rationality being “human in the deepest sense”.75 The
event of the concrete, for instance a “definitive, disjunctive decision”,76
is not an irrational miracle but a real fact of human life. Schmitt believes that genuine rationality, namely the rationality of meaning, consists of the recognition of this fact.
* * *
Although the modern representations of social structure are increasingly governed by conceptions of self-propelling machines and self-enclosed systems, Schmitt is not alone with his conviction according to
which the existence of these machines and systems must be subjected to
the primacy of exception. In fact, Schmitt’s thinking fits perfectly within
the radical political thought and reality of late modernity for which the
state of exception (contingency) has more and more become the rule (machine). Already Nietzsche had stated that “from the highest biological
standpoint, legal states can only be states of exception”.77 But the metaphysician to whom Schmitt in this context refers is not Nietzsche, whose
metaphorical biologism is incomprehensible to him but Sören
Kierkegaard, one of the first deconstructionists of mediating dialectical
75
76
77
Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 33.
Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 56.
Friedrich Nietzsche, On the Genealogy of Morals. In On the Genelogy of Morals
and Ecce Homo. London: Vintage Books 1989, II, § 11. Translation altered.
39
reason and thereby one of the first to crystallize the late modern philosophy of immediacy. On the whole, Kierkegaard’s diagnosis concerning
the nature of modern pathologies resembles Schmitt’s diagnosis insofar
as also Kierkegaard conceived the “present age” as the age which substitutes reflection, secret agents, and different degrees of excitement and
lethargy for decisions, visible authorities, and concrete differences.78
For Schmitt, however, the pivotal element in Kierkegaard’s work is his
insight into the role of exception:
The exception explains the general and itself. And if one wants to study the
general correctly, one only needs to look around for a true exception. It reveals everything more clearly than does the general. 79
In the epoch of “God’s deaths”, that is, in the epoch in which all transcendent and substantial foundations of meaning and order have fallen
apart, the exception is in a sense the only path available for anyone who,
like Kierkegaard, Nietzsche and Schmitt, wants to avoid the paradoxes
of self-propelling machines and abstract rules. In the epoch of absolute
immanence, every meaning and order purporting to be something other
than a mechanical and lifeless abstraction has to find for itself an irregular foundation, that is, an exception. Therefore, everything must be forced
to the extreme. In the context of late modern thought, however, this
solution is in no way irregular or exceptional. In fact, it accords with it
very well, although it only constitutes the other side of late modernity,
the “heroic” and the “dark” side of late modern thought, for which life
is hard and hazardous to the extent that ultimately it is death which is
supposed to crystallize life: “It is by dying, without possible evasion,
that I will perceive the rupture which constitutes my nature and in which
78
79
40
See Sören Kierkegaard, Two Ages. The Age of Revolution and The Present
Age. Princeton: Princeton University Press 1978, pp. 69–112.
Sören Kierkegaard, Repetition. In Fear and Trembling – Repetition. Princeton:
Princeton University Press 1983, p. 227.
I have transcended ‘what exists’,”80 wrote Georges Bataille, this eminent
philosopher of the extreme. “Behind every exit, marked with the symbols of happiness, lurk pain and death. Happy is he alone who steps
armed into these spaces”,81 declared in turn Schmitt’s friend Ernst Jünger,
an apologist for war and the warrior. “When it comes to the most
extreme, as for many of our young friends at the front, then what alone
remains essential comes into view almost of itself ”,82 stated finally
Martin Heidegger, the paradigmatic philosopher of death. For him the
“essential” was not the young friends’ need to survive. Rather, it was
their “being-free for death”.83 It is only when confronted with the “real
possibility of physical killing”, with “this most extreme possibility”, as
Schmitt describes it, that man approaches the real seriousness of life,
that is, the tragic and political essence of his existence, presumably the
most meaningful existence that he has: “The core of the matter lies in
warfare.”84
My intention is not to argue that Schmitt’s basically “classical” style
of thought could be identified with Jünger’s and Bataille’s romanticism
of violence, quite the contrary. Above all, unlike Jünger and Bataille,
Schmitt has no tendency to glorify violence or the will to aggression. All
aesthetics of horror horrified him. Moreover, his conception of rupture
diverges considerably from those of Jünger and Bataille. In Schmitt’s
case, the event of rupture has nothing to do with the “inner experience”
(innere Erlebnis or expérience intérieur) of an individual. Instead of tak80
81
82
83
84
Georges Bataille, Inner Experience. New York: State University of New York
Press 1988, p. 71.
Ernst Jünger, “Total Mobilization”. In Richard Wolin (ed.), The Heidegger
Controversy. Cambridge: The MIT Press 1993, p. 138.
Martin Heidegger, Basic Concepts. Bloomington: Indiana University Press
1988, p. 14. The text is based on Heidegger’s lectures conducted during the
winter semester of 1941.
Martin Heidegger, Being and Time. Oxford: Basil Blackwell 1962, p. 435.
Carl Schmitt, “Total war, Total Enemy and Total State” (1937). In Simona
Draghici (ed.), Carl Schmitt: Four Articles. Washington: Plutarch Press 1999,
p. 31.
41
ing place in a subject’s consciousness and imagination – even if the subject is defined in terms of its annihilation and consciousness in terms of
unconsciousness – Schmitt’s event has an objective existence. Although
the objectivity of event is something else than the objectivity of knowledge, there is no reason to confuse it with the moods of an individual.
The event may become an event for an individual’s imagination, in the
same vein as the First World War became a source for Jünger’s imagination and the endless forms of violence and perversion became a source
for Bataille’s imagination. In this case, however, a serious understanding
of the event has become impossible. Everything is overshadowed by the
subject’s private experience, his ephemeral moods. For such a person –
Schmitt calls him a romantic – the intercourse with the concrete event
becomes “actually the intercourse with himself ”.85
In conclusion, although Schmitt rejects the individualist and subjectivist interpretation of the event of rupture, he does not reject the
idea of rupture itself. On the contrary, it is precisely because of the
primacy of this idea that Schmitt’s “metaphysical character” is to be
found in the exception – and that his objects of analysis are the extreme
cases: the state of exception, revolution, war, and land-appropriation.
In his view, it is only in such exceptional situations that the tragic, and
thus meaningful, political foundation of human existence is revealed.
Moreover, it is this foundation modernity tries to efface and to replace
with the meaningless economic-technical administering of things. From
Schmitt’s perspective, however, this project is ultimately doomed to failure since in the late modern epoch of technology life itself seems to have
become an exception – and thereby the source of new meaning: “In the
exception the power of real life breaks through the shell of a mechanism
that has become torpid by repetition.”86
85
86
42
“Neither the cosmos, nor the state, nor the people, nor the historical development has any intrinsic interest for him. Everything can be made into an easily
managed figuration of the subject that is occupied with itself.” Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 75.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 13.
3. Sovereign and Law
In the moment of danger, the life of all depends on it
that everybody, immediately and unconditionally,
submits to a particular will.
Friedrich Engles, On Authority
For Schmitt, the torpid mechanism is the symbol for the Enlightenment rationalism and the economic-technical way of thinking. According to Max Weber’s famous formulation, the origin of the victorious
rationalism and modern economic-technical thinking lies in the ascetic
ideal of Protestantism. But today they no longer need an ideal footing
because they rest “on mechanical foundations”.87 Schmitt does not believe, however, in the victory of the mechanical. Like Heidegger, he
believes that man, a non-mechanical being by nature, is capable of mastering technology – or binging himself “into the right relation to technology”, as Heidegger put it.88 But in Schmitt’s view this is not possible
as long as people believe in the neutrality of technology, that is to say, as
long as they have not reached a political understanding of technology.89
What, then, does the political understanding of technology entail? In
Schmitt’s view, it entails a non-neutral – a spiritual-moral – decision
concerning technology. Although technology is only “an instrument and
weapon”, it does not follow that it does not need to be decided on,
because even neutrality presupposes a non-neutral decision: “No single
87
88
89
Max Weber, The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. London: Unvin
University Press 1970, pp. 181–182.
Martin Heidegger, “The Question Concerning Technology.” In David Farrell
Krell (ed.), Basic Writings. London: Routledge 1994, pp. 312–313.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 141.
43
decision can be derived from the immanence of technology, least of all
for neutrality.”90 According to Schmitt, technology is not neutral, precisely because it is subservient to anyone: “Every strong politics will
make use of it.”91
In Schmitt’s view, the Western intelligentsia has not yet reached a
political understanding of technology. Unlike the Soviet Russia, one of
Schmitt’s pivotal enemies, it has not undergone a Hegelian transformation from quantity to quality. Whereas the Russians have already sublated
the mechanical image of technology (Technik) in the “spirit of technicity
[Technizität] ”,92 and have thereby succeeded in politicizing technology,
the Western intelligentsia still believes that an absolute and ultimate
ground of neutrality has been discovered in it. Whereas the Russians
have the spiritual energy to command technology, the European elites
see in it a mere refuge, when faced with the inextricable problems of all
the other spheres:
With respect to theological, metaphysical, moral and even economic questions, which are debatable, purely technical problems have something refreshingly factual about them. They are easy to solve.93
For Schmitt, however, people who rely on easiness are not going to
survive in the battle of competing spirits and cultures. They will be
subjected by those who reject this easiness in the name of a new morality and a new asceticism, in the name of a hardening of spirit.
* * *
90
91
92
93
44
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 139.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 141.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 141.
Schmitt, “The Age of Neutralizations”, p. 138.
According to Schmitt, in the field of jurisprudence the tendency to take
refuge in neutrality and technical thinking manifests itself above all in
legal and constitutional positivism, which had been a general doctrine
and a method in the German science of law since 1848. Legal positivism arose as a critical reply to the tradition of natural law, which was
conceived as “a weed that has to be uprooted without mercy”, as the
German jurist Karl Bergbohm phrased it at the end of the century. For
the positivists, it was a question of “a great step forward from illusion
to reality”,94 because the philosophical speculation on law was replaced
by the scientific research on objective legal rules and norms.95 Schmitt
sees here not only a step forward but also a step back, because in moving into a sphere of propositions and postulates jurisprudence becomes
alienated from the concrete reality of men and institutions. In Schmitt’s
opinion, the transition to legal positivism paves the way for juridical
nihilism, because it dismisses concrete origins and foundations, and
thereby the concrete sources of the legitimacy of law. Law (Recht) is
simply identified with legal rules and norms whereupon the mere objective existence of a norm becomes the criterion of its own validity
and legality becomes the only form of legitimacy. According to the doc-
94
95
Schmitt, “The Plight”, p. 44.
Max Weber sums up the fundamental principles of this positivism in five
postulates: “Firstly, every concrete legal decision is the ‘application’ of an
abstract legal proposition to a concrete ‘fact situation’; secondly, it must be
possible in every concrete case to derive the decision from abstract legal propositions by means of legal logic; thirdly, the law must actually or virtually constitute a ‘gapless’ system of legal propositions or must at least be treated as if
it were such a gapless system; fourthly, whatever cannot be ‘construed’ rationally in legal terms is also legally irrelevant; and fifthly, every social action of
human beings must also be visualized as an ‘application’ or ‘execution’ of
legal propositions or as an infringement thereof, since the ‘gaplessness’ of the
legal system must result in a gapless legal ordering of all social action.” Max
Weber, Economy and Society. Berkeley: University of California Press 1978,
p. 657. Quoted in Balakrishnan, The Enemy, p. 45.
45
trine of positivism, argues Schmitt, “something is valid if it is valid and
because it is valid”.96
Although Schmitt conceived it as his task to outline an alternative
to the method of legal positivism, which had become the dominant
doctrine of law in the bourgeois “constitutional state” (Rechtsstaat), he
did not want to return to natural law either. Although he repeatedly
criticized legal positivism, he also considered the era of natural law to be
over. As a solution, he outlined a decisionist doctrine and method, which
had some similarities with respect to positivism, but which focused on
the concrete origins and foundations of law instead of systematization
and interpretation of legal rules and norms. He did not discover these
origins in human nature but in the concrete figure of the executor of
law, in the personal decision of the judge and the sovereign.97 For
Schmitt, a decision is necessarily positive inasmuch as it is always a
concrete act. However, like natural law, it is also transcendent as regards
the legal norm and the normally valid legal order. When a judge adjudicates he does not apply legal norms mechanically but rather, he concretizes
law: “Law is concretized only in a judgment, not in a norm.”98 And,
more importantly when a sovereign decides, the whole legal order is at
stake. Although the sovereign transcends (“stands outside”) the normally valid legal order, he nevertheless “belongs to it”. He belongs to it
as its constitutive instance – and thereby the sovereign decision becomes
the concrete primeval act (Ur-Akt) of the whole legal order as such.
Because Schmitt outlined his decisionist theory in relation to Hans
Kelsen’s (1881–1973) normative approach, it is appropriate to examine
96
97
98
46
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 9.
As Schmitt explains the difference: “Whereas the pure normativist thinks in
terms of impersonal rules, the decisionist implements the good law of the
correctly recognized political situation by means of a personal decision.”
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 3.
Carl Schmitt, Der Wert des Staates und die Bedeutung des Einzelnen. Munich:
C. H. Beck 1914, p. 79. Quoted and translated in McCormick, Carl Schmitt’s
Critique, p. 220.
briefly Kelsen’s ideas and Schmitt’s responses to them.99 Kelsen’s purpose was, in short, to create a pure science of law which would be purified of all extra-juristic elements. The primary reason for this project lay
in Kelsen’n conviction that jurisprudence should attain the status of an
objective science. But it could not be attained if jurisprudence was not
capable of defining a specific subject and a methodology of its own. In
the same vein as almost all other neo-Kantians, Kelsen begins this search
with Immanuel Kant’s distinction between the worlds of is (Sein) and
ought (Sollen). For Kant, the world of Sein is the world of causal relations and thereby the object of natural sciences. The world of Sollen is,
instead, the world of reason. Also reason is capable of causing effects,
but it is free from natural causality. This other causality manifests itself
in Kant’s view especially when man sets normative obligations for himself. To the extent that normative obligations were the issue, it seemed
natural for the neo-Kantians to include the science of law in this latter
world. For Kant, this would have been illegitimate inasmuch as he held
that the world of Sollen cannot become an object of scientific cognition – but this did not prevent the neo-Kantians from moving precisely
in that direction.
This was also the point of departure for Kelsen’s analysis in which
the distinction between the worlds of Sein and Sollen became absolute:
“The two worlds stand opposite each other, separated by an unbridgeable rift.”100 Contrary to Kant, however, Kelsen argues that the world
of Sollen can indeed become an object of scientific cognition, but only
insofar as this world is understood in terms of objective legal rules and
norms – and not, for instance, in terms of concrete persons or institutions. Legal rules and norms alone inhabit the world of Sollen autono-
99 Kelsen was a leading neo-Kantian constitutional lawyer in the Weimar Republic and, according to Schmitt, the most logical representative of legal positivism and especially of its normative branch.
100 Hans Kelsen, Hauptprobleme der Staatsrechtslehre entwickelt aus der Lehre vom
Rechtssatze. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr 1911, p. 8.
47
mously, whereas concrete persons and institutions are subjected to the
causal relations of the world of Sein: “The behavior of the individuals
as it actually is, is determined by laws of nature according to the principle of causality.”101 For this reason Kelsen argues that the human will
cannot be regarded either as the origin of a legal norm or the basis for
its validity. In order for the world of Sollen to remain pure, a legal norm
cannot originate in anything non-normative. This does not imply that
norms have no effect on the world of Sein. A norm can effectively regulate human behavior in space and time, but the norm itself does not
have a concrete spatiotemporal existence. It belongs to another universe, namely that of the normative, in which the relationships between
states of things are not defined in terms of causal explanation (if A,
then B is), but in terms of what Kelsen calls imputation (Zurechnung)
(if A, then B should be). However, the statement “should be” should
not be understood here as an ethical demand. In the same way as Kelsen
excludes the non-normative sciences – including sociology – from jurisprudence, he also excludes all such normative elements which belong to politics and ideology, to metaphysics and the philosophy of
law: “The specific subject of legal science is positive or real law in contradiction to an ideal law, the goal of politics.”102 In a word, he wants
to exclude all value judgments from the sphere of jurisprudence. For
this reason, the statement “should be” should be understood merely as
a neutral statement about “the existence and the contents” of a legal
norm.103 The legal rules and norms alone constitute the objective basis of scientific analysis of law in jurisprudence: “It is precisely by its
anti-ideological character that the pure theory of law proves itself a true
science of law.”104
101 Hans Kelsen, General Theory of Law and State. Cambridge: Harvard University Press 1949, xiv.
102 Kelsen, General Theory of Law, xiv.
103 Kelsen, General Theory of Law, p. 37.
104 Kelsen, General Theory of Law, xvi.
48
According to Kelsen, the task of a pure science of law consists of
analyzing and systemizing the comprehensive structure of legal rules
and norms. This is not to say that jurisprudence should cease to speak
about entities such as the state, for instance. But from the normative
perspective the state can no longer be defined as a non-normative
entity, as an actual fact. For Kelsen, the state is nothing but the legal
order itself understood as the unity of a system of legal norms and prescriptions: “The state as a social order must necessarily be identical with
the law.”105 On the whole, all non-normative concepts and conceptions, all considerations concerning, for instance, the concrete sources
of law, have to be set aside – including the existential concept of a people
and the personified concept of the sovereign. In this sense, Kelsen argues, “the concept of sovereignty must be radically repressed”.106 A concept of sovereignty can be retained, but again only on the condition
that it refers solely to the unity of a system of legal norms and prescriptions. For, according to Kelsen, personification leads merely to useless
anthropomorphism. As pantheism, which identified God with the world,
made possible the true knowledge of nature, the knowledge that the
state is a system of legal rules and norms makes possible the true science
of law.107 This is not to say that in Kelsen’s view the legal order has no
foundation whatsoever. There is a foundation, but this foundation, the
“reason of the validity of legal order”, is also a norm, the transcendental
“basic norm” (Ursprungsnorm or Grundnorm). According to Kelsen, the
whole – hierarchical – system of norms should be, if not derived from,
at least understood by means of this transcendental norm. Contrary to
all other norms, this norm is not imposed but presupposed. Nevertheless, it should not be considered as the natural foundation of positive
law. Although Kelsen calls his approach normative, it is normative only
to the extent that it is concerned with positive legal rules and norms. As
105 Kelsen, General Theory of Law, xvi.
106 Hans Kelsen, Problem der Souveränität und die Theorie des Völkerrecht.
Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr 1920, p. 330.
107 See for instance Kelsen, General Theory of Law, pp. 189–191.
49
we already saw, it has nothing to do with the moral and ethical value of
norms. The basic norm is neither a natural law nor any other kind of
ethical foundation but an epistemologically necessary transcendentallogical presupposition. It is merely a regulative principle of jurisprudence,
a hypothetical formulation, but as such, nevertheless, “the highest rule
of production” of legal norms.108
Schmitt does not agree with Kelsen’s reasoning. He sees in it, like
in the bourgeois constitutional state in general, merely a variant of the
modern tendency towards the nihilistic self-propelling machine, for
which every question concerning the concrete source and foundation of
a system refers back to the system itself. Schmitt admits that Kelsen’s
basic norm in a sense transcends the system insofar as it exists prior to
the legal order. But its existence is not existential but epistemological. It
is nothing factual but a mere construction – the construction of an
“independent juristic perception”.109 Even as a construction it is only a
hypothetical presupposition, which exists in the “juristic consciousness”.110 According to Schmitt, the validity of the system of norms presupposes a completely different kind of “rule of production”, another
kind of transcending moment than the pure “a priori emptiness of the
transcendental form”.111 It presupposes a concrete moment and the
existential form of a personal decision: “Properly speaking, only something that exists concretely can be sovereign.”112 At first sight, it seems
to be precisely the impersonality and anonymity of Kelsen’s system which
troubles Schmitt most:
The objectivity that Kelsen claimed for himself amounted to no more than
avoiding everything personalistic and tracing the legal order back to the impersonal validity of an impersonal norm.113
108
109
110
111
112
113
50
Kelsen, Problem der Souveränität, p. 98.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 20.
Kelsen, General Theory of Law, p. 116.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 35.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 7.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 29.
It is obvious that Schmitt neglects Kelsen’s neo-Kantian epistemological
starting point, thereby failing to construct an immanent critique of his
system. Yet the perspective he critizes Kelsen from is not epistemological but existential. From this perspective, the world of Sollen is necessarily subordinated to the world of Sein. In Schmitt’s view, jurisprudence
which neglects this fact cannot address the most important juridical
problems at all. Unlike Kelsen, however, Schmitt does not subject the
world of Sein to natural-scientific causal relations. In his view, “there is
a juristic reality and life that need not be reality in the sense of the
natural sciences”.114 In the same vein as the neo-Kantians, Schmitt claims
that this reality transcends the natural-scientific reality. But it does not
transcend the latter on the point of normative reason but rather that of
an existential will. Moreover, also the basic question turns out to be
different. Whereas in Kelsen’s normative reality of reason the natural
scientific question of “what” addressed to the world of Sein is replaced
with that of “how” addressed to the world of Sollen, in Schmitt’s existential reality of will they both are replaced by the question of “who”.115
Instead of asking “how” the system of norms operates, Schmitt asks:
Who “wills” the system? And although this existential “who” presumably belongs more to the world of Sein than to the world of mere postulates, it is not completely alien to the world of Sollen. In fact, Schmitt’s
“who” is situated precisely at the threshold between Sein and Sollen.116
This is not to say that Schmitt transgresses the philosophical view according to which it is impossible to derive norms from facts. There is no
higher third here to bridge the unbridgeable rift between Sein and Sollen,
but an existential borderline case – the case of “who” – which exposes the
insurmountable interrelation of the two terms. According to Kelsen such
a “who” might pave the way for anthropomorphism, but in Schmitt’s
view it is only from the perspective of an existential “who” that distinc114 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 34.
115 “The legal prescription only designates how decisions should be made, not
who should decide.” Schmitt, Political Theology, pp. 32–33.
116 See Schmitt, Political Theology, pp. 32–33.
51
tions such as that between Sein and Sollen are imaginable in the first
place. This being the case, it would be untenable to exclude it from
scientific consideration. Admittedly, from the perspective of naturalscientific objectivity, it introduces a non-objective element in the analysis, but this does not imply that the question would concern only subjectivity. It implies, instead, a rupture in the world of scientific objectivity,
a concrete contingency at the foundation of the consistent worlds of
natural scientific facts and objective system of norms – an “undetermined and unfathomable”117 element which nevertheless determines
and fathoms everything that man is capable of determining and fathoming, including natural scientific facts and legal norms.118
Although Schmitt continuously emphasized the limited potency
of man, the most important juridical question for him throughout his
career was quis judicabit: “What matters for the reality of legal life is
who decides.”119 For the reality of that life the most central issue cannot
be the norm itself, not even the basic norm, insofar as a norm is not an
agent. It neither speaks nor acts. As such, it is totally mute and passive:
A law (Gesetz) cannot use, apply or enact itself; it cannot itself interpret,
define or sanction: moreover, it cannot – without ceasing to be a norm –
designate or nominate those concrete persons who are supposed to interpret
or to use the law.120
According to Schmitt, only concrete persons can carry out these tasks.
Only a concrete “who” decides on the validity of a norm: “There is no
norm, high or low, which either interprets or governs, either protects
or preserves itself. There is no normative validity that makes itself
117 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 60.
118 On the historical context of and the relationship between Schmitt’s and Kelsen’s
theories see Peter C. Caldwell, Popular Sovereignty and the Crisis of German
Constitutional Law. Durham: Duke University Press 1997, pp. 40–62, 85–
119.
119 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 34.
120 Schmitt, Über die drei Arten, p. 14.
52
valid.”121 In the political life of the state, what is significant is not a
hierarchy of norms but that of persons and instances. Regarding the
entire legal order, this personal instance is the sovereign. No system of
norms can validate itself but, instead, it presupposes the sovereign, who
decides whether a system is in force. Schmitt, in other words, sets the
concrete person of the sovereign against the impersonal and objective
system of norms. However, he does not view sovereignty in the traditional manner, first defined by Jean Bodin and repeated almost identically throughout the history of juristic concepts: “Sovereignty is the
absolute and perpetual power of a republic.”122 According to Schmitt,
even the well-known formulation in which sovereignty is defined as
the highest power, legally independent and underived, does not have
much practical meaning since such an abstract definition can be applied to the most different political-sociological configurations: “It is
infinitely pliable, and therefore in practice, depending on the situation,
either extremely useful or completely useless.”123 Therefore, Schmitt
does not define sovereignty in terms of abstract principles but in terms
of a concrete situation, that is, in terms of a state of exception (Ausnahmezustand).124
For Schmitt, as the well-known formulation goes, the sovereign is
he who decides in a state of exception, that is to say, when the “everyday
frame of life” is radically disturbed. Given that it is not possible to de121 Carl Schmitt, “Legalität und Legitimität” (1932). In Verfassungsrechtliche
Aufsätze aus den Jahren 1924–1954. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1958,
p. 311.
122 Jean Bodin, On Sovereignty. Four Chapters from the Six Books of the Commonwealth. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1992, p. 1. Translation altered.
123 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 17.
124 Schmitt argues that also for Bodin sovereignty is not only the “absolute and
perpetual power”, insofar as in the tenth chapter of Sovereignty – when discussing the “true marks” of the sovereign – he defines sovereignty as the authority
of a prince to suspend the law “in the condition of urgent necessity”. Schmitt
claims that Bodin derives all other marks of sovereignty from this authority.
53
termine the exception beforehand – insofar as “it cannot be anticipated”125 and “it defies general codification”126 – the sovereign is, at the
same time, he who decides on a state of exception. Moreover, insofar as
the sovereign decides whether a state counts as a state of exception, he
decides on the “normal situation” as well. He decides “whether the normal situation actually exists”.127 In Schmitt’s view, an instance which
makes a decision on the normalcy must exist, because this state is not
a natural given. It must be produced. The sovereign is the one whose
decision produces this situation. Moreover, the situation must be understood as concrete and not as a mere “superficial presupposition” in
the neo-Kantian sense. This is the case because the validity of legal prescriptions presupposes a concrete normal situation. It presupposes an
everyday frame of life to which norms can factually be applied. A legal
theory which considers this situation to be extra-juristic fails to realize
that a legal order does not have any sense without such a situation:
“There exists no norm that is applicable to chaos.”128
In Schmitt’s view, the sovereign is in other words the one whose
decision “produces and guarantees the situation in its totality”.129 He
has the “monopoly over this last decision”130 – and thereupon the monopoly on order as such. Schmitt holds that every order rests thus on a
decision: “It is the decision that grounds both the norm and the order.”131 The decision (Entscheidung) is the “absolute beginning”, the
“first cause” and the “ultimate origin”, the arkhe of any political entity.132 However, this does not explain why Schmitt’s definition of sov-
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 6.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 13.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 13.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 15.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 13.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 13.
Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23. See also Schmitt, Political Theology,
p. 10.
132 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
125
126
127
128
129
130
131
54
ereignty culminates in the concept of the state of exception. What exactly is the status of the state of exception in Schmitt’s theory of the
public law and the state? In the first place, it should not be confused
with chaos and anarchy. In Schmitt’s view, the state of exception remains within the framework of order, not only in the political sense
(“the state remains, whereas law recedes”133) but also in the juristic sense.
This follows from the fact that Schmitt’s concept of legal order includes
two basic form-elements, the legal norm and the decision. The state of
exception suspends the normative element of legal order and reveals the
element of decision in its “absolute purity”:
The two elements of the concept of legal order are then dissolved into independent notions and thereby testify to their conceptual independence. Unlike the normal situation, when the autonomous moment of the decision
recedes to a minimum, the norm is destroyed in the exception. The exception remains, nevertheless, accessible to jurisprudence because both elements,
the norm as well as the decision, remain within the framework of the juristic.134
However, as a juristic form-element the decision is not equal to the
normative element. It is the constitutive form of law as such. This is the
cornerstone of Schmitt’s decisionism. The state of exception reveals the
original non-normative (“free from any normative ties”135) character of
law. It is not law as such (Recht) which recedes in the state of exception
but the normative element of law (Gesetz). The state of exception reveals the existential character of law. It reveals that, in the final analysis,
the decision is the law: “Recht is Gesetz and Gesetz is a command which
decides on Recht in a conflict.”136 It is precisely for this reason that
Schmitt is able to state that “every order is a legal order”.137 In the
133
134
135
136
137
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 12.
Schmitt, Political Theology, pp. 12–13.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 12.
Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 25.
55
normative vacuum of the state of exception the legal order exposes its
original existential and, thus, political character.138
* * *
In Schmitt’s view, no order “establishes itself ” and no machine “runs by
itself ”, since every order and every machine is built on the ultimate
origin of decision. But the decision itself seems to have no basis. The
decision cannot be “deduced from a preceding norm or from a preexisting order”,139 which is to say that it, as Schmitt argues, “emanates from
nothingness”.140 Therefore, it is conceivable that in his sociological analysis of political and juridical concepts Schmitt identifies the concept of
decision with a miracle, with the divine interruption of theology. However, the fact that the decision is identical with the theological notion of
miracle does not necessarily make Schmitt’s thinking theological as such.
Admittedly, he identifies as his opponents those atheistic and agnostic
political thinkers who spoke, like the Russian anarchist Mikhail Bakunin,
on behalf of immanence-pantheism or who tried to abandon, like Kelsen,
all metaphysics in the name of scientific positivism. Without doubt, he
favored Bakunin’s idea of immanence over that of Kelsen, but what
matters here is the fact that Schmitt wanted to confront his intellectual
opponents – whether enthusiastic or indifferent – on their own ground,
on the ground of immanence. A decision is indeed immanent to the
138 Giorgio Agamben is right in stating that “in the decision on the state of
exception, the norm is suspended, but that what is in question in this suspension is the creation of a situation which renders possible the application of the
norm”. Giorgio Agamben, État d’exeption. Paris: Seuil 2003, p. 63–64. To
my mind, however, it is not only a question of rendering possible the application of the norm, but also – and more profoundly – of disclosing the original
existential character of law.
139 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
140 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 32.
56
human order of things, but it is transcendent – a miracle – with respect
to the rationalist schemes the purpose of which is a general and gapless
representation of these things. The decision cannot be included in such
schemes, because the decision is precisely a gap: “The constitutive, specific element of a decision is”, from the perspective of the norm, “new
and alien”.141 A way of thinking which concentrates on generalizations
conceives of everything new as a miracle. Schmitt’s thinking, on the
contrary, takes exactly this “miracle”, the new and the alien, as its point
of departure thereby conceiving of the general only in the light of the
former, in the light of the concrete.
In Political Theology Schmitt locates the origin of the rationalist
schemes in the ideas of the 18th century. According to him, it is exactly
the era of Enlightenment that produces the rationalistic political idea
which prevents the immediate intervention (“outside interference”) of
the sovereign in the valid legal order. This idea, as Schmitt writes in his
sociological study of the concept, first emerges with deism, in other
words, with the kind of theology and metaphysics which “banished the
miracle from the world” and rejected “the transgression of the laws of
nature through an exception brought about by direct intervention, as is
found in the concept of miracle”.142 However, deism is nothing but a
preliminary stage in this development. In the deistic view of the world
there still exists a sovereign although not as an instance of immediate
intervention but as an original engineer of the great machine, identical
with the figure of the omnipotent legislator in the 18th century political thought. But in the course of the expansion of natural-scientific
thinking into all spheres of human life, also the “original engineer” has
been pushed aside. The general validity of a legal prescription has become identified with the lawfulness of nature, which applies without
exception: “The machine now runs by itself.”143
141 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 31.
142 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 36.
143 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 48.
57
Miracle of the Real
Despite the fact that Hannah Arendt can be considered in some
respects as an anti-Schmittian thinker, her political thought has
significant similarities with that of Schmitt. In their respective critiques of modern mass-society this resemblance becomes obvious.
They both lament the dissolution of the sense of place and thereby,
of the world and worldliness, which ails modernity. They also
grumble over the loss of the public sphere and consequently, of
politics. For both of them, modernity represents an unhappy epoch where anonymous production and consumption have replaced
heroic and excellent action. Likewise, both of them consider the
power to produce stories – representations and myths, as Schmitt
would say – as a precondition for the meaningfulness of life. They
both emphasize the visibility of power and authority. They both
speak about the sacredness of the nomos. They both view cosmopolitanism as a contradiction in terms – and so on. My aim here
is not, however, to demonstrate the common content in these
critiques of modernity, which is, after all, shared by many of the
20th century critical minds. My aim is, instead, to show that the
structure and logic of Arendt’s thought follow the coordinates of
Schmitt’s decisionism. It is true that certain differences exist. Arendt
emphasizes, for instance, the essential plurality of political action
whereas the Schmittian decision seems to presuppose a single agent.
Nevertheless, from the point of view of the sociology of concepts,
Arendt’s notion of action occupies the same structural place and
has the same function regarding her system of thought in general
as the notion of decision in Schmitt’s thought.
Like the decision for Schmitt, action for Arendt is a counterconcept opposing the machine-like modern society in which everything functions automatically and things administer themselves.
In fact, for Arendt the society as such is a modern phenomenon
and therefore the term “modern society” is a tautology. Society is,
by definition, an entity in which everything functions automati58
cally and things administer themselves. According to Arendt, the
reason for this is that in a society, the everyday life with its automatic “life process” has been channeled in one way or another “into
the public realm”.144 This channeling blurs the distinction between
private and public, between households and politics, bringing about
the decline of both in the end. In Arendt’s view, however, the possibility of politics does not completely disappear even in this selfpropelling society. But the resulting politics is meaningless, because
it is politics without a name, without a “who” attached to it.145 It
only amounts to an anonymous administration characterized by
the “no-man rule”, the “rule of nobody”146 – corresponding to
Schmitt’s “administrative state” in which neither men nor norms
rule, but “things administer themselves”.147 In Arendt’s view, however, a rule by nobody is not necessarily the same as a no-rule: “It
may indeed, under certain circumstances, even turn out to be of its
cruelest and most tyrannical versions.”148 The rule of nobody is
possibly the most tyrannical rule, because it excludes the possibility of genuine action. This possibility is excluded, in turn, because
the anonymous administration of society imposes innumerable and
various rules aimed at normalizing its members: “Society equalizes
under all circumstances.”149 In society, man as a public and therefore as a political animal, capable of action, is reduced to a “conditioned and behaving animal”.150
144 Hannah Arendt, The Human Condition. Chicago: The University of Chicago
Press 1989, p. 45.
145 Arendt, The Human Condition, pp. 180–181.
146 Arendt, The Human Condition, pp. 40, 45.
147 On the administrative state see for instance Schmitt, “Legalität und Legitimität”, pp. 266–268.
148 Arendt, The Human Condition, p. 40.
149 Arendt, The Human Condition, p. 41.
150 Arendt, The Human Condition, p. 45.
59
Action – action with a name – is, for Arendt, that which disrupts the “smooth functioning”151 of this anonymous and tyrannically normalizing social automaton. It is, like Schmitt’s decision,
an outside interference through which something “new and alien”
enters in the automaton insofar as action signifies above all beginning, “to begin new”.152 It interrupts the system of the immanent
“life processes”, and thus it does not come as a surprise that, in the
final analysis, Arendt considers action as a miracle:
Every act, seen from the perspective not of the agent but of the process
in whose framework it occurs and whose automatism it interrupts, is a
‘miracle’ – that is, something which could not be expected. If it is true
that action and beginning are essentially the same, it follows that a capacity for performing miracles must likewise be within the range of
human faculties.153
However, despite the fact that action – or the decision in Schmitt’s
case – interrupts the automatism of the life processes of society,
action is not only a counter-concept to these processes. Action
is also, like Schmitt’s decision, a constitutive concept, a ground
concept. Action is the topos of the real, that which constitutes
the real:
It is in the very nature of every new beginning that it breaks into the
world as an ‘infinite improbability’, and yet it is precisely this infinitely
improbable which actually constitutes the very texture of everything we
call real. Our whole existence rests, after all, on a chain of miracles. 154
151 Arendt, The Human Condition, p. 44.
152 Arendt, The Human Condition, p. 177. See also Hannah Arendt, “What is
Freedom.” In Between Past and Future. London: Penguin Books 1993,
p. 166.
153 Arendt, “What is Freedom”, p. 169.
154 Arendt, “What is Freedom”, p. 169.
60
Hence, society itself with its automatic life processes is revealed as
an abstraction whereas action, which was supposed to be an exception, appears to be – from the most human point of view, from the
point of view of the agent – the rule: “The fact that man is capable
of action means that the unexpected can be expected from him”,
that it is highly probable that he perform what is “infinitely improbable”.155 This does not mean that the rule, the probable, has
become an exception but that the exception, the infinitely improbable, has become a rule – the rule of existence. Our whole existence
is constituted by a “shock of surprise”.156 Existence without this
shock, without the exceptional, is no existence at all. What could
be more Schmittian?
These similarities notwithstanding, and although Arendt knew
Schmitt’s work – in The Origins of Totalitarianism she quotes him
several times, but mainly in order to grasp the essence of National
Socialism157 – it is obvious that her analysis is more indebted to
her teacher Martin Heidegger than to Schmitt. It was precisely
Heidegger who, in Being and Time, had charged at the domination
and the real dictatorship of an anonymous das Man. Das Man dominates although – or precisely because – he is not a definite someone
but an indefinite anybody and finally, a nobody. First and foremost, it dominates in the sphere of everydayness, because it maintains itself in an averageness: “In this averageness with which it
prescribes what can and may be ventured, it keeps watch over everything exceptional that thrusts itself to the fore.”158 In other words,
155 Arendt, The Human Condition, p. 178.
156 Arendt, “What is Freedom”, p. 170.
157 See Hannah Arendt, The Origins of Totalitarianism. London: A Harvest Book
1968, pp. 251, 266. In regard to Schmitt’s work as a whole, Arendt’s attitude
seems to be quite positive. She speaks about Schmitt’s “very ingenious theories” on the end of democracy and legal government that still make “arresting
reading”. Arendt, The Origins, p. 339, note 65.
158 Heidegger, Being and Time, p. 165.
61
the real dictatorship of the anonymous das Man normalizes. Like
Arendt’s society, it “levels down”. It was also Heidegger who, in
contrast to the society of das Man constituted by the noisy and
mediocre “motley mass”,159 outlined time and again alternative
ways of being, great and grandiose ways of being of exceptional
men capable of action and decision, that is, “capable of ruling”.160
Admittedly, these men, “authentic Selves”, “historical men”, “creators” and so on, bear more resemblance to Schmitt’s struggling
men than Arendt’s discussing men insofar as, for Heidegger, a
struggle – sustained, for instance, by statesmen – is the situation in
which the “world comes to be”.161 But this world, like Arendt’s
real, comes to be solely in exceptions, in unexpected and unrepeatable events – in the rare and unique events of decision: “The event
[Ereignis] of a decision”, Heidegger writes, “is exceptional”.162 This
event is not exceptional only because of its rarity but also because
the event is not calculable beforehand: “How the decision is made,
and if it is made, no one can establish immediately from any kind
of mark or certitude.”163 Yet two things can be established with
certainty. One the one hand, this event has nothing to do with
“multiplicity of the ordinary”, because everything decisive is despite the ordinary – “for the ordinary and usual recognizes and wants
only its own kind”.164 On the other hand, the event of the decision
is that which constitutes the true reality of man to the extent that
those who remain within the framework of the ordinary, and who
therefore cannot decide, live in an illusion. Instead, the one who
liberates himself from this framework determined by the “compul159 Martin Heidegger, Introduction to Metaphysics. New Haven: Yale University
Press 2000, p. 66. Originally presented as a lecture course in 1935.
160 Heidegger, Basic Concepts, p. 5.
161 Heidegger, Introduction to Metaphysics, p. 65.
162 Heidegger, Basic Concepts, p. 17.
163 Heidegger, Basic Concepts, p. 12.
164 Heidegger, Basic Concepts, p. 35.
62
sion of utility” and the “unrest of consumption” reaches the true
reality, because he thereby gains the power to decide and deciding
signifies, for Heidegger, deciding about the essential – about the
meaning of being and the essence of truth.
To be sure, in contrast to Heidegger to whom that “what alone
remains essential”165 – in the last analysis the decision itself – is
revealed in Being-toward-death, that is, “at the front”, Arendt introduces the natality of man at the center of her analysis: “Natality, and
not mortality, is the political activity par excellence.”166 Moreover,
Arendt repeatedly emphasizes human togetherness, whilst Heidegger
– and even Schmitt – was obsessed with the loneliness of man. But
despite these and other differences,167 the structure and the logic of
their thought remains the same. Only the exceptional can be conceived as essential, as real. For all of them, the event is a real event
if it is a “shock of surprise” – and existence without this shock,
without the exceptional, is no existence at all. It is a mere abstraction, an illusion of the average man and a source of meaningless
tyranny.
* * *
165 Heidegger, Basic Concepts, p. 12.
166 Arendt, The Human Condition, p. 9.
167 As far as I can see, one essential difference between Arendt and Schmitt concerns the distinction between private and public. They both recognize that the
private and the public – life processes and political action, society and the
state – enter into a zone of indistinction in modernity, but only Arendt replies
to this confusion with an attempt to revitalize these distinctions: “The privately
owned share of a common world”, that is, the autonomous private sphere, “is
the most elementary political condition for man’s worldliness.” Arendt, The
Human Condition, p. 253. Schmitt’s response, instead, is to adjust his concepts
to reflect our epoch, that is to say, to create political concepts “out of immanence of a concrete legal and social order”. It is due to this immanent perspective that Schmitt came to the conclusion that today the political has become
the total and any decision about whether something is unpolitical is always a
political and thus a non-private decision. See Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 2.
63
It is not primarily tyranny which is at stake in the philosophy of the
extreme but rather, meaninglessness. The no-man’s rule is a problem for
Arendt, not so much because of the evilness of its action but because
action without a name, “a ‘who’ attached to it, is meaningless”.168 It is
precisely meaning which most often seems to constitute the measure of
the rational in the philosophy of the extreme:
It is a hopeless enterprise to search for meaning in politics or significance in
history when everything that is not everyday behaviour or automatic trends
has been ruled out as immaterial.169
Likewise, Schmitt does not criticize “rationalist schemes” because they
are too rational, but because their rationality is meaningless and thereby
ultimately irrational: “A marvellously rational mechanism” of a totally
rationalized production “serves one or another demand, always with
the same earnestness and precision, be it for a silk blouse or poison gas
or anything whatsoever.”170 If a rational mechanism is not capable of
distinguishing a silk blouse from poison gas, should it be considered
rational? According to Schmitt it should not, and therefore the instrumental rationality of the rational mechanism has to be subjected to a
“rationality of the purpose”.171 No mechanism can decide on this purpose – it can be decided only by a concrete person.
Schmitt does not apply this argument only to economic rationalism, but also to political thinking and jurisprudence. He claims that
ever since Aristotle, who maintained that the “law is reason [noûs] without desire”,172 impersonal law has stood for the faculty of reason, whereas
a concrete person has been identified with irrational desires and passions. According to this tradition – Schmitt calls it liberal – the law is
168
169
170
171
172
64
Arendt, The Human Condition, pp. 180–181.
Arendt, The Human Condition, pp. 42–43.
Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, pp. 14–15.
Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 15.
Aristotle, Politics. The Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge: Harvard University Press 1990, 1287a 30–35. Translation modified.
not the will of one or several men, but a universal being of reason: “Not
a voluntas, but a ratio.”173 However, in Schmitt’s view, personal authority does not bring an irrational element into an otherwise rational order
– even though tradition, which sets the rational norm and irrational
person in opposition to each other, does not apprehend this. Every human law presupposes a personal decision. It is only from the point of
view of a bee that a person, a proper name, would represent something
incomprehensible and irrational. Schmitt admits that the rationality of
law before the 19th century has completely another meaning than the
rationality of modern positivism. In the former case, the law was valid
and thereby rational because it was just and reasonable – because it was
natural. And it was natural because people had the energy to declare
it as such. In positivism, on the contrary, the law is valid because it
is positive. In Schmitt’s view, however, the law is valid and thereby rational because someone wills it. Therefore, the liberal concept of law –
that of the Enlightenment as well as the positivist – has to be substituted with a political one: “The law in the sense of the political notion
of law is a concrete will and a command and an act of sovereignty.”174
In this sense, Schmitt is a heir to Hobbes to whom the law was
identical with the sovereign’s command. Indeed, one of his most favorite quotations was Hobbes’ auctoritas, non veritas, facit legem – authority, not truth, makes the law.175 To be sure, Hobbes is often considered
as the real originator of the rationalistic and mechanistic concept of
politics. Even Schmitt himself admits that Hobbes was the first political
philosopher for whom there existed a necessary and determinate interconnection between the political reality and the natural-scientific reality. In Schmitt’s view, however, the nature of this connection remained
unclear to Hobbes, which is why his thought, despite its natural-scientific approach, remained thoroughly personalistic. He rejected “all attempts to substitute an abstractly valid order for a concrete sovereignty
173 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 139.
174 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 146.
175 See for instance Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 33.
65
of the state”,176 always postulating an “ultimate concrete deciding instance”.177 According to Schmitt, it was not until the 18th century that
a rationalistic political idea was developed which rejected the sovereign’s
direct intervention in a valid legal order. This did not lead to the total
disappearance of sovereignty, because now the people (Volk) became the
sovereign. But the unity of a people is not decisionist but organic in
character, argues Schmitt in Political Theology (1922).178 In other words,
Schmitt does not identify a people with a concrete will but rather with
a universal – organic – reason. A people is not voluntas but ratio. Admittedly, in Verfassungslehre (1928) Schmitt outlines also a decisionist theory
of the people. In the same vein as the sovereign, who “stands outside the
normally valid legal system”, the people now “precedes the constitution
and is above it”.179 In the same vein as the sovereign who produces and
guarantees a situation in its totality, every democratic constitution rests
on an existential total-decision (Totalentscheidung) of the people:
The will of the German people – an existential element – founds the political
unity and the public law beyond all the logical contradictions, incoherence
and obscurities of particular constitutional laws.180
However, in Political Theology Schmitt does not yet regard the people,
the existential will of the people, as the transcendent origin of constitution but argues that the people is identical with it. From his perspective,
this identity corresponds again to the modern tendency for everything
to be governed by conceptions of self-propelling machines and selfenclosed systems, by conceptions of absolute immanence.
176
177
178
179
180
66
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 33.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 47.
See Schmitt, Political Theology, pp. 48–49.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 238.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 10.
Panopticon and the Founding Rupture
Despite the fact that the point of departure of Michel Foucault’s
genealogical analysis of disciplinary power is the radical exclusion
of sovereignty from political theory, his analysis nevertheless resembles that of Schmitt. For both of them, modern politics is a
politics which replaces the visible and personal power of the sovereign with the invisible and impersonal power of the mechanical
administration of persons as things. They both share the view that
in the conceptually articulated structure of modernity – in the
modern episteme as Foucault would put it – transcendence is replaced with immanence. Moreover, the structure of Foucault’s genealogical thought, its “metaphysical core”, resembles that of
Schmitt. Also Foucault the genealogist is a philosopher of the extreme, whose metaphysics has the idea of a “founding rupture” at
its core.181
The reason why Foucault demands that sovereignty should be
excluded from political theory can be derived from his view that
power in modern societies is no longer exercised in the form of
sovereignty but in the form of discipline. Disciplinary power is
neither a matter of bringing death into play in the field of sovereignty, as in the case of the traditional theory of sovereignty, nor is
it a matter of deciding on the state of exception as Schmitt’s theory
suggests. It is a matter of distributing the living within a domain of
value and utility. Its task is to take charge of life that is supposed to
need a continuous regulatory and corrective mechanism. Contrary
to sovereign power, the logic of disciplinary power is not prohibi181 Reciprocally, in Galli’s view, Schmitt’s interpretation of politics can be considered as genealogical: “It is neither rationalistic nor irrationalistic, nor
essentialistic, nor immediately normative, but genealogical. It does not discover the eternal essence of politics, but rather the nonrational origin of
modern political reason and of the modern necessity of establishing rational
order.” Galli, “Carl Schmitt’s Anti-liberalism”, p. 1611.
67
tive but affirmative, not that of deduction but production: “It exerts a positive influence on life, endeavours to administer, optimize, and multiply it.”182 Disciplinary power replaces the sovereign’s
right to “take life and let live” with that of a power to foster life – or
disallow it to the point of death. Instead of being exercised by means
of law and violence, disciplinary power is exercised through the
normalising biological, psychological and social technologies –
through the “methods of power capable of optimizing forces, aptitudes, and life in general”.183 Moreover, contrary to sovereign power,
disciplinary power is not personal but impersonal, not spectacular
but self-concealing: “It is exercised by surveillance rather than ceremony.”184 Instead of focusing on the spectacular figure of the sovereign, disciplinary power renders its subjects visible. The objective of this visibility is not to celebrate the subject, but to make him
docile. Disciplinary power aims at transforming its subjects into
useful components of a smoothly functioning machine. As is well
known, for Foucault the paradigm for disciplinary power is precisely a machine, namely Jeremy Bentham’s prison-machine, Panopticon.185 Foucault describes the structure of Bentham’s machine
as follows:
At the periphery, an annular building; at the center, a tower; this tower
is pierced with wide windows that open onto the inner side of the ring;
the peripheral building is divided into cells, each of which extends the
whole width of the building; they have two windows, one on the inside,
182 Michel Foucault, The History of Sexuality. Volume 1: An Introduction. New
York: Vintage Books 1990, p. 137.
183 Foucault, The History of Sexuality, p. 141.
184 Michel Foucault, Discipline and Punish. London: Penguin Books 1979,
p. 193.
185 Also for Schmitt, Bentham was a “fanatic of liberal rationality”, not because
of his invention, but because of his fanatic belief in the freedom of the press.
See Schmitt, The Crisis, pp. 38–39.
68
corresponding to the windows of the tower; the other, on the outside,
allows the light to cross the cell from one end to the other. All that is
needed, then, is to place a supervisor in a central tower and to shut up
in each cell a madman, a patient, a condemned man, a worker or a
schoolboy.186
No great imagination is required in order for one to recognize the
similarity between Foucault’s Panopticon and Schmitt’s description of Kelsen’s theory of law. Firstly, just as Kelsen’s legal order,
defined as an “uninterrupted system of orders”,187 Panopticon is
also a gapless (“enclosed”) system.188 Secondly, just as in Kelsen’s
legal order in which the sovereign must be radically repressed,
Panopticon dispenses with “the need for the prince”.189 Like Kelsen’s
order, which is based on “the rejection of all ‘arbitrariness’”,190 it
aims at repressing those “sudden, violent, discontinuous forms that
are bound up with the exercise of sovereignty”.191 Thirdly, just as
in Kelsen’s order, in which there are no real or fictitious persons
but only the “impersonal validity of an impersonal norm”,192
Panopticon functions anonymously. It neutralizes, automatizes and
depersonalizes power: “Power has its principle not so much in a
person as in an arrangement whose internal mechanisms produce
the relation in which individuals are caught up.”193 Undoubtedly,
there must be someone to operate the machine but it does not
matter who: “Any individual, taken almost at random, can operate
the machine.”194 The reason for this is not that the machine would
186
187
188
189
190
191
192
193
194
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 200.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 19.
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 207.
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 208.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 41.
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 208.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 29.
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 202.
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 202.
69
be arbitrary in itself but on the contrary, that the reliability and
predictability of power require that its user be irrelevant. Fourthly,
just as Kelsen’s legal order, Panopticon aims at transparency, which
is generally seen as an essential prerequisite for liberal democracy.
It is a machine which controls not only those who lack power but
also those who have it: “This Panopticon enables everyone to come
and observe any of the observers.”195 And lastly, to the extent that
in Foucault’s analysis Panopticon turns out to be an “ideal form”196
and a “generalizable model of functioning”197 rather than a particular institution, it comes to resemble Kelsen’s presupposed, transcendental-logical “basic norm”. Like the basic norm, Panopticon
is merely a regulative principle, in the final analysis a fiction, which
nevertheless has factual effects: “A real subjection is born mechanically from a fictitious relation.”198 Gapless unity, anonymity, neutrality, predictability, transparency, liberal democracy and effective
fiction – at every point these two descriptions of the modern social
order converge.
However, the solutions that Schmitt and Foucault offer to the
problem of the anonymous power of modern society are almost
diametrically opposed. Foucault takes for granted the fate of the
modern society as an anonymous society, in which the death of the
decision-maker concurs with the death of the author.199 One cannot analyze power in personal terms since what appears as personal
is in fact no more than an effect of the impersonal technologies of
power. For the same reason one should abandon the sovereign, not
just as a historical figure but also as a figure in political theory
195
196
197
198
199
70
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 207.
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 205.
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 205.
Foucault, Discipline and Punish, p. 202.
On the simultaneous death of God, man and author see Michel Foucault,
“What is an Author.” In Paul Rabinow (ed.), The Foucault Reader. London:
Penguin Books 1984, pp. 111–120.
where it functions merely as an ideological disguise of the real disciplinary power: “What we need is a political philosophy that is
not erected around the problem of sovereignty, not therefore around
the problem of law and prohibition.”200 Schmitt, however, continued to “erect around” the problem of sovereignty, not because he
could thus preserve the theme of law and prohibition – for Schmitt
sovereignty had no necessary connection to the problem of prohibition – but because of his manner of posing questions. In the face
of modern power, Foucault’s response was, in fact, quite Kelsenian:
to identify its forms and strategies, to reveal how power operates.201
The question concerning the “who” – who operates the Panopticon – did not deserve more attention than the above-mentioned
reply: anyone. For Foucault, it was enough to identify the technological forms of power since, according to him, modern power functions very well without an operator. But from Schmitt’s point of
view the “anyone” is paramount: “What matters for the reality of
legal life is who decides.”202 The anonymity of power does not
imply the displacement of the question of “who” and its substitution with the question of “how”, but it does presuppose careful
200 Michel Foucault, “Truth and Power.” In Colin Gordon (ed.), Power / Knowledge. Selected Interviews and Other Writings by Michel Foucault. New York:
Pantheon Books 1980, p. 121.
201 For Foucault, the question of “how” is not only opposed to the question of
“who” but also to “what”: “what” is power? See for example Michel Foucault,
“The Subject and Power.” Afterword in Hubert L. Dreyfus & Paul Rabinow,
Michel Foucault: Beyond Structuralism and Hermeneutics. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press 1982, pp. 216–217.
202 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 34. Even after the Second World War when the
figure of the personal decision-maker was retreating more and more into the
background in Schmitt’s work, and the technological dream of world domination was reaching a deeper phase, he nevertheless believed that one has to
pose the most significant questions in terms of a person: “Who is the great
appropriator, the great divider and distributor of our planet, the manager and
planner of unified world production?” Schmitt, “Appropriation”, p. 335.
71
analyses and radical conclusions. It points towards an analysis of
politics represented – although it does not seem to have any representative function – by the obscure figure of the “sovereign whoever”.
Besides, unlike Schmitt, to whom “authority emanates from
the top, trust from the bottom”,203 Foucault approaches politics
from the bottom up, not from the perspective of a prince but from
the perspective of resistance. For this reason, he does not speak on
behalf of the sovereign person whose political decision would disrupt the self-propelling panoptic machine, but on behalf of something which “in some sense” always escapes the machine, namely
on behalf of a “certain plebeian quality” (“de la” blèbe). The question concerns a quality to the extent that for Foucault the plebs
refers neither to a real sociological entity, nor to “reactive primal
matter”. Rather, it refers to a certain “centrifugal movement”, an
“inverse energy”, a “discharge”:
There is plebs in bodies, in souls, in individuals, in the proletariat, in
the bourgeoisie, but everywhere in a diversity of forms and extensions,
of energies and irreducibilities. This measure of plebs is not so much
what stands outside relations of power as their limit, their underside,
their counter-stroke, that which responds to every advance of power by
a movement of disengagement.204
But the plebeian points of resistance are not only the underside or
internal limit of power. They are also the motivation “for every
new development of networks of power”.205 Because of this, the
plebeian resistance is important and even indispensable, not only
for an analysis of the apparatuses of power, as Foucault suggests,
203 Schmitt, “Legalität und Legitimität”, p. 87.
204 Michel Foucault, “Power and Strategies.” In Colin Gordon (ed.), Power/Knowledge. Selected Interviews and Other Writings by Michel Foucault. New York:
Pantheon Books 1980, p. 139.
205 Foucault, “Power and Strategies”, p. 138.
72
but also for power itself. It is, as the Schmittian sovereign, constitutive (“a chemical catalyst”) for the networks of power.206 Foucault’s
plebs is situated exactly in the same place as the Schmittian sovereign who is “outside the normally valid legal order”, but “nevertheless belongs to it” as its constitutive instance. It is outside the networks of power, but it nevertheless belongs to them, not as a part
but in relation to their totality: “Where there is power, there is
resistance.”207 The plebs founds the networks of power in toto, not
by deciding on them but by resisting them. In this sense, the plebs
has the same function as Schmitt’s sovereign decision. It is “located
in the break”208 of the panoptic power in the same way as the
Schmittian sovereign – as well as the people in Verfassungslehre – is
located in the break of the legal order. In both cases the break is
decisive. Therefore, the plebs and the sovereign, the point of resistance and that of decision are concepts of the same sphere, namely
the “extreme sphere”, which sustains every rule.
* * *
206 On resistance as a “chemical catalyst” of power relations see Foucault, “The
Subject and Power”, p. 211. Interestingly enough, in his analysis on the “ob¡ iz¡ek develops an idea of a chemical
sessional subjective attitude”, Slavoj Z
¡ iz¡ek’s view,
catalyst which is equivalent to Schmitt’s notion of sovereignty. In Z
the most succinct definition of the so-called “obsessional subjective attitude”
is the formula “include me out”, which implies in Lacanian parlance that the
subject is not simply included into the signifier’s network (“symbolic order”),
but rather his very exclusion from it is “included” in it, marked and registered
by it. In chemistry this position – “the position of a pure invisible mediator”
– corresponds to that of a catalyst, that is to say, to a substance which speeds
up or even sets in motion a process of chemical reactions without itself changing
¡ iz¡ek, The Ticklish Subject: The Absent
or being affected in any way. Slavoj Z
Centre of Political Ontology. London: Verso 1999, p. 110.
207 Foucault, The History of Sexuality, p. 95.
208 Foucault, “What is an Author?” p. 107.
73
Like Foucault, also Schmitt has been accused of vitalism and not without cause. For instance, Schmitt’s concept of the constituent people
(Volk) in Verfassungslehre seems to fulfill all the criteria for vitalism. According to Schmitt, a people belongs to a sphere of living immediacy,
which resists all representation and organization. A people is the constituent entity which cannot be constituted, the organizing entity which
cannot be organized. A people is
the source of all power, which manifests itself always in new forms, and produces always new forms and organizations out of itself, but which never submits its political existence to a final form.209
Also Schmitt’s concept of decision, especially in Political Theology, can
be considered as a vitalistic response to the abstractions of normative
juridical thinking. In the decision, the “power of real life” breaks through
the “shell of a mechanism that has become torpid by repetition”. However, we should not confuse Schmitt’s vitalism with that of the romantic
Lebensphilosophie of the 19th century. Schmitt’s concept of life does
not denote life as such “in its complete spiritual emptiness and mere
dynamic”,210 but that which he calls the concrete, that is, concrete acts
and events. As a matter of fact, Schmitt identifies the romantic
Lebensphilosophie as his intellectual enemy. Even though Lebensphilosophie
claims to oppose the Enlightenment belief in reason, Schmitt sees these
two as complementing each other. Admittedly, unlike in the rational
scientific-technical world-view which emphasizes the general and the
objective, the romantic Lebensphilosophie focuses on the singular and
the subjective. According to Schmitt, their relation to concrete reality is
nevertheless the same. From their point of view, every thing, object, and
person is commensurable and interchangeable. In the scientific-technical vision this commensurability – indifference – is the point of departure. In the romantic Lebensphilosophie the indifference is instead caused
209 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 79.
210 Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 17.
74
by the attitude of the romantic who views every object as a source of his
aesthetic creativity and subjective enjoyment:
The individual subject treats the world as the occasio of his activity and productivity. For him, even the greatest external event – a revolution or a world
war – is intrinsically indifferent. The incident becomes significant only when
it has become the occasion for a great experience, a genial apprehension, or
some other romantic creation.211
Consequently, the satisfaction of the romantic’s thirst for experience
feeds the progress based on scientific-technical development. In the totally rationalized machinery of production, it functions as its irrational
and consumptive pole. In Schmitt’s view, however, consumption itself
does not amount to a true activity, but merely to a kind of emotive
responsiveness: “He has no other activity except that of mood.”212 Insofar as Schmitt regards this mood as purely passive, romantic activity
becomes “a contradiction in terms”.213 Ultimately, Schmitt prefers even
Don Quixote’s absurd activity to the aesthetically meaningful passivity
of the romantic. Unlike the latter, who overcomes all antitheses in higher
synthesis and who therefore cannot hold fast “to an important political
idea on the basis of a free decision”,214 Don Quixote was still “capable of
seeing the difference between right and wrong” and of making a “definitive, disjunctive judgment” in favor of what seemed right to him. 215
Perhaps it is not just a coincidence that Schmitt takes a stand on
behalf of Don Quixote’s absurd activity, since the concept of sovereignty
that he formulates in the battle against his own windmills, against the
“self-propelling machines” and their “satanic spirit”, is itself quite absurd. For the authority – and thereby the legitimacy – of Schmitt’s sovereign decision does not derive from any substantial concept of justice,
211
212
213
214
215
Schmitt, Political Romanticism, pp. 96–97.
Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 97.
Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 160.
Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 51.
Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 147.
75
either that of positive or that of natural law, but from the decision itself, from the decision in its absolute purity: “The decision becomes
instantly independent of argumentative substantiation and receives an
autonomous value.”216 The foundation of the legitimacy of the decision is the decision itself: “Every concrete juristic decision contains a
moment of indifference from the perspective of content.”217 Schmitt’s
indifference for the content shows that he does not criticize the positivists’ normative formalism from the point of view of content but from
the point of view of form. At issue is not the form of law but the form
¡ iz¡ek correctly sugof decision, not normative formalism but, as Slavoj Z
218
gests, decisionist formalism. But why should one affirm the concrete
form of the act instead of the concrete content of law? The explanation
can be found, again, in Schmitt’s diagnosis of late modernity. Schmitt
sees late modernity as an epoch in which all traditional values and
thereby all conditional authority – legitimacy that depends on a substantial concept of justice – face a fundamental crisis. For this reason,
¡ iz¡ek points out, “there is no way of escaping formalism within
as Z
the horizon of modernity”.219 Nevertheless, normative formalism
cannot respond to this crisis because of its neglect of the concrete order. Decisionist formalism, on the contrary, can address it, not because
it could offer a new substantial concept of justice, but because it is able
to provide a concrete remedy for the decline of authority. Instead of
conditional authority, decisionist formalism outlines a theoretical foundation for unconditional authority, for the sovereign decision in “absoSchmitt, Political Theology, p. 31.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 30.
¡ iz¡ek, The Ticklish Subject, pp. 113–115. However, Z
¡ iz¡ek emphases the forZ
mal character of the imposed order and not that of the decision itself: “The
decision which bridges this gap” – the gap between rule and actual life – “is
not a decision for some concrete order, but primarily the decision for the
¡ iz¡ek, “Carl Schmitt in the
formal principle of order as such”. See also Slavoj Z
Age of Post-Politics.” In Chantal Mouffe (ed.), The Challenge of Carl Schmitt.
London: Verso 1999, p. 19.
¡ iz¡ek, “Carl Schmitt”, p. 19.
219 Z
216
217
218
76
lute purity”.220 If “God is dead”, as Nietzsche had witnessed, we need
an authority that is not dependent on God, in other words on Revelation, Nature, Reason, or Tradition. Schmitt’s sovereign is such an authority, an absolutely independent authority: “Authority proves that to
produce law it need not be based on law.”221 Like his Spanish fellow
Donoso Cortés, Schmitt idealizes the moment of decision to such an
extent that the notion of legitimacy finally dissolves.
Yet, it is not only the notion of legitimacy, which becomes dissolved
in Schmitt’s case, but also the sovereign’s person. In the last analysis, the
decision has an independent and autonomous value also with respect to
the sovereign himself. The decision creates, to the extent that it precedes
all actual instances, the sovereign as sovereign.222 This is why the sovereign is not in fact anything but a name for the taking place of the absolute
decision. In other words, the sovereign is never a given instance, a prince
or a dictator, who decides on the state of exception but, on the contrary,
the one who decides on the state of exception is the sovereign: “The
sovereign is not a legitimate monarch or a competent instance but precisely the one who decides in a sovereign way.”223 Therefore, it is not
possible to identify Schmitt’s sovereign with the person of the sovereign.
It is not the sovereign as a person who is sovereign, but the sovereign
decision: “The sovereign decision is an absolute beginning and the beginning is nothing else than a sovereign decision.”224 From this perspective,
Schmitt’s personalism appears to be a mere façade. The sovereign is
anyone who is capable of deciding on the state of exception: “The sovereign is whoever decides what constitutes an exception.”225 Here the nihilism of normative formalism finally meets its Schmittian counterpart,
the nihilism of the decision that “emanates from nothingness”.
220 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 13.
221 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 13.
222 The decision cannot be “deduced from a preceding norm or from a preexisting order”. Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
223 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
224 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, pp. 23–24.
225 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 43.
77
German Stock
It could be claimed that in National-Socialist Germany the place
of the “sovereign nothingness” was occupied by Adolf Hitler. In
Schmitt’s view, however, this was not the case, because for him
Hitler’s decisions were acts which realized the essence of the German people. As we have seen, Schmitt’s decisionist theory of sovereignty excludes all essentialism. A legal order is not valid because of
some substantive criteria of legitimacy but because the sovereign
decides on its validity: Auctoritas, non veritas, facit legem. Therefore, Schmitt could not regard Hitler as sovereign. Unlike sovereign decisions, his decisions did not spring out of “a normative
nothingness and from a concrete disorder”.226 They were inseparable from the essence of the German people – and this essence
could not be described as a “concrete disorder”. Besides, although
Schmitt admitted that Hitler was the leader (Führer) of the German people, to lead in this case did not signify “to command, to
dictate, to govern bureaucratically from the center or any other
kind of rule”.227 In Schmitt’s view, Führer did not lead the Germans like a Platonic steersman steering his ship or a Christian shepherd leading his flock. The steersman and the shepherd transcend
the crew and the flock, whereas the National-Socialist leader neither commands nor transcends the German people but immanently
realizes its essence: “It is a concept of the immediately present and
of a real presence.”228 For these reasons, Schmitt was forced to rethink the premises of his theory of law.
Schmitt was forced to rethink these premises also because in
National-Socialist Germany, insofar as the Weimar Constitution
was merely suspended but never formally abrogated, the state of
226 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 24.
227 Schmitt, State, Movement, People, p. 46.
228 Schmitt, State, Movement, People, p. 48.
78
exception became the rule. Although he used to criticize the normative bias of legal positivism, the concept of legal norm remained
nevertheless a basic form-element of jurisprudence for him. To the
extent that this element was permanently suspended in NationalSocialist Germany, also the decision became unmoored, floating
“freely in the air”.229 Admittedly, the National-Socialist state continued to impose laws, but the “reliability and calculability” of laws
presuppose a normal situation. Given that the state of exception
had become the rule, also reliability and calculability vanished:
The fiction of the normativist commitment of the judge to a law has
nowadays become theoretically and practically unsustainable in many
essential spheres of the life of legal practice. On the whole, the law
cannot any more find the calculability and reliability which were part of
the definition of the law in the doctrine of the constitutional State
(Rechtsstaat).230
“Nowadays”, Schmitt continues, “general clauses and vague concepts” have invaded all spheres of legal life.231 However, all “legal
life” presupposes a set of relatively stable rules to follow, a set of
relatively firm signposts relying on which a jurist can orient himself. In National-Socialist Germany, Schmitt discovered such a signpost in the substantial concept of “German stock”. Throughout
his life, he had sought for substance in jurisprudence, but his efforts had more or less failed, because the only alternatives had been
legal positivism and natural law – and natural law was out of the
question insofar as it was outmoded, that is, excluded from the
“conceptually articulated social structure” of late modernity. In the
era of absolute immanence, all efforts to erect new transcendent
foundations would have been futile. Therefore, Schmitt was forced
229 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
230 Schmitt, State, Movement, People, p. 48.
231 Schmitt, State, Movement, People, p. 49.
79
to remain within the framework of legal positivism – although his
thought focused on the frames themselves, that is, on the very borders of this framework. But the National-Socialist revolution did
not hesitate to bring forth the substantial concept of “German
stock”, which opened the way for substantial notions and thereby,
concrete signposts also in jurisprudence. Because of their substantiality, these signposts were, in fact, overwhelmingly superior to
the formal signposts of legal positivism:
We seek a commitment which is deeper, more reliable and more imbued with life than the deceptive attachment to the distorted letter of
thousands of paragraphs of the law. Where else can it rest but in ourselves, and in our kin.232
In Schmitt’s view, it is the kin, and more specifically, the substantial notion of “an absolute ethnic identity between leader and following” that must “pervade all the judicial deliberations” and “dominate all public law” in National-Socialist Germany. Every legal
scientist of “the new German jurisprudence” needs to become aware
of the systematic force of this notion of ethnic identity, for without
it “the National-Socialist state cannot exist, and its legal life would
be unimaginable”.233 According to Montesquieu, the judge is only
the mouth that pronounces the words of the law, but Schmitt points
out that he failed to take into account the “diversity of mouths”:
“We hear how these same words are ‘pronounced’ very differently”
depending on one’s “people and race”. An alien may read the same
texts but he would understand them differently because “he is differently disposed, and remains, in every crucial train of thought, in
the existential condition of his own kind”.234 For the Nazis this
alien was first and foremost incarnated in the Jew. In 1935 also
232 Schmitt, State, Movement, People, p. 52.
233 Schmitt, State, Movement, People, p. 48.
234 Schmitt, State. Movement, People, p. 51.
80
Schmitt came to this conclusion proclaiming that the Nuremberg
Laws form the constitution of freedom. However, these laws did
not form the constitution of freedom because they were enacted by
the sovereign, but because the essence of the German people was
realized in them.
The theory of “ethnic identity” in State, Movement, People
(1933) was the first expression of a transformation in Schmitt’s
thought towards the thinking of “concrete order”. According to
this thinking, law is no longer understood as a decision and a command, but as emanating from the preexisting order of community.235 In this book, however, this direction of his thought had not
yet found its firm ground in the total concept of nomos, which
started to dominate Schmitt’s legal theorization from 1934 onwards, when he published a book titled Über die drei Arten des
rechtswissenschaftlichen Denkens. And although it is impossible to
understand the transformation in Schmitt’s thought without the
historical context of the National-Socialist revolution, Schmitt never
totally abandoned the project of “concrete order thinking”. On the
contrary, a great deal of his post Second World War work is devoted to elaborating the thinking of concrete order and the organization (Gestaltung) of a particular community. But before a more
comprehensive analysis of the thinking of concrete order, we must
return to Schmitt’s decisionist phase and especially to his concept
of the political.
235 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
81
82
4. The Concept of the Political
Adam and Eve had two sons, Cain and Abel. This is
how the history of humanity begins. This is what the
father of all things looks like. Here is the dialectical
tension that keeps world history in motion – and
world history has not yet come to its end.
Carl Schmitt, Ex Captivitate Salus
If Schmitt’s idea of sovereign intervention is a response to the rationalist
schemes of legal and state theory, and if a moral decision is an answer to
the immanence-based philosophy of life in which beautiful forms emanate from the absence of decision, then the concept of the political in
The Concept of the Political (1932) is also a response to a specific political problem, namely the problem of what Schmitt calls the “unification
of the world”. If the sovereign guarantees that something “new and alien”
will appear in the machine become torpid by repetition – the new and
alien that is ultimately the precondition of every concrete order – then
Schmitt’s concept of the political, that is, the real possibility of war
between organized political entities, between friends and enemies, is a
guarantee that globalization, the worldwide enclosure of absolute immanence, will not reach its ultimate aim, the Babylonian unity of the
world.236
Not unlike in his treatment of the concept of sovereignty, Schmitt
begins by stating that the concept of the political is not a normative
concept but an existential one. Furthermore, he specifies that his intention is not to provide either an “exhaustive definition” or “one indica236 See for instance Carl Schmitt, “Die Einheit der Welt” (1952). In Staat,
Großraum, Nomos. Arbeiten aus den Jahren 1916–1969. Berlin: Duncker &
Humblot 1995, pp. 496–505.
83
tive of substantial content”, but a definition in the sense of criterion. 237
For Schmitt, the criterion of the political, its concrete condition of
possibility, is the antithesis of friend and enemy. It is only this antithesis
which distinguishes the sphere of the political from other kinds of
relatively autonomous spheres of human thought and action, such as
ethics, aesthetics and economics. According to Schmitt, these relatively
independent spheres, like the political sphere, are also based on fundamental antitheses. The moral sphere is based on the antithesis of good
and evil, the economic sphere on the antithesis of profitable and unprofitable and the aesthetic sphere on the antithesis of beautiful and ugly.
Schmitt’s point is that the distinction between friend and enemy cannot
be reduced to any of these distinctions, or to any other distinction.
Psychologically, Schmitt admits, the enemy is easily perceived as evil
and ugly, but this fact neither abolishes the autonomy of the political
distinction nor threatens the sphere determined by it. The reverse is also
true. The morally evil is not necessarily the enemy, nor is the good or
the beautiful necessarily the friend in the political sense of these terms.
Yet, we should not take the autonomous nature of the political too
literally. Schmitt lays emphasis upon the impossibility of reducing the
distinction between friend and enemy to other distinctions. In fact, the
political is in a sense subjected to other spheres insofar as it has no
substance of its own. It draws its contents and energies from these other
spheres, from religion, ethics, economy, and so on. If these contents are
removed, the political would amount to nothing at all,238 which is why
the criterion of the political is as formal as that of sovereignty. Nevertheless, the other spheres are subjected to the political insofar as the
criterion of the political forms the most extreme and intensive of the
antitheses. Its ultimate manifestation is killing the opponent.239 Because of this, it is also the most decisive distinction:
237 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 26.
238 Schmitt, “Ethic of State”, p. 203.
239 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 33.
84
The real friend-enemy grouping is existentially so strong and decisive that the
nonpolitical antithesis, at precisely the moment at which it becomes political,
pushes aside and subordinates its hitherto purely religious, purely economic,
purely cultural criteria and motives to the conditions and conclusions of the
political situation at hand. In any event, that grouping is always political
which orients itself toward this most extreme possibility.240
Hence, an ethical, economic or aesthetic antithesis becomes political at
the moment when the real possibility of killing the adversary manifests
itself. An antithesis becomes immediately political if it is intensive enough
to divide a group of people into friends and enemies:
Because the political has no substance of its own, the point of the political
can be reached from any terrain, and any social group, church, union, combine, nation, becomes political, and thereby of the state, as it approaches the
point of highest intensity.241
For example, a class in the Marxian sense ceases to be an economic
designator and becomes a political entity when it reaches this decisive
point. At that moment the bourgeoisie, the antithesis of the proletariat,
is transformed from an economic competitor to a real political enemy.
If Schmitt thus emphasizes the foundational nature of the political, he also stresses the concreteness of the enemy at the foundation of
the political. The enemy needs to be understood in its concrete and
existential sense and not as a metaphor or a symbol. Least of all, Schmitt
argues, should the enemy be interpreted in an individualistic sense as a
psychological expression of private emotions and tendencies. The enemy as the concrete condition of possibility of the political is a real
enemy. He is existentially so “other and strange” that a conflict with
him becomes a real possibility.242 It is this “most extreme possibility”
that constitutes the political. Nevertheless, Schmitt’s notion of the en-
240 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 38.
241 Schmitt, “Ethic of State”, p. 203.
242 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 27.
85
emy does not apply to every antagonist, but only to a public enemy.
Private individuals, associations and other such instances may have opponents but only political entities have real enemies: “For an individual
as such there is no enemy.”243 In this sense, Schmitt subscribes to Plato’s
distinction between private (echthros) and public (polemios) enemies,
corresponding to two forms of struggle, a dispute between the Hellenes
(stasis) and a real war against barbarians (polemos).244 But Schmitt emphasizes that every private – religious, ethical, economic – dispute,
every stasis, has the potential to become a struggle between friends
and enemies and thus, a public war between public enemies. In other
words, every private dispute leads potentially to the constitution of a
separate political entity.245 Tribes, cities, and Empires, for instance, have
been such entities, but Schmitt emphasizes repeatedly that in the modern Europe they are above all states. Only the states – understood as
“the political status of an organized people in an enclosed territorial
entity”246 – have enemies in modernity.
Despite this, Schmitt’s concept of the political cannot be reduced
to the state. On the contrary, the state presupposes the concept of the
political.247 The antithesis of friend and enemy is historically and
ontologically prior to the state. The state – as well as any other political
entity – is merely a means of organizing this fundamental antithesis. It
is a means of pacifying internally and controlling externally the original
243 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 71.
244 “Then when Greeks do battle with barbarians or barbarians with Greeks,
we’ll say that they’re natural enemies and that such hostilities are to be called
war [polemos]. But when Greeks fight with Greeks, we’ll say that they are
natural friends and that in such circumstances Greece is sick and divided into
factions and that such hostilities are to be called civil war [stasis].” Plato,
Republic. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Company 1997, 470c.
245 For this reason it is possible for Schmitt to speak of a domestic enemy (innern
Feind) as a real political enemy. Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 46.
246 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 19.
247 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 19.
86
struggle between various groups of individuals. But there exists no political entity, which could abolish the real possibility of this struggle: “Nothing can escape the conclusion of the political.”248 For this reason, the
primary concern of a political entity is to encounter this possibility, to
orient itself “toward this most extreme possibility”. Encountering this
possibility signifies in turn encountering a possible enemy. Therefore
the primary question concerning the existence of a political entity is:
“Who would be an enemy?”249 Contrary to claims made by some,250
the enemy is not a natural given in Schmitt’s theory. Admittedly, the
enemy is, by definition, the “other and strange” who constitutes a threat
to our way of life, to our art of existence.251 But this threatening otherness, “the most extreme intensification of otherness”,252 is thoroughly
contingent in the sense that it cannot be determined beforehand. The
enemy cannot be “decided by a previously determined general norm”.253
The enemy may be to be another race, speak another language, confess
another religion or represent another culture. Nevertheless, there exists
no a priori criterion either for the enemy or for the friend in Schmitt’s
theory. The enemy is anyone who is concretely disclosed, at the miraculous moment of revealing, as the other and hence, as a real threat to our
existence. Respectively, friends – that is to say we – are all those who
share the feeling of threat, that is to say, those who are shaken by the
otherness of the other, and whose collective identity depends on its threat.
In Schmitt’s view, it is precisely this moment of identification, which
discloses the concrete enemy and constitutes the intensive sphere of the
248 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 36.
249 See Carl Schmitt, Ex Captivitate Salus. Köln: Greven Verlag 1950, p. 89.
250 See for instance Jürgen Habermas, The Inclusion of the Other. Cambridge:
The MIT Press 1999, pp. 134–142. Habermas regards Schmitt’s concept of
the political as the basis for an ethnic theory of the state and democracy.
251 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 27.
252 Carl Schmitt, “The Constitutional Theory of Federation” (1928). Telos
No 91, Spring 1992, p. 38.
253 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 27.
87
political: “The high points of politics are the moments in which the
enemy comes into view, in concrete clarity, as the enemy.”254
To the extent that, according to Schmitt, what matters for the reality of legal and political life is who decides, the essential question becomes: Who identifies the enemy, who decides on the enemy? Firstly,
he has to be someone who is involved in the situation. The enemy cannot be decided by the “judgment of a ‘non-involved’ and therefore ‘neutral’ third party”.255 Secondly, he has to be someone who is capable of
deciding, that is, of distinguishing between a friend and an enemy.
Schmitt holds that this is not a question of mere authorization. He
must have a real capacity to decide, he must be a subject “capable of
action”.256 And the one who has this capacity, the one who has the real
capacity for political decision par excellence, is the sovereign. It is precisely this capacity which defines sovereignty, not vice versa. Anyone
who really is capable of deciding on the – external or internal – enemy
is the sovereign.
However, only a few have been capable of making this decision. In
the modern world, only the state, the European political form which
appeared in the late 16th century, has possessed the jus belli, the possibility of waging war and thus, of publicly disposing of the lives of men.
Although the political precedes the state, the state – the status of the
political entity of a people – has had, in this particular historical situation, the concrete power to decide: a monopoly on decision. According
to Max Weber, the state can be defined in terms of its monopoly on
violence, but Schmitt does not subscribe to this well-known definition.
In his view, jus vitae ac necis, the verdict on life and death, can also
254 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 67. Translation modified.
255 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 27.
256 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 152. Here the point of reference is the constitution, but it also applies in the case of the enemy to the extent that a decision
on the constitution signifies for Schmitt a decision on the enemy: “The people
have a political consciousness, that is to say, it can distinguish friend and
enemy.” Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 247.
88
belong to another instance within the state, for example, to the family
or to the head of the household.257 Instead, Schmitt defines the state by
its monopoly on decision concerning the recognition of the enemy and
the declaration of war. This decision suspends, at least temporarily, all
other rights including the right of vendettas between families. This –
and not the monopoly on violence – is the reason why the state transcends all other associations, families and heads of households.258 This
decision is the “high point of politics”.
State-monster
Although Schmitt considered the state to have the monopoly on
decision, he was not blind to the decline of the state in the 20th
century. In his view, the end of the “era of the states” was indeed at
hand, especially because the jus belli as the criterion for statehood
was moving beyond the reach of many states. This being the case,
it is understandable that he delineated a concept of the political
257 See Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 48.
258 On this basis Schmitt criticizes Harold Laski’s and G. D. H. Cole’s “pluralist
theories” of the state and society. These theories deny the sovereignty of the
state by stressing that the individual lives partaking in numerous different
social entities and associations. All these associations control him to differing
degrees and impose upon him, according to Schmitt’s interpretation, “a cluster of obligations in such a way that no one of these associations can be said to
be decisive and sovereign”. The state is thus placed at the same level with the
religious and economic associations. According to Schmitt, however, it is
untenable to claim that the power of these associations equals the power of
the state. It is possible for them to intervene in the lives of the people, but
only the state, the political entity, can decide on the enemy. Schmitt, The
Concept of the Political, pp. 40–45. In contrast to this false pluralism, which
is after all, in Schmitt’s view, monistic in nature insofar as its ultimate point of
reference is a monistic concept of humanity, he posits the plurality of political
unities.
89
that was not dependent on the state and outlined new forms of
political order which preceded the state (nomos) or went beyond its
national boundaries (Großraum). Despite this, Schmitt stressed the
value of the juristically rationalized and sovereign state throughout
his career. The state commanded his respect, not because of inherent moral superiority but because it was capable of ending the
European civil war – the chaotic Wars of Religion – and of establishing public order, safety and peace. It was capable of representing itself as neutral in relation to the religious sects, which made it
an imperium rationis (Hobbes) and the realm of objective spirit
(Hegel). This neutrality and above all sovereignty made possible,
besides individual liberty,259 a new form of international law between the states, jus publicum Europaeum. From the perspective of
world history, Schmitt regarded this order as unique, because it
formed the precondition for what he called, following Proudhoun
and Vattel, “limited war” or “war in form”. As we shall see later,
this resulted in Schmitt’s view in a juridical rationalization and
humanization of warfare, which prevented the morality-based total destruction characteristic of antiquity and the Middle Ages. The
enemy was no longer a barbarian, a pagan or a criminal, but a just
enemy ( justus hostis).
Nevertheless, it is precisely because of the rationality of the
state – because of the fact that the state is “the product of human
reason” and legitimated solely by this reason – why Schmitt sees in
it, especially after his turn towards the thinking of “concrete order”
in 1933, the cause for the decline of the state. The state is a remedy
for civil and international disorder, but it is also at the same time a
poison, the first step towards a general technologization. The state is
the first modern machine and the concrete precondition for all
259 “In the case of the single individual, experience tells us that there is no space
for his freedom other than what a strong state guarantees.” On the mutual
relationship between the strong state and individual freedom see Schmitt,
“Ethic of State”, pp. 200–201.
90
future machines. The state is the “first product of the age of technology, the first modern mechanism in a grand style”, machina
machinarum.260 In Schmitt’s view, the first model of this machine
was outlined by Thomas Hobbes. Before his turn towards the thinking of “concrete order”, Schmitt saw in Hobbes the first genuine
decisionist and therefore, his intellectual predecessor: “The classical representative of the decisionist type is Thomas Hobbes.”261
After the Nazi takeover, however, his attitude towards Hobbes
changed. Of course, this change of mind is self-evident to the extent that it is precisely Schmitt’s own decisionism that is at stake in
this turn. In other words, Schmitt’s criticism of Hobbes is also directed at himself.262 But this is not the only reason for Schmitt’s
increasingly critical attitude towards Hobbes. As already mentioned,
he also sees in Leviathan the first model to represent the state as a
machine. The reason for this is that the Hobbesian state is the first
thoroughly manmade political organization whose power and legitimacy are not derived from a divine sphere but is a product of
human work, coming about because of a covenant entered into by
man. It is true that, on the one hand, Schmitt admires the result of
the covenant, namely the person of the sovereign-representative
260 Carl Schmitt, The Leviathan in the State Theory of Thomas Hobbes (1938).
Westport: Greenwood Press 1996, p. 42.
261 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 33.
262 This is not to say that Schmitt would have been a faitful disciple of Hobbes
even before the turn. For instance, there are differences between Schmitt’s
and Hobbes’ definition of decisionism. According to Hobbes, the command
of the sovereign is the law, but in addition to this he posits a natural right to
self-defense: “Subjects have Liberty to defend their own bodies, even against
them that lawfully invade them.” Thomas Hobbes, Leviathan. Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press 1991, p. 151. There is no room for such rights in
Schmitt’s decisionism. The sovereign decision is the origin of all rights. Therefore, the essence of sovereignty also allows for the possibility that it can demand from its subjects the “readiness to die”. Schmitt, The Concept of the
Political, p. 46.
91
who is much more than the sum total of all the participating particular wills. On the other hand, however, the intrinsic logic of this
manmade product does not culminate “in a person but in a machine”.263 The personification does not arrest the process of mechanization – rather, it completes it. Schmitt admits that for Hobbes,
a mechanism and the image of a machine had, unlike for the intellectuals of the 19th and 20th century, a certain mythical meaning.
Yet, the only meaning that this myth – mythical mechanism – has,
is to guarantee the physical safety of its subjects: “Life is of interest
only insofar as it concerns the here and the now, the physical existence of the individual, of actual living beings.”264 For this reason,
leviathan turns out to be, ultimately and out of necessity, a technical and thus, a neutral instrument, independent of all religious,
metaphysical, juristic, or political considerations or aims. Its values, its truth and justice, reside in its technical perfection. Schmitt
also admits that historically this leviathan does not come into being until the nineteenth century, when the most “nihilist” version
of the bourgeois constitutional state (Rechtsstaat), namely the positivist law state (Gesetzesstaat), appears. Nevertheless, the idea of the
state as a technically complete machine was first grasped by Hobbes.
For this reason, Schmitt sees Hobbes as the first to start on the
path to the general neutralization of every truth, which culminates
in “general technologization”.265
In defense of Hobbes’ machine Schmitt states that it brings
about the unity of religion and politics, auctoritas and potestas,
thereby retaining a non-mundane legitimacy even though the line
263 Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 34.
264 Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 35.
265 Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 42. According to Schmitt, the worst consequence
of this is the disappearance of the friend-enemy groupings: “The technologizing of the state makes superfluous all distinctions among Jews, heathens,
and Christians and culminates in the realm of total neutrality.” Schmitt, The
Leviathan, p. 15.
92
of argument is inverse to that of a theological legitimation of politics. For Hobbes, it is politics which legitimates theology: Cujus
regio, ejus religio. The result is nevertheless the same: “The state is
God’s highest representative on earth.”266 But in Schmitt’s view
Hobbes fails in one decisive point. He differentiates inner faith
from outer confession, the private from the public. Although the
state decides on public confession – a miracle is what the sovereign
state authorities command it to be – Hobbes nevertheless leaves it
to the individual’s private judgment to believe or not to believe in
his heart. In other words, one has to believe what the state commands, but only in public. Privately one can think whatever one
wants: “A private man has always the liberty (because thought is
free) to believe, or not to believe in his heart.”267 Schmitt perceives
in this bifurcation “the seed of death” that destroyed the “mighty
leviathan from within”.268 It made the inroads to modern liberalism and individualism. In Schmitt’s assessment, however, this crack
was barely visible in Hobbes’ theoretical justification of the state.
The appearance of one “liberal Jew” – Baruch Spinoza – was needed
in order for this incipient form to emerge fully developed. Following Hobbes’ argument, Spinoza affirmed that state power can regulate the external cult, but not the internal worship of God. But
according to Schmitt Spinoza did not stop here. From this idea he
derived a universal principle of freedom of thought, perception,
and expression. For Spinoza, individual freedom of thought became thus the form-giving principle whilst the sovereign state was
transformed into a mere supplement:
A small intellectual switch emanating from the nature of Jewish life
accomplished, with the simplest logic and in the span of a few years, the
decisive turn in the fate of the leviathan.269
266
267
268
269
Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 55.
Hobbes, Leviathan, p. 306.
Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 57.
Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 58.
93
Even though the state realizes the principle of cujus regio, ejus religio,
religion – and thereby all issues of equal importance – is transformed into a private sphere of freedom for an absolutely free individual. Hence, with the impact of Spinoza and such Jewish thinkers as Moses Mendelssohn, the externally powerful state turns out
to be absolutely powerless (“hollow and already dead”) internally,
as regards man’s true “inner self ”.270 However, it was precisely
Hobbes who had “laid the groundwork”.271 Hobbes named his
leviathan “mortal God”, but in Schmitt’s view it proves to be more
mortal than God, because it has only the simulacra of divinity on
its side. Therefore, the mythical forces embodied in the image of
leviathan were easily demythologized already in the 18th century.
The only image left was that of an externally driven lifeless mechanism. This image, with all its repercussions, was materialized in the
19th century liberal law state.
Even as a machine, Schmitt considers the state to be a valuable institution, but only if it can fulfill its ethical duty. Notwithstanding his extensive critique of ethics, the state has an ethical
function for Schmitt, namely that of protecting its subjects against
a “’pre-political’ condition of insecurity”.272 According to Schmitt,
protego ergo obligo is the cogito ergo sum of the state.273 But the
fulfilment of this duty presupposes that the state alone remain the
decisive authority, the visible potestas directa to whom belongs the
assumption of total political responsibility. According to Schmitt,
270
271
272
273
94
Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 61.
Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 57.
Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 45.
Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 53. According to Schmitt there is no
form of order, no reasonable legitimacy or legality without the “eternal combination” of protection and obedience. In practice this means that the state
first protects the physical existence of man, subsequently demanding an unconditional obedience of its laws: “All additional discussion leads to the
‘prepolitical’ condition of insecurity.” Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 45.
it is precisely this ethical function that the positivist law state, resting on the institutions and concepts of liberalism, fails to fulfil.
The positivist law state draws a sharp distinction between the state
and “state-free society”, thus opening the door for the free play of
the indirect – “uncontrolled and invisible” – forces of society. In
Schmitt’s view, this signifies a kind of return of the medieval pluralism of powers, with the reservation that nowadays these “mutually heterogeneous” powers are political parties, trade unions and
other social organizations instead of churches and religious sects.
Yet, the end result is the same. The unequivocal relationship between power and responsibility, protection and obedience ceases
to exist: “The absence of responsibility associated with indirect rule
allows the indirect powers to enjoy all the advantages and suffer
none of the risks.”274 The decisive advantage is provided precisely
by the liberal law state. Its institutions of individual freedom become weapons in the hands of the “most illiberal forces” which use
them like knives “to cut up the leviathan and divide his flesh among
themselves”.275
It is sometimes argued that Schmitt is an advocate of the state,
but in reality he was an advocate of any political entity which is
capable of deciding on the enemy and thereby, of guaranteeing
security, order and peace. Also the state has to be measured against
this criterion out of which, as we have already seen, Schmitt develops his own “ethic of state”, which aims to surpass the nihilistic
agnosticism of the liberal law state (stato agnostico).276 But what
kind of ethics is this? Schmitt’s ethic of the state is not a Kantian
ethics in which the state is subordinated to ethical norms. This
would merely signify that the state is subordinated to those who
create and sustain the norms. Schmitt’s ethic of the state is not a
Hegelian ethics either, insofar as in the latter the state becomes an
274 Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 74.
275 Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 74.
276 Schmitt, “Ethic of State”, p. 198.
95
autonomous ethical subject, which creates the ethical norms.
Schmitt’s ethic of the state is, instead, an ethics for the state defined
by an individual’s duty to participate in the creation of the state:
“The duty towards statehood.”277 In Schmitt’s view, this duty is
the supreme duty, because the existence of the political entity – in
contemporary times the state – is the supreme value:
Every existing political entity finds its value and its ‘right to exists’, not
in the normative justice or the utility of its content, but in its existence.
From the juridical perspective, that which exists as a political power has
a value because it exists.278
Although Schmitt argues against nihilism, his own ethics seems to
be as nihilistic as the agnosticism of the liberal law state. Besides, it
seems to be as tautological as legal positivism in which “something
is valid if it is valid and because it is valid”. In positivism, however,
nihilism concerns existence and tautology norms, whereas in
Schmitt’s existentialism nihilism concerns norms and tautology
existence. In other words, something is valid – valuable – if it exists
and because it exists. Moreover, if the nihilism of legal positivism
leads to the idea of a state without a people, the nihilism of
Schmittian existentialism paves the way for the necessity of the statehood of every people. In fact, this is the cardinal point in Schmitt’s
philosophy of the state. Only a people which has the energy to
form a state will survive. It is true that he criticizes the modern
state, but he criticizes it for not being state enough. It is merely a
caricature of the state, because it has lost the monopoly on politics
– because the people of this state have no energy to maintain itself
in the sphere of politics and to face the real possibility of killing
and being killed. In Schmitt’s worldview, there is no room for such
a people. It will necessarily disappear:
277 See Schmitt, “Ethic of State”, pp. 206–208
278 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 22.
96
If a people no longer possesses the energy or the will to maintain itself
in the sphere of politics, the latter will not thereby vanish from the
world. Only a weak people will disappear.279
The reason for this is not that such a people would have no value,
but the iron necessity of the logic of the political, the eternal struggle
of the peoples for survival.
* * *
Although Schmitt defines the political in terms of a real possibility of
killing – the real possibility of a politically existing people to kill or to be
killed by another politically existing people – the core (Kern) of the
political lies nevertheless in real killing. Real killing reveals the concrete
core of the political: “The core of the matter lies in warfare.”280 But
killing itself – the killing of a public enemy at war in contrast to killing
in the private sphere, which is murder and therefore a mere crime –
cannot be included in the sphere of the political. Killing at war is merely
the ultimate borderline of politics, the extreme case. Just like the state of
exception, war is a borderline concept (Grenzbegriff ), which belongs to
the sphere of the political, but is not included in it. It belongs to it insofar
as the real possibility of war and killing constitutes the sphere of the
political, but it is not included in it insofar as the “political does not reside
in the battle itself ”.281 War has its own essence, its own “rules and points
of view”, which is why military action is not, for Schmitt, a “continuation
of politics by other means”. In fact, an absolute war in its absolute lack
of form would be potentially disastrous for the political sphere to the
extent that it would totally annihilate the enemy, that is, its constitutive
precondition. Moreover, war can be terminated. The real solution to war,
279 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 53.
280 Schmitt, “Total War”, p. 31.
281 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 37.
97
which as such can be regarded as a kind of solution, lies in a peace treaty.
But for the possibility of war and killing, that is, for the question of the
political there is neither termination nor solution, be it political or apolitical.282 In other words, war is not the aim or the purpose or even the
content of politics for Schmitt. Nevertheless, as an ever-present possibility it is the ruling presupposition (Voraussetzung) of politics which “determines in a characteristic way human action and thinking and thereby
creates a specifically political behavior (Verhalten)”.283 It is the concrete
regulative principle of politics. It is the constitutive extreme case, “the
most extreme possibility”, which determines the rule.
Agon and Tragedy
For the reason given above, Schmitt does not share the agonistic
view of the world of his friend Ernst Jünger, in which man becomes a warrior and war the highest value. It may be that today, as
Schmitt writes, the “entire life of a human being is a ‘struggle’ and
every human being symbolically a ‘combatant’”,284 but this is not
the reason why man is a political animal. Contrary to Jünger for
whom it is not so much a question of the ends of war, but of the
intrinsic value of war as an end in itself, Schmitt believes that war is
always a means for attaining tranquility, security and order. Admittedly, also Jünger refers to war as a means, but the end for him
is not security and order. It is the German people’s self-realization.285
For Jünger, war becomes an aesthetic spectacle to be enjoyed for its
282 Besides, as Schmitt emphasizes in the preface to the second edition of Political Theology, “any decision about whether something is unpolitical is always
a political decision, irrespective of who decides and what reasons are advanced”.
Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 2.
283 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 34.
284 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 34.
285 Jünger, “Total Mobilization”, p. 139.
98
own sake. From Schmitt’s perspective, this would merely amount
to a transposition of the romantic – and shallow – thesis of l’art
pour l’art into the sphere of warfare, the consequences of which
would be drastic.
As we have seen, this does not imply that Schmitt would consider war as an antithesis of the political. Its possibility is the ruling
presupposition of politics, which creates political behavior. Instead
of war, for Schmitt the real antithesis of the political is play (Spiel).
According to him, the political has nothing to do with play since it
consists necessarily of a serious (ernst) and a tragic dimension: “In
play lies the fundamental negation of the serious situation [Ernstfall]”,
he writes in his book on Shakespeare, Hamlet oder Hekuba (1954).286
The tragic ends where play begins. The point here is not that Schmitt
would not have been interested in art and drama, quite the contrary.
His critical assessment was only directed at the modern conception
of art and drama, at the tendency to interpret a work of art in terms
of l’art pour l’art, that is, as the autonomous creation of an autonomous artistic genius unrelated to the historical and sociological
reality. As an antithesis to this modern conception, Schmitt highlights the pre-modern – and tragic – concept of drama that, for
instance, Shakespeare’s plays still represent in part. The modern
image of a playwright draws from the “creative freedom” of the
“sovereign genius”, who delivers polished manuscripts to a publisher
for an honorarium. According to Schmitt, however, Shakespeare’s
plays originated in a completely different manner: “He wrote them
not for posterity but for his concrete and immediate London public.”287 In Schmitt’s view, this radically limits the creative freedom
of the playwright. Individual creativity is replaced with sensitivity
for the historical situation out of which a play is born.
286 Carl Schmitt, “The Source of the Tragic” (1956). Telos 72, Summer 1987,
p. 139. Translation in Telos includes chapter 3 of Schmitt, Hamlet oder Hecuba.
Der Einbruch der Zeit in das Spiel (1956). Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta 1993.
287 Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 135.
99
But this is not the reason why Shakespeare’s plays include a
tragic dimension. As such they are merely melancholic plays
(Trauerspiel) for melancholic spectators with concrete historical and
political implications. Although these implications show that “the
play belonged to life itself ”,288 they do not yet elevate Trauerspiel
to the level of tragedy. Something more has to be at stake. According to Schmitt, this “something more” is the objectivity of tragic
action itself:
In relation to every other form, including Trauerspiel, genuine tragedy
has a special and extraordinary quality, a kind of surplus value that no
play, however perfect, can attain because a play, unless it misunderstands itself, does not even want to attain it. This surplus value lies in
the objective reality of tragic action itself, in the enigmatic involvement
and entanglement of indisputably real people in the unpredictable course
of indisputable events.289
This is the basis, Schmitt continues, for the seriousness of tragic
action which, “being impossible to fictionalize or relativize”, cannot even be set to play. In a genuine tragedy, all participants are
conscious of an ineluctable reality which “no human mind has conceived” – a reality externally given, imposed and unavoidable: “This
reality is the mute rock upon which the play flounders and the
foam of genuine tragedy rises to the surface.”290 This is also the
insurmountable limit of literary invention. A writer can invent a
great deal, but he cannot invent the realistic core of tragic action:
“The core of tragic action, the source of genuine tragedy, is something so irrevocable that no mortal can invent it, no genius can
compose it.”291 Tragic action and invention are irreconcilable and
mutually exclusive.
288
289
290
291
100
Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 144.
Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 143.
Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 143.
Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 143.
Although Schmitt regards Shakespeare’s plays as Trauerspielen,
this does not imply that they would not have a tragic dimension in
his view. In Hamlet, for instance, there are two main openings through
which tragic seriousness breaks into the sphere of the play: the taboo which surrounds the quilt of the queen (in Gertrude’s ambiguous guilt Shakespeare raises the question of responsibility of Mary
Queen Scots for the death of her husband) and the distortion of the
avenger which leads to the hamletization of the hero (in Hamlet’s
indecision, Shakespeare figures James I, caught between the Catholics and the Reformation).292 From the perspective of the play, both
openings are “shadows, two dark areas”.293 They are something that
intrudes, that cannot be integrated in the play itself. The tragic
begins where the play ends: “We cannot ignore the unplayability of
the tragic.”294 These intrusions introduce an element of objective
reality, “externally given, imposed and unavoidable”, at the heart of
the play – a reality “around which the play timidly maneuvers”.
They disturb the rigorous construction of the play, but at the same
time they make it possible for the figure of Hamlet to become a
myth: “They succeeded in elevating Trauerspiel to tragedy.”295
As a matter of fact, Schmitt distinguishes two sources of the
tragic. In addition to the given historical circumstances, also myth
can be a source of tragedy. However, myth – at least in the Attic
tragedy – is not to be interpreted as a literary source of tragedy. A
true myth is itself a part of the reality to “which all participants are
bound by their historical existence”.296 For this reason, the Attic
tragedy is not simply play. An element of reality flows into the
performance from the spectators’ actual knowledge of the myth. In
292 See also Victoria Kahn, “Hamlet or Hecuba: Carl Schmitt’s Decision.” Representations 83, Summer 2003, p. 83.
293 Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 142.
294 Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 139.
295 Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 142.
296 Schmitt, “The Source”, p. 143.
101
both cases, it is therefore a given historical reality which constitutes
the core of tragic action. Nevertheless, in Schmitt’s view a given
historical reality becomes effective reality only insofar as it is elevated to the level of myth. Hence, the historical and political implications do not suffice by themselves. One has to make a myth
from reality, as Shakespeare in Schmitt’s view does. Therefore, the
opposition of tragedy and play is not that of reality and fiction but
first and foremost, the opposition of the mythic reality of the political and the shallow reality of “culture, civilization, economics,
morality, law, art, entertainment […]”297
It has been argued that Schmitt aestheticizes politics and war
in the same vein as Jünger.298 But it seems to me that, on the contrary, Schmitt tries – almost like Walter Benjamin – to politicize
aesthetics, to bring the political dimension back into art. Unlike
Benjamin, however, Schmitt does not seek to disclose the potential
of art for emancipation, but rather to renew the bond between art
and institutional power. In his view, this bond is necessary, not primarily because the artists must be controlled,299 but because institutional power devoid of “aesthetic beauty of form”300 would be a
297 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 53.
298 According to Richard Wolin, for instance, it is in his description of war “qua
existential, ultimate instance of politics” that Schmitt exposes most clearly his
intellectual affinity with Jünger’s “aesthetics of horror”. Richard Wolin, “Carl
Schmitt: The Conservative Revolutionary Habitus and the Aesthetics of Horror.”
Political Theory. Vol. 20, Issue 3, 1992, p. 257. On this issue, I rather agree with
Gary Ulmen, who states that Schmitt is “neither promoting war nor enmity
but attempting to answer a very real question raised by the decline of the state”.
G. L. Ulmen, “Return of the Foe.” Telos No 72, Summer 1987, p. 189.
299 See David Pan, “Political Aesthetics: Carl Schmitt on Hamlet.” Telos 72, Summer 1987, p. 156: “Schmitt rejects the establishment of the autonomy of art
in the bourgeois private sphere, because both the autonomy of art and the
bourgeois private sphere provide the haven for ideas to develop independent
of institutional control.”
300 Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 22.
102
mere “lifeless mechanism”. To be sure, such a politicization of aesthetics entails a simultaneous aestheticization of politics. But
aestheticization in Schmitt’s case does not signify “revolutionary
aesthetics of horror”.301 For Schmitt, there exists no aesthetics of
horror, but an aesthetics of form. “The ability to create form” is the
aesthetic faculty par excellence.302 As we will see later, the ability to
create form signifies, in his view, the power to represent, to render the
invisible visible and conceivable through something which is present
in public. This invisible, which in Schmitt’s view is first and foremost an idea, must be something great, eminent, glorious and
honorable, because something “dead, of little value or of no value”
cannot be represented.303 The problem of modern art is that it is not
capable of such representation, primarily because art has become
either snobbish and bohemian “art for art’s sake”, or a concern of
“private producers of art for privately interested art consumers”.304
Schmitt believes that modern art is an art without works, at least
without works in a grand style, “an art without publicity and without representation”.305 The modern artist, “if he represents anything, represents himself ”.306 This being the case, the politicization
of aesthetics would imply art regaining its grandiosity, its public and
representative character – its aura as Benjamin would put it.307 But
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
Wolin, “Carl Schmitt”, p. 253.
Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 22.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 210.
Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 15.
Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 15.
Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 20.
Also for Benjamin the loss of the aura in the “age of mechanical reproduction” was a matter of fact, but contrary to Schmitt he did not long for its
return. Instead, he argued that it is precisely the disappearance of the aura
which provides a source of political emancipation. See Walter Benjamin, “The
Artwork in the Age of Its Technological Reproductibility.” In Walter Benjamin, Selected Writings. Volume 4, 1938–1940. Cambridge: The Belknap
Press of Harvard University Press 2003, pp. 251–270.
103
this is not possible if the public sphere, that is to say, the state has
become a machine: “Once the state becomes a leviathan, it disappears from the world of representations.”308 Machines cannot represent or be represented. Therefore, politics must be aestheticized.
But how to aestheticize politics if art is a private concern, a matter
of self-expression? How to restore the representative character of
a political entity? If we take literally Schmitt’s statement according
to which “a myth arises only in the real war”,309 we could imagine
him to answer: by means of a grandiose war. For a genuine representation, that is to say, a real myth emerges only on the grounds of a
serious situation. Perhaps it is exactly for this reason that Shakespeare
could in Schmitt’s view still capture the mythical. The 16th century England was not yet a leviathan, a machine, conditioned by
a “policed existence”.310 It was still barbaric, in a pre-state condition in which “public peace, security and order” had not yet replaced
the “heroic age” of feudal anarchy.311 It was still in a state in which
the bellum omnium contra omnes had not become totally extinct –
and it is precisely this state whence genuine tragedies and living
myths emerge.
* * *
According to Schmitt, there is no end in view for the political and thus,
serious (ernst), warlike state of affairs. The wish for the eternal peace of
all humanity is utopian and will remain so as long as the category of the
enemy is not destroyed. In Schmitt’s view, such a destruction could not
308 Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 21.
309 Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 160.
310 Carl Schmitt, “On the Barbaric Character of Shakespearean Drama: A Response to Walter Benjamin.” (1956). Telos 72, Summer 1987, p. 146. Translation in Telos includes excurse 2 of Carl Schmitt, Hamlet oder Hecuba.
311 Schmitt, “On the Barbaric Character”, p. 146.
104
be a purely conceptual operation. A pacifist rhetoric cannot abolish the
possibility of war. On the contrary, it presupposes an unusually intense
and inhuman war, “the absolute last war of humanity”.312 It presupposes a war that terminates the very possibility of warfare – a war that
destructs all the possible motives and means of warfare and transforms
the existential condition of humankind into absolute passivity. In
Schmitt’s view, it is only in this condition that something like a universal society of unanimous humanity would emerge. But this is not the
condition of humankind at present. The decisive battle has not yet been
fought and thus the present world is still a world of politics, that is to
say, consisting of a plurality of political entities. It is not a universe, but
a pluriverse: “As long as there is a state there is more than one state”313 –
and as long as there is more than one state, more than one political
entity, nothing can escape the logic of the political.
Schmitt admits that those who speak on behalf of humanity seem
to avoid the logic of the political to the extent that the concept of humanity is a genuinely nonpolitical concept. The concept of humanity
excludes the concept of enemy, because humanity has no enemies – not
at least human enemies: “Humanity as such cannot wage war because it
has no enemy, at least not on this planet.”314 It does not follow, however, that such universal concepts as humanity could not be utilized
politically. Even wars are waged in the name of humanity. But as soon as
one brings up the idea of humanity, arguing against someone, that is, in
312 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 36.
313 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 53. In this sense, Schmitt is a pluralist. His pluralism is not, however, pluralism of men and cultures but a pluralism of political entities. In themselves, these entities need not be plural –
democracy, for instance, is based, according to Schmitt, on a total homogeneity of men and presupposes the “elimination or eradication of heterogeneity”. Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 9. In other words, Schmitt is a pluralist, but
his pluralism presupposes a “correct placing of pluralism”. Schmitt, “Ethic of
State”, p. 204.
314 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 54.
105
a polemical and political sense, the concept loses its universalistic character and becomes a weapon in the hands of particular peoples and
social groups:
When a state fights its political enemy in the name of humanity, it is not a
war for the sake of humanity but a war wherein a particular state seeks to
usurp a universal concept against its military opponent.315
Universalistic concepts can be put, in other words, to intensive political
use. In the case of humanity – that is “no less abused than the name of
God”316 – the consequences of political utilization of a nonpolitical
term can be particularly dangerous. In Schmitt’s view, the enemy is easily expropriated of his human quality. He is declared an outlaw of humanity:
The concept of human only superficially neutralizes differences between
people. In reality, it carries with it a murderous counter-concept with the
most terrible potential for destruction: the inhuman.317
A war against this kind of inhuman enemy – against an “absolute enemy”, as Schmitt calls him – is necessarily unusually intense and inhuman because, “by transcending the limits of the political framework”, it
reduces the enemy into moral and other value categories, turning him
into a monster that must not only be defeated but also “utterly destroyed”.318 The absolute enemy encounters an undivided humanity
that regards him as already always proscribed by God or by nature –
like, for instance, the American Indians, because they supposedly ate
human flesh. However, the final extermination of the Indians was not,
as Schmitt points out, the work of God or of nature but of the Euro315 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 54.
316 Schmitt, “Ethic of State”, p. 205.
317 Carl Schmitt, “A Pan-European Interpretation of Donoso Cortés” (1950).
Telos No 125, Fall 2002, p. 114.
318 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 36.
106
pean peoples. As “civilization progresses and morality rises”, Schmitt
writes, even acts less harmful than devouring human flesh could qualify
as criteria for outlawing somebody: “Maybe one day it will be enough if
a people were unable to pay its debts.”319
The Enemy among Us
What about the Jews? What kind of enemies were they for Schmitt?
Or were they his enemies at all? It is said that Schmitt opposed the
discriminating concept of absolute enemy, because in his opinion
an enemy must be regarded as equal in standing to a friend: “The
enemy is on the same level as I am.”320 If the Jews were Schmitt’s
enemies – and as we shall see they were indeed – were they standing at the same level as him? Did Schmitt, who had warned against
the dangers of reducing the enemy into moral and other non-political categories, degrade the Jews precisely in this way? Or was the
issue about something else?
As far as the Nazis in general are concerned, a degradation of
the Jews was certainly taking place. The basis for this degradation
was not, however, moral or aesthetic but scientific, the biological
theory of race. The Jews were inferior to Germans, because the
biological constitution of the Jewish race was inferior. This, of
course, does not explain why the Nazis considered the Jews as enemies – not at least if we take Schmitt’s own perspective seriously.
According to him, there exists no rational reason, no norm however true, no program however exemplary, no social ideal however
beautiful, no legitimacy nor legality – and no scientific theory –
which could justify the declaration of an enemy and thus men kill-
319 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, pp. 54–55.
320 Carl Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan: Intermediate Commentary on the Concept
of the Political (1963). Telos No 127, Spring 2004, p. 71.
107
ing each other: “If such physical destruction of human life is not
motivated by an existential threat to one’s way of life, then it cannot be justified.”321 For the Nazis, however, a biological theory
became also a political theory, insofar as the biological antithesis of
the Jew and the German accrued immediately a political meaning.
The Jews as the domestic enemy were declared to present an “existential threat” to the way of life of the German people. The Jews
were marked by the Nazis, not merely as biologically but as existentially different and alien. Therefore, it was justified, even from
Schmitt’s perspective, to declare them as the enemy.
Of course, the declaration of an enemy does not perforce lead
to “utter destruction”. At first, the enemy must be absolutized.
Therefore, the Nazis were forced to interpret racial inferiority in
terms of a general worthlessness. This was something that Schmitt
refused to do. On the one hand, he refused to interpret the biological difference in terms of a political antithesis, because he did not
recognize a mere biological difference as a sufficient condition for
a political enemy. On the other hand, Schmitt refused to accept
that even a total worthlessness of the enemy could justify an utter
annihilation. This is not to say that he considered a Jew as an equal.
What is known is that from 1933 onwards, he indeed saw the Jew
as the absolute enemy. But Schmitt’s opinion of Jews was not based
on a presumption of moral baseness, racial inferiority or general
worthlessness. The Jew was the absolute enemy because Schmitt
saw in him an enemy of the political. But why is the enemy of the
political the absolute enemy? In order to answer to this question,
we must take a closer look at the political function of the enemy in
Schmitt’s theory.
For Schmitt, the enemy is not only a criterion for the political, but also the constitutive presupposition for the existence of
friends, that is, for the political identity of a community. A com-
321 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 49.
108
munity emerges in the political sense at the moment it identifies
(erkennen) its enemies. Identification and the subsequent exclusion
of the enemy constitute the community as a political community.
For, at the same moment when the people identify the enemy, they
also identify themselves as the enemy of the enemy. Identification
of the self as the enemy of the enemy – as the other of the other –
is, in turn, the precondition of “existential affinity” and independent identity.322 Only through this state of independence, the community reaches “a more sublime and a more intensified mode of
being” over and against the “natural existence of groups of individuals who just happen to live together”,323 a meaningful political existence over and against an indifferent natural existence.
It should be noted that this theory of the political is purely
formal. It is possible for the enemy to be another race, to speak
another language and to represent another culture, but as we have
already seen, it is insignificant in the final analysis in what respects
he is the “other”. The enemy can be anyone who threatens my way
of life: “An enemy is whoever calls me in question.”324 The precondition for the existence of a political community is that he is identified and excluded. On the other hand, “anyone” – not in principle but concretely – is a figure which cannot occupy the place of
the enemy, since one cannot identify him and therefore, one cannot exclude him either. In fact, the real enemies of Schmitt’s political community are not the enemies denoted by the friend-enemy
distinction, since these latter enemies are the necessary precondition for this community and therefore they are, in a sense, its friends.
The enemy grounds the political community of friends. For this
reason, the real enemies – enemies in the fundamental sense of the
word – of Schmitt’s political community are those “groups of indi322 “The enemy is the gestalt of our self-questioning.” Schmitt, Ex Captivitate
Salus, p. 90.
323 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 210.
324 Schmitt, Glossarium, p. 217.
109
viduals who just happen to live together”, that is, those who fail to
distinguish friends from enemies and who therefore have no political existence of their own. These non-identified groups of individuals are never the constitutive enemies of Schmitt’s political
community. Instead, they are the enemies of the political as such
and, therefore, the most dangerous enemies of all. They are the real
enemies, because only the absolute enemies are, in the final analysis, a real threat to the way of life of friends.
From 1933 onwards, Schmitt conceived the Jews as the enemy of the political, that is, as an absolute enemy, as absolutely
“other and strange”. In his view, the ordinary otherness of the Jews
became manifest already in the existential “condition and attitude”
of the Jewish people. According to him, in contrast to the Germans and other Christian peoples, the condition and the attitude
of the Jewish people are “totally abnormal”.325 Referring to the
cabbalist interpretations of world history as a battle among heathens he writes: “The Jews stand by and watch how the people
of the world kill one another.”326 They refuse to exist politically,
that is to say, to distinguish friends from enemies. They merely
“stand by and watch”. But this ordinary otherness of the Jew is
not the reason why he becomes the absolute enemy for Schmitt.
In fact, the Jew with an identifiable “condition and attitude” is,
in a sense, a friend insofar as the unity of the German and especially of the European Christian spiritual community is constituted by his exclusion.327 The real reason why Schmitt identifies
the absolute enemy in a Jew is, paradoxically, that one cannot identify the Jew.
325 See Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 8.
326 Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 9.
327 This is also a reason why Schmitt emphasizes that “we have to determine as
exactly as possible who is the Jew and who is not”. Carl Schmitt, “Die deutsche
Rechtswissenschaft im Kampf gegen den jüdischen Geist.” Deutsche JuristenZeitung. Heft 20, 15 October 1936, p. 1194.
110
For Schmitt, the unidentifiability of the Jew is based on the
essence of Diaspora Judaism. In his view, this essence is assimilation. The Jew is the other and thereby the enemy, but because one
cannot identify him as the other, he must be the absolute other, the
enemy in its absolute formlessness. For this reason Schmitt writes:
“The real enemy is the assimilated Jew.”328 In other words, Schmitt
believes that the Jew is not the real enemy, that is, the absolute
enemy or the “ultimate enemy”, as Jacques Derrida expresses it,329
on account of his moral, aesthetic or scientific degradation or because his human worth would be denied. He is the absolute enemy
because it is impossible to identify him – because the Jew has no
form of life of his own in the first place. He is like me, he lives like
me, but he cannot be my friend – why? For the reason that Schmitt’s
identity as a Christian is constituted by the fact that the Jew is the
enemy, that the Jew, regardless of his contemporary “virtuosity of
mimicry”, is the murderer of Christ. Here, political theology, which
traces analogies between theological and political concepts, is transformed into a theological politics, which aims at a religious justification, if not of war and killing, then at least of personal hatred.
* * *
Although Schmitt’s political concepts have quite strong religious underpinnings, as we shall see below, this does not imply that he believed
theologians to make good politicians. On the contrary, his severe cri328 Schmitt, Glossarium, p. 199.
329 “It is indeed nothing more and nothing less than the political as such which
would no longer exist without the figure of the enemy. Losing the enemy
would simply be the loss of the political itself.” Therefore, “the ultimate
enemies, the worst of them all, enemies worse than enemies” are – at least
“perhaps”, as Derrida is forced to add because of the methodological and,
perhaps, moral necessities of his approach – “the enemies of the political”.
Jacques Derrida, Politics of Friendship. London: Verso 1997, p. 84.
111
tique of the reappearance of the medieval theological concept of just
war in modernity suggests that he opposes rather than approves the
theologization of politics. The fact that he emphasized the similarity
between the medieval, theologically justified wars of destruction and
the ethically justified military interventions – “police bombings” – in
late modernity does not mean, however, that he would have identified
these epochs as the same. On the contrary, he was careful to distinguish
medieval anarchism from modern nihilism.330 Moreover, even a struggle
between pluralistic powers in the framework of a political unity was
more desirable for Schmitt than a worldwide Babylonian unity: “Anarchistic chaos is better than nihilistic centralization.”331 This is because
such a centralization, a techno-bureaucratic unification of the world,
would be possible only under two conditions: either if the humankind
were to regress into a state of absolute passivity, or if it were subordinated to the overwhelming control by the world police. Schmitt never
believed in the former option. For him, man is and remains a dangerous and dynamic being. As regards the latter alternative, the overwhelming control by the world police, he was not so sure. Therefore, it became
one of the focal points for Schmitt’s critique in the sphere of international law and politics. Schmitt has been accused of being irrational,
but for him it was exactly the idea of such a centralization, bringing
about the unity of the world, that was irrational. It is irrational because
it is meaningless – and it is meaningless because it excludes freedom,
that is, a space for testing and measuring one’s strength freely, a space
for the event of the political.
330 “The European medieval order certainly was very anarchistic in terms of
a smoothly functioning modern factory, but it was not nihilistic, despite all
the wars and feuds, as long as it retained the fundamental unity of order and
localization.” Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 57.
331 Schmitt, Glossarium, p. 165.
112
5. Liberal Pathos
We have come to recognize that the political is the total,
and as a result we know that any decision about whether
something is unpolitical is always a political decision, irrespective of who decides and what reasons are advanced.
Carl Schmitt, Political Theology
In Schmitt’s view, all theories of state and political ideas can be tested
on the basis of their anthropology and thereby classified according to
whether they – consciously or unconsciously – presuppose man to be
good or evil by nature. As for Schmitt’s own view, he asserts that no
theory which holds man to be good is genuinely political: “All genuine
political theories presuppose man to be evil, i. e., by no means an
unproblematic but a ‘dangerous’ and dynamic being.”332 This is the
case because the notion of the political implies, besides the real possibility of the enemy, the existence of power. In Schmitt’s view, without presupposing that man is dangerous there would be no motivation for power.
If man was good and docile in essence, positing power would be superfluous since goodness does not require governance. According to Schmitt,
it is impossible even to legitimize power except by means of the potential threat man presents and the security that power provides: “From a
purely human point of view, the relationship of protection and obedi332 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 61. In holding this view, Schmitt
agrees not only with Hobbes, de Maistre and Donoso Cortés, but of course
also with Machiavelli according to whom, whoever desires to found a state
(republica) and give it laws, must start with assuming “that all men are bad
and ever ready to display their vicious nature, whenever they may find occasion for it”. Niccolo Machiavelli, The Discourses. In Niccolo Machiavelli, The
Prince and The Discourses. New York: The Modern Library 1950, p. 117.
113
ence remains the only explanation for the existence of power.”333 For
these reasons, Schmitt does not consider the theories which presuppose
the goodness of man, political theories. The notion of power belongs to
politics and political theory. Hence, a theory without a notion of power
would signal the disappearance of politics. This is the reason why he
holds that anarchism, whose point of departure is the absolute evilness
of power opposed by the goodness of man, cannot articulate its own
political theory. He passes the same judgment on liberalism.
All theorists of liberalism have certainly not considered man to
be good, but according to Schmitt the doctrine of liberalism, in which
society determines its own order which the state is subordinated to
serve, assumes an unproblematic conception of man. Schmitt acknowledges that liberalism has never been politically radical like anarchism,
but for him it is also evident that liberalism’s neutralizations, depoliticizations and declarations of freedom have a certain political meaning. They are polemically directed against a specific state and its political power on behalf of individual freedom, private property and
economic competition:
All liberal pathos turns against repression and lack of freedom. Every encroachment, every threat to individual freedom and private property and free competition is called repression and is eo ipso something evil.334
Although Schmitt admits that liberalism has not radically rejected politics or the state, he also points out that neither has it advanced a positive
theory of the state nor delineated how the state should be reformed. By
connecting the political with the ethical and subjugating it to economics, it has only managed to neutralize the state, to reduce it to a mere
servant of society.335 According to Schmitt, these operations are under-
333 Carl Schmitt, Gespräch über die Macht und den Zugang zum Machthaber
(1954). Berlin: Akademie Verlag 1994, p. 14.
334 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 71.
335 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 61.
114
standable if one believes that our destiny today is not politics but
economy. But Schmitt denies that. Politics is still our destiny, because
economy has become entirely politicized. Besides, argues Schmitt, it is
a mistake to believe that a society based on economic interaction or
exchange would be “essentially unwarlike”, as Joseph Schumpeter suggests. In Schmitt’s view, only the terminology used in liberal ideology is
unwarlike whereas concrete practice turns out to be less unwarlike. Wars
have perhaps been condemned but sanctions, punitive expeditions, pacifications, protection of treaties, measures to assure peace and the international police remain. In other words, a system based on exchange
does not exclude the possibility of the worst kind of repression and
exploitation. When the exploited attempt to defend themselves in such
a situation, it is obvious that they cannot do so by economic means.
Moreover, those who possess the economic power would interpret every
attempt to change power relations by extra-economic means as violence
and crime.336 Thus, Schmitt concludes that economic power can be as
repressive as political power, but unlike political power, which in
Schmittian terms is based on responsibility and visibility, economic power
tends to conceal itself and to avoid the question of responsibility.
5.1 Total State
In Schmitt’s view, the twentieth-century reaction to the liberal neutralization and depoliticization of all the spheres in the 19th century is a
total politicization. As a result, the nineteenth century neutral state is
replaced with a total state. According to Schmitt, one should not confuse the total state with the absolute state of the 18th century, which
stood above society as a stable and a distinctive force. Moreover, it is not
336 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 77.
115
the universal state, outlined by Hegel and his followers, which stands
above society because of its moral superiority. The total state is first and
foremost a state in which the state (Staat) and society (Gesellschaft) penetrate each other. In contrast to the liberal, non-interventionist state,
there is no sphere in the total state “which should be considered as absolutely neutral in the sense of non-intervention by the state”.337 The
total state intervenes “in all possible matters, in economy and in all the
other spheres of human existence”.338 As a consequence, everything
becomes at least potentially political and formerly social matters become affairs of the state but also, reciprocally, the affairs of the state
themselves become social matters.
According to Schmitt, the appearance of the total state is above all
a consequence of the democratic development in the West. For him, it
is precisely democracy which does away with all the typical distinctions
and depoliticizations characteristic of the liberal 19th century. In democracy, there exists no antithesis between the state and society. The
same applies to the other antitheses of the 19th century – including the
antitheses between religion and politics, culture and politics, economy
and politics, law and politics and so on. In other words, if liberalism
believes in the exclusion of the state-free society from the sphere of the
political, the 20th century democratic movement believes that nothing,
by necessity, remains outside the political. In democracy, all those spheres
of society which were previously identified with the private sphere and
thus, outside the public and the political, are politicized. In Schmitt’s
view, this politicization is a logical consequence of the fundamental principle of democracy, namely of the identity of those who rule and those
who are ruled, of government and people. Out of this identity the total
state is born.
337 Carl Schmitt, Der Hüter der Verfassung (1931). Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr 1931,
p. 79.
338 Carl Schmitt, “Further Development of the Total State in Germany.” In
Simona Draghici (ed.), Carl Schmitt: Four Articles 1931–1938. Washington:
Plutarch Press 1999, p. 22.
116
Schmitt’s notion of total state has been interpreted as an indication of his tendency towards totalitarianism, but he himself thought
of it as a concept that corresponded to the concrete reality of the West.
According to Schmitt, the total state is not a utopia of a state to come
but a description of the twentieth century European democratic state:
“One may dismiss the ‘total state’ with any kind of shouts of outrage
and indignation as barbaric, servile, un-German or un-Christian, but
the thing remains that one does not get rid of it in that way.”339 The
total state exists. Even liberalism cannot remain faithful to its nineteenth century principles, but enters, as a consequence, into a practical alliance with the total state. In Schmitt’s view, this is necessary for
liberalism, insofar as to survive it has to ally itself with those powerful
democratic forces, which dominate all political thinking in modernity.340 According to Schmitt, however, the liberal total state represents
only one of the two existing types of total states, namely the quantitative type. The quantitative total state penetrates all the domains of
human affairs, because it bows to everybody’s wishes, trying to please
everyone, to subsidize everyone and be at the beck and call of conflicting interests all at once: “Its expansion is the result not of its strength
but of its weakness.”341
339 Schmitt, “Further Development”, p. 20.
340 According to Schmitt, every epoch of political thought has conceptions which
are almost self-evident, and in our epoch this evident conception is the superiority of democracy in comparison to other forms of state: “The history of
political and state theory in the nineteenth century could be summarized
with a single phrase: the triumphal march of democracy.” Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 22. For Schmitt, it is democracy rather than communism, as suggested
by Jean-Paul Sartre, which defines the insuperable horizon of our time.
341 Schmitt, “Further Development”, p. 23. Schmitt considered the German state
a quantitative total state: “The present German state is total due to weakness
and lack of resistance, due to its incapacity to resist the onslaught of parties
and organized interests.” Schmitt, “Further Development”, p. 23.
117
The quantitative total state is total because of its weakness, but
there also exists, according to Schmitt, a qualitative total state. This
state is total because of its force.342 It does not try to satisfy all the
demands of society, insofar as this would pave the way to an assimilation of the state power with the interests of social organizations – parties and corporations – leading ultimately to the destruction of state
authority. Rather, like the seventeenth century absolute state, it transcends society by means of a new monopoly on politics. On the one
hand, this makes it possible to distinguish between friend and enemy –
on the other hand, between the political issues and the non-political
ones. However, this kind of depoliticization does not indicate a weakness of the state, insofar as “only a strong state can remove itself from
non-state affairs”.343 In Schmitt’s view, the act of depoliticization is, at
least today, a particularly intense political act.344 If the quantitative total
state does not designate any domain as free from state intervention,
this is only because it can no longer make “any distinctions”. 345 And
if the faculty of distinction and discrimination – judgment – is the political faculty par excellence, as Schmitt at times believes, then the quantitative total state, despite its totality, is not a state at all.
Schmitt sees Mussolini’s Italy as a kind of qualitative total state.346
The fact that the total state arises from an identity of the rulers and the
ruled does not contradict this view. For Schmitt, the fact that Fascism
abolishes elections and despises all elezionismo does not indicate an anti342 Schmitt, “Further Development”, p. 21.
343 Carl Schmitt, “Strong State and Sound Economy” (1932). Appendix in Renato
Cristi, Carl Schmitt and Authoritarian Liberalism. Cardiff: University of Wales
Press 1998, p. 213.
344 Schmitt, “Strong State”, p. 227.
345 Schmitt, “Further Development”, p. 22.
346 “The fascist state will again be a state of ancient probity, with visible leaders
and representatives, and not the façade and antechamber of invisible and
irresponsible rulers and financiers.” Carl Schmitt, “Wesen und Werden des
faschistischen Staates” (1929). In Positionen und Begriffe im Kampf mit Weimar,
Genf, Versailles 1923–1939. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1985, p. 114.
118
democratic but only an anti-liberal attitude. In a specific sense, Schmitt
considers Fascism to be even more democratic than the liberal practice,
because liberalism removes a politically united people (Volk) from the
public sphere, transforming it into a culturally interested public (Publicum). It reduces the political formation of will to the calculation of
privately cast votes.347 In his view, however, the core of democracy is
not to be found in the counting of secretly cast votes in complete isolation but in the will of a people, which is expressed above all in a public
acclamation: “The natural form of the direct manifestation of the people’s
will is the howl of approval or refusal of the assembled crowd, the acclamation.”348 This is why he concludes that dictatorial and Caesaristic
methods are not necessarily antidemocratic. Not only can they evoke
acclamation, but they can also be “a direct expression of democratic
substance and power”.349 They are just anti-liberal. It may be the case
that the fascist state, which as a party state resembles the quantitative
total state,350 does not fulfill all the requirements of democracy or democratic legitimacy. However, Schmitt argues that those societies which
try to combine liberal and democratic principles do not fulfill these
347 Schmitt, “Wesen und Werden”, p. 111. While admitting that universal suffrage is a part of democracy, Schmitt does not consider it the content of
democratic equality but its consequence. Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 227.
348 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, pp. 83–84.
349 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 17.
350 On Schmitt’s critique of the party state (“we do not have a total state but a
plurality of total parties”) see Schmitt, “Further Development”, pp. 23–24.
See also Carl Schmitt, “Das Problem der innerpolitischen Neutralität der
Staates” (1930). In Verfasungsrechtliche Aufsätze aus den Jahren 1924–1954.
Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1958. In contrast to the party state, Schmitt
defends the neutrality of the state. However, the neutrality of Schmitt’s
state – or its matter-of-factness (Sachlichkeit) – is not, as he writes in the
article mentioned second, an apolitical indifference in relation to the social
groups nor a neutrality which mediates conflicts between them, but a specific political attitude. Its aim is the “interest of the whole”. Schmitt, “Das
Problem”, p. 57.
119
requirements either. According to Schmitt, it is precisely this failed reconciliation between the principles of liberalism and democracy in the
practice of modern mass democracy that has paved the way for the crisis
of parliamentary democracy.
5.2 Parliamentarism and democracy
Like every great institution, Schmitt argues in The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy (1924), also parliament presupposes certain fundamental principles and ideas. But Schmitt refuses to subscribe to the familiar
conception according to which parliament is seen above all as a committee of the people. Already the fact that the members of parliament
are independent of the people during the electoral period contradicts
this definition. He also regards as illusory the claim that parliament
should be considered a means for selecting political leaders – suggested
for instance by Max Weber and Hugo Preuss: “Politics, far from being
the concern of an elite, has become the despised business of a rather
dubious class of persons.”351 If we want to discover the authentic principles of parliamentarism, Schmitt argues, we must return to Burke,
Bentham, Guizot and John Stuart Mill. In their writings Schmitt discovers the essence – the “ultimate intellectual foundation” – of parliamentarism. It lies in openness and discussion, that is, in a process of
confrontation of differences and opinions, from which the real political
will results. According to Schmitt, open discussion as the principle of
parliamentarism does not stand only for deliberation and negotiation
since even tyrants negotiate. Open discussion signifies “an exchange of
opinions that is governed by the purpose of persuading one’s opponent
by arguing the truth or justice of something, or allowing oneself to be
351 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 4.
120
persuaded”.352 In Schmitt’s view, the demand for open discussion as the
principle of ruling was born in the struggle against the theory of state
secrets and Machiavellian power politics. The Machiavellian use of power
was countered with a moral ethos, according to which might should
be replaced with right. But in contrast to the absolute rationalism and
the absolute concept of right which characterizes Enlightenment, the
rationality of open discussion and thereby of parliament is relative:
“Neither state power nor any kind of metaphysical conviction is allowed to appear immediately within its sphere.”353 In Schmitt’s view,
the disbelief in absolute truths does not manifest itself only in the
principle of open discussion but also in the principle of division of powers. It is not only opinions which must be balanced with competing
opinions – also institutions must be balanced with competing institutions. According to him, all this depends on a way of thinking that
“creates multiplicity everywhere so that an equilibrium created from
the immanent dynamics of a system of negotiations replaces absolute
unity”.354
Either / or or And
A growing number of liberal thinkers have emphasized the importance of political perspective in social theory. Among these are the
German sociologist Ulrich Beck and the others who have spoken
of so-called “reflexive modernity”.355 According to Beck, in the age
of reflexive modernity, the political cannot be reduced to what he
describes as the binary system of Either-or proposed by Schmitt in
particular (“either Christ-friend or Barabbas-enemy”), but characteristic of the so-called “simple modernity” in general. Instead of
352
353
354
355
Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 5.
Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 46.
Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 40.
See Ulrich Beck, The Reinvention of Politics. Cambridge: Polity Press 1997.
121
the Either-or experience, which is “becoming false”,356 reflexive
modernity and thereby, a reflexive society can be defined in terms
of a so-called And experience: “The ‘age of And’ is destroying and
replacing the ‘age of Either-or’.”357 Beck disagrees with Schmitt’s
view that the And experience, thinking “beyond Either-or”, would
negate the political. According to Beck, it just paves the way for a
new kind of political rationality. At the core of this rationality lies
the concept of ambivalence: “The striking point is the ambivalence.”358 The political does not originate with the recognition of
an enemy, with the antithesis of friend and enemy, but with the
ambivalent position of in-between – in-between “multiple perspectives” and “multiple voices”. If certitude, conviction and commitment to truth constituted the political attitude of simple modernity, the attitude of political man in reflexive modernity is, argues
Beck, that of doubt. In his view, dubito ergo sum is the cogito ergo
sum of the reflexive society.359 This is the case because only the “art
of doubt” enables man to remain in-between and to pursue the
politics of And.
To be sure, it could be argued that the ambivalent position of
in-between presupposes also an exclusive choice between concrete
alternatives. In Beck’s view, however, this is not the case. The art of
doubt “prevents nothing, but makes many things possible”.360 The
reflexive artist of doubt has to doubt even himself as a doubting
being. He must realize that doubts themselves are “thoroughly
doubtful”,361 because self-doubt is the precondition for all doubt.
In Schmitt’s view, this kind of doubtful ambiguity and ambivalence, eternal swinging between alternative choices and ironic sus356
357
358
359
360
361
122
Beck, The Reinvention, p. 2.
Beck, The Reinvention, p. 3.
Beck, The Reinvention, p. 11.
Beck, The Reinvention, p. 162.
Beck, The Reinvention, p. 173.
Beck, The Reinvention, p. 165.
picion – ultimately suspicion of suspicion – would amount to nothing but a peculiarly romantic and thus, an apolitical attitude.362
But in Beck’s view, it is precisely the Either-or experience that brings
politics to an end.
Nonetheless, Beck does not claim naïvely that we would have
surpassed the Either-or experience, emphasizing instead that in reflexive modernity these two ways of experience are present simultaneously. Both of them are included in the process of modernization
inasmuch as modernization must be understood as an “unfinished
and unfinishable dialectic or modernization and counter-modernization”.363 In other words, this simultaneity of modernity and
counter-modernity is not an accident, but “caused by the system and
systematically linked to it”.364 It is true that counter-modernity is
only capable of limiting the “autonomous course of modernity”.365
Nevertheless, it is also itself irrevocably modern: “Nationalism, ethnocentrism, xenophobia and violence are not the expression or eruption of suppressed atavism continuing to be a potent force behind
the façades of civilization.”366 Counter-modernity is a response to
the fundamental experience of uncertainty and ambivalence of And.
Therefore, the autonomous course of modernity actually facilitates
a renaissance of the former. The process of modernization itself
produces counter-modernity, which in turn aims at reinforcing
certitude in contrast to the ambivalences of modernity: “Counter362 In romanticism, “every event is transformed into a fantastic and dreamlike
ambiguity” in which “blending of every imaginable ‘antitheses’ is justified”
and “everything can be substituted for everything else”. To the romantic,
“there are no limits to the possibility of interpretation”. He “ironically avoids
the constraints of objectivity and guards himself against becoming committed to anything”. And so on. Schmitt, Political Romanticism, pp. 72, 76, 77,
105, 138.
363 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 35.
364 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 35.
365 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 67.
366 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 6.
123
modernity transforms doubt into certitude.”367 All this gives the
impression that Beck defines the relationship between the reflexive
modernity and counter-modernity after all in terms of opposition,
or even antithesis, characteristic to the Schmittian notion of the
political. But Beck rejects this implication. The opposition between
reflexive modernity and counter-modernity is not a binary antagonism between friend and enemy. In a thoroughly reflexive society,
there exists no such antagonism:
A thoroughly doubtful society, beset by productive self-doubt, and therefore incapable of truth, strictly speaking, cannot develop or uphold any
construction of an enemy.368
In other words, the representatives of counter-modernity cannot
be political enemies, because Beck recognizes very well that this
would entail a return to the logic of Either-or of simple modernity.
Therefore, Beck locates the representatives of counter-modernity
elsewhere.
According to Schmitt, it was characteristic for the theorists of
the Enlightenment to seek and find universal morality as a neutral
solution to the “evil” politics of the Either-or. Also Beck pursues
neutralization, but he goes further than the Enlightenment moralists. Admittedly, he defines the opposition between reflexive modernity and counter-modernity in terms of different attitudes and
worldviews, that is to say, in terms of ethics. In his view, there
exists, on the one hand, an attitude and ethics characterizing a proponent of reflexive modernity. His attitude can be described as
thoroughly liberal. He favors reasonable discussion to violence and
action, tolerates different ways of life, supports human rights and
the equality of the sexes, favors peace to war, and so on. It is true
that he also doubts, but his doubt is “kind and deeply human”,369
367 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 63.
368 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 169.
369 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 171.
124
because he first and foremost doubts all dogmatism, all “blackwhite thinking”. On the other hand, there exists an attitude and
ethics belonging to a proponent of counter-modernity. He is the
one who still believes in certitudes and absolute truths. He constructs these certitudes and absolutes. Inasmuch as he has been able
to construct these certitudes and absolutes, he has no reason for
discussion. Therefore, he favors violence and action. He “floats on
action, washing away the questions in the stream of action”.370 His
action, in turn, is not based on reason but on emotion, on “the
orphaned and dried-up emotions” like hate, love, fear and mistrust.371 Hence, the proponent of counter-modernity is an emotive person, who absorbs questions into violent action. But what
does he act for? In Beck’s view, he acts for his own emotive truth
and dogma, for his sacred beliefs including tradition, nature, religion, nationhood, the distinction between ourselves and strangers,
and so on. Out of this sanctification “nationalism, ethnocentrism,
xenophobia and violence” are born.372
The above notwithstanding, Beck refuses to cling to universal morality which would transform the proponent of countermodernity to an “evil” person. But if the counter-modernist is not
a political enemy nor an “evil” person, then who is he? Presumably,
his interests are diametrically opposed to those of the liberal reflexive individual. Therefore, he cannot be a like-minded peer. Nor
can he be an “opposing doubter”, as Beck calls the political opponent in a reflexive society, because believing in certainties, he does
not doubt. The only alternative left, it seems to me, is to suppose
that Beck’s proponent of counter-modernity suffers from a kind of
mental disability. He is a person who lacks the mental stength to
withstand the modern ambivalence of And. Beck acknowledges
that the growing ambivalence can lead to “intolerable conditions”
370 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 65.
371 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 65.
372 Beck, The Reinvention, pp. 6, 66.
125
that disturb everybody. In the case of the proponent of countermodernity, however, this disturbance is itself intolerable, because
he does not react to the intolerable conditions by adopting a skeptical attitude but by resorting to emotive action and violence.
How then, in Beck’s view, must the proponent of reflexive
modernity relate to his counter-modern counterpart? Insofar as he
does not regard him as a political enemy but as a disturbed person,
his task is to outline acceptable certainties and limits for him.373 In
other words, his task seems to be inventing therapeutic means capable of holding in check the worst psycho-pathological effects –
ethnocentrism, xenophobia, fundamentalism, violence – caused by
the inevitable and irrevocable process of modernization. Hence,
even if Beck attempts to rethink politics beyond friend and enemy
distinctions, the way in which he neutralizes the opponent, treating him as if he was a psycho-pathological case, points to an apolitical way of thinking rather than to a “reinvention” of politics. In
the final analysis, his “And experience” seems to signify nothing
more than a peculiar way of finding Aufhebung – psychological in
this case – and thus reducing politics to insignificance. But, as we
can see today, a new antithesis has indeed emerged, the antithesis
between the Either-or or And.
* * *
For Schmitt, Ulrich Beck’s “thoroughly doubtful” society of reflexive
modernity would probably represent a society in which the premises of
parliamentarism have been transformed into premises of the whole society. The relative rationality of doubt incapable of truth has displaced
everywhere the absolute rationality of absolute truths – open discussion has displaced emotive convictions and commitments. In Schmitt’s
view, however, one should doubt the idea of the “thoroughly doubtful”
373 Beck, The Reinvention, p. 6.
126
society of openly discussing doubters, especially because the concrete
practice of modern mass society and mass democracy seem to function
in a completely different manner. This practice has made the premises
of parliamentarism and simultaneously, the whole idea of argumentative discussion an “empty formality”:
Many norms of contemporary parliamentary law, above all provisions concerning the independence of representatives and the openness of sessions,
function as a result like a superfluous decoration, useless and even embarrassing, as though someone had painted the radiator of a modern central heating
system with red flames in order to give it the appearance of a blazing fire.374
The important political and economic decisions on which the fate of
mankind rests, no longer result from balancing opinions in a public
debate but from other instances altogether:
Small and exclusive committees of parties or of party coalitions make their
decisions behind closed doors, and what representatives of the big capitalist
interest groups agree to in the smallest committees is more important for the
fate of millions of people, perhaps, than any political decision.375
Parties do not approach each other as groups exchanging opinions in
the open arena, but as social and economic power-groups calculating
their mutual interests and opportunities for power. It is no longer a
question of persuading one’s opponent of the truth or justice of one’s
opinion but rather of winning the majority in order to rule. The masses
are in turn won over through a propaganda apparatus which relies on
an appeal to immediate interests and passions for maximum effect. The
way of argumentation characteristic of real discussion ceases and becomes replaced by a conscious reckoning of interests and chances for
power in party negotiations, while the non-argumentative slogan is addressed to the masses.376 In Schmitt’s view, all this contradicts the prin374 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 6.
375 Schmitt, The Crisis, pp. 49–50.
376 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 6.
127
ciples of parliamentarism but it does not necessarily contradict the principles of democracy. The crisis of parliamentary democracy is therefore
a crisis of parliamentarism, not a crisis of democracy.
Schmitt holds that parliamentarism – ruling by discussion – belongs to the world of liberal ideas. But it does not necessarily belong to
democracy. In a democracy, an “institution based on discussion by independent representatives has no autonomous justification for its existence”.377 He admits that at first democracy appeared in an obvious alliance, even identity, with liberalism. However, it has been allied with
almost all political movements in the 20th century – for instance, in
social democracy it was merged with socialism. In Schmitt’s view, democracy can in fact be absolutist as well as liberal, centralized as well as
decentralized, progressive as well as reactionary. Nevertheless, it is not a
form without substance since the essence of democracy lies, as mentioned above, in the identity of governing and the governed. Schmitt’s
point of reference here is, as almost always when he attempts to define
democracy, Jean Jacques Rousseau. It was precisely Rousseau who established that in a democracy, the sovereign and the subject are “identical correlatives”.378 According to Schmitt, it is possible to distinguish a
whole series of identities:
All democratic arguments rest logically on a series of identities. In this series
belong the identity of governing and governed or sovereign and subject, the
identity of the subject and the object of state authority, the identity of the
people with their representatives in parliament, the identity of the state and
the current voting population, the identity of the state and law, and finally
the identity of the quantitative (the numerical majority or unanimity) and
the qualitative (the justice of the laws).379
In Schmitt’s view, the democratic identity of those who rule and those
who are ruled arises from the democratic principle of homogeneity. In
377 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 15.
378 Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 138.
379 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 26.
128
contrast to the liberal idea of multiplicity, democracy presupposes unity:
“Democracy requires first homogeneity and second – if the need arises –
elimination or eradication of heterogeneity.”380 The homogeneity of
the people corresponds in turn to the democratic concept of equality,
that is to say, to the equality of equals. Therefore, the question of equality is not one of abstract, “logical-arithmetical games” for Schmitt. Rather,
it concerns the substance of equality. It can be found in certain physical
and moral qualities, for example, in civic virtue, in arête, the classical
democracy of vertus, and so on. What matters, however, is that such a
substantial foundation of equality exists – equality which contains a
possibility of inequality:
One has to say that a democracy – because inequality always belongs to equality
– can exclude on part of those governed without ceasing to be a democracy,
that until now people who in some way were completely or partially without
rights and who were restricted from the exercise of political power, let them
be called barbarians, uncivilized, atheists, aristocrats, counterrevolutionaries,
or even slaves, have belonged to a democracy.381
This equality can be racial or ethical, religious or national but above all
it is restricted and restrictive for Schmitt: “Equality without the possibility of inequality, equality which it is impossible to lose, is worthless
and inconsequential.”382 In his view, absolute human equality is conceptually and practically meaningless. It is an empty formality, an equality
without substance. Besides, in the condition of a superficial political
equality of man, another sphere – the economic for instance – in which
substantial inequalities prevail will dominate politics, transforming the
economic inequalities into political ones. According to Schmitt, the
equality of all persons as persons belongs to the world-view of liberalism, not that of democracy. Schmitt acknowledges, as mentioned above,
that democracy first allied itself with liberalism and that even Rousseau,
380 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 9.
381 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 10.
382 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 227.
129
whose Social Contract he sees as one of the most coherent presentations
of democratic principles, starts with a concept of contract characteristic
of liberalism. But in Schmitt’s view, it is liberal only on the surface to
the extent that the state’s legitimacy is justified by a free contract but the
essential content refers to the democratic principle of identity and thus
of equality as homogeneity. This becomes manifest especially in the
concept of general will (volonté générale), which does not tolerate differences, not even those of opinion. According to Rousseau, those opinions and votes which differ from the general will, in other words from
the “voice of majority”, are simply wrong.383 Thus, a citizen who disobeys the majority decision cannot be a citizen and an equal in this
sense. He remains, as Rousseau writes, a “foreigner among the citizens”.384
In Schmitt’s view, however, Rousseau did not realize that his point
of departure, namely the contract, contradicted the concept of homogenous general will: “Where it exists a contract is meaningless. Where it
does not exist, a contract does not help.”385 In this issue Schmitt sides
with Pufendorf according to whom a mutual contract is an impossibility in a democracy, because not only would such a contract presuppose
a difference between those who command and those who obey, but it
would also imply a limitation of state power. In a democracy, there is no
such difference, which also implies that the state power is unlimited.386
383 “When the opinion contrary to my own prevails, this proves only that I have
made a mistake, and that what I believed to be the general will was not so.”
Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 153.
384 Rousseau, The Social Contract, p. 153.
385 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 14.
386 See Samuel Pufendorf, Le Droit de la nature et des Gens. Paris: E. & J. R.
Hourneisen 1793, book VII, chap. VI, § 8. Pufendorf thought that the same
person cannot both command and obey at the same time but Rousseau, as is
known, posits a divided person at the foundation of his state. The contract is
still possible but this time it takes place within the person himself: the citizen
as a subject obeys the citizen as sovereign, who protects him as a person (human
being). Commanding and obeying do not disappear, but each commands and
“obeys no one but himself ”. See Rousseau, The Social Contract, pp. 59–62.
130
The sovereign’s will becomes immediately the law in a democracy – and
insofar as the people is the sovereign, its power is without limits: lex est
quod populus jussit.387 Schmitt understands this to entail that all efforts
to limit the expressions of this will, such as the division of power, are
undemocratic.388 In a democracy, people’s will is simultaneously the
“supreme judge” and the “supreme legislator”.389
Yet, according to Schmitt, as already mentioned, a people does not
express its will necessarily by means of an individual and secret ballot.
For him, the idea that the people can express its will only when each
citizen votes in deepest secrecy and complete isolation is not a democratic but, again, a liberal idea. It transforms a uniquely “democratic
and political” citizen into a private man.
The individual and secret ballot transforms a citizen – this uniquely democratic and political figure – into a private man of the private sphere, who by
voting expresses only his individual opinion.390
According to Schmitt, the individual and secret ballot which relieves a
person from all responsibility contradicts the whole concept of the people:
“The people exists only in the sphere of publicity.”391 The counting of
votes does not express a public opinion,392 but only the opinion of
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 258.
Schmitt, The Crisis, pp. 14–15.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 274.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 245.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 243. Even Montesquieu, whose division of power
was incomprehensible to Schmitt, considered the principle of publicity and
democracy inseparable from each other: “When the people cast votes, their
votes should no doubt be public; and this should be regarded as a fundamental law of democracy.” Montesquieu, The Spirit of the Laws. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1989, p. 14.
392 Schmitt defines democracy as a “domination of public opinion” and emphasizes that the political nature of democracy is based on the primacy of the
public over the private sphere. Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, pp. 246–255.
387
388
389
390
391
131
millions of private individuals.393 Besides, Schmitt adds that one person can express the people’s will as well as a group of secretly elected
parliamentary representatives. In his view, this is the case because the
democratic principle of identity can and must be defined in terms of
identification, insofar as the absolute identity and homogeneity of a
people are impossible. In other words, democratic equality rests on a
recognition of identity, not on actual reality: “A distance always remains
between real equality and the result of identification.”394 This being the
case, the decisive question in a democracy concerns the formation of
the people’s will, that is to say, how can those who rule represent their
will as the will of those who are ruled? For Schmitt, “everything depends on how the will of the people is formed”.395 In the concrete life of
a democracy, the most crucial question is therefore to establish who
governs the propaganda machinery, that is to say, the “methods of psychotechnical manipulation of the great masses” with which the will of the
people is to be constructed.396 According to Schmitt, those who have
control over this machinery – the military, the police force, the press,
the party organizations, the schools and so on – form a new aristocracy.
However, the formation of such an aristocracy does not necessarily obliterate democracy. Rather, this phenomenon simply demonstrates that
even dictatorship is not antithetical to democracy. Instead, Schmitt believes that democracy can well dispense with parliamentarism and its
principles of openness and discussion.
393 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, pp. 245–246. According to Schmitt, the origin of
this privatization has to be sought in religion, since the rise of Protestantism
paved the way for the decline of the political (representative) function of the
Church and for the rise of a private – immediate – relationship with God: “If
religion is a private matter, it also follows that privacy is revered.” Schmitt,
Roman Catholicism, p. 28.
394 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 27.
395 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 27
396 Schmitt, The Crisis, pp. 28–29.
132
Between Identity and Representation
For Schmitt, the crisis of parliamentary democracy is not only a
crisis of parliamentary principles. It is also a crisis of the modern
state. The reason for this is that Schmitt holds every political entity
– at the moment the state – to be based on representation: “There is
no state without representation”, writes Schmitt in his magnum
opus of the Weimar period, Vefassungslehre (1928).397 But the modern democratic state is losing its power to represent. This is partly
due to the democratic principles of identity and homogeneity. They
contradict the idea of representation, because representation implies an element of transcendence which Schmitt always interprets
to mean “authority from above”.398 In the final analysis, however,
this is not dangerous to the existence of the state, insofar as one
realizes that concrete masses are always heterogeneous and that
“nowhere at any point of history has there existed a total and perfect identity of a people present to itself as a political unity”.399
According to Schmitt, every effort to realize immediate democracy
has to take this limitation into consideration, which is also the
reason why he claims that in the concrete life of the democratic
state the principle of identity must be replaced with that of identification. The democratic principle of identity is realized when the
masses identify themselves with a certain representation. Therefore, regarding the principle of representation, the representative
practice of the modern parliamentary system is, according to
Schmitt, more fateful than the democratic principle of identity.
Why, then, are the modern parliamentary system and the representative democracy practiced by it, not representative according
to Schmitt? Firstly, he argues that representation belongs to the
public sphere and has nothing to do with secret ballots, mandates,
397 Schmitt, Verfassunglehre, pp. 206–207, 214.
398 Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 27.
399 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 207.
133
or other equivalent concepts, which originally belonged to the sphere
of private law: “To represent signifies rendering the invisible visible
and conceivable through something which is present in public.”400
Secondly, representation is “something existential” in contrast to the
normative processes and procedures of contemporary parliamentary practice and thought.401 And thirdly, everything that a modern
representative represents is linked with party programs, material
interests and a quantitative notion of the electorate. Schmitt, on the
contrary, holds that instead of something partial, material and quantitative, real representation presupposes something comprehensive,
ideal and qualitative: “The political entity is represented as a
whole.”402 In fact, he does not call the representation of interests
representation – Repräsentation – at all, but prefers to use the term
Vertretung. However, Schmitt does not claim that this “inauthentic”
representation would necessarily destroy democracy. A democracy
can dispense with representation, but it would lose its status as a
democratic state, because there is no state without representation.
In Schmitt’s view, it is possible to classify every political entity
by determining the extent to which it is dominated by the idea of
identity on the one hand and its opposite, the idea of representation, on the other. The form of government (Staatsformen) based on
absolute identity is democracy – “all democratic thinking is erected
on the idea of immanence”403 – whereas the form of government
based on absolute representation is monarchy. But Schmitt holds
400 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 209.
401 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 210.
402 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, pp. 208–216. In The Roman Catholicism and Political Form Schmitt had argued that today the only truly representative institution left is not the state but the Roman Church. That which is represented
by the Church is, of course, Jesus Christ, whose “revolutionary” idea is thus
given a visible and stable form and institution. See Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, pp. 18–26.
403 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 237.
134
that these absolute forms exist only in principle, since every concrete form of government, and thereby of state, presupposes aspects
from both of them. In this sense, Schmitt returns to the Platonic
idea according to which there are two basic forms of government,
kingship and democracy, from which all other forms are derived. In
Plato’s view, in every well-ruled state in which “freedom, accordance and prudence” prevail, there are elements from both of
them.404 But Schmitt goes further, for according to him, there does
not exist a single state without elements from both of these basic
forms. For him, pure democracy without any monarchical elements
– without representation – is as impossible as pure monarchy without any democratic elements, in other words, without identity.
It has been claimed that Schmitt introduced the radical democratic concept of the people into the debate about the state and the
constitution of the Weimar republic.405 In a sense, this is true. For
him, the people is the “supreme judge” and the “supreme legislator”
in a democracy. In a democracy, only the people may decide on the
type and the form of its political organization and this organization
is legitimate only if based on the immediate will of the people. In
itself, however, the people has no form or organization. It is the
unformed and unorganized origin of all forms and organizations,
the unrepresented foundation of all representations. The people is
the source of all power, which manifests itself always in new forms, and
produces always new forms and organizations out of itself, but which
never submits its political existence to a final form.406
404 Plato, Laws. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Company 1997, 693d–e.
405 See for instance Andreas Kalyvas, “Carl Schmitt and the Three Moments of
Democracy.” Cardozo Law Review. Vol. 21: 1597, 2000, pp. 1525–1565. The
problem in Kalyvas’ analysis is that he identifies Schmitt’s concept of Volk with
that of multitude. In reality, Volk and multitude are, as we will see below,
opposites in Schmitt’s theory. Where Volk appears, multitude disappears.
406 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 79.
135
In a word, the people is the constituent power (verfassunggebende
Gewalt) of the nation. The idea of the people as the constituent
power of the nation and the anarchistic arkhe of the state is not new.
It can be traced back to the conceptual distinction between pouvoir
constituant and pouvoir constitué first made by a French theorist of
the Revolution, Emmanuel Sieyès. Like Schmitt, Sieyès attributes
constituent power to the people and more explicitly, to the nation,
whose will is “the origin of all legality”. According to him, constituent power is power which is not defined by a constitution but which
is presupposed by it.407 But we must notice that Schmitt uses Sieyès’
distinction for his own purposes, specifically abolishing limits that
Sieyès sets to constituent power. According to the latter, constituent
power is not limitless but limited by natural law, which stands “prior
to and above the nation”.408 For Schmitt, nothing stands prior to
and above the constituent power of the people. It precedes natural
law and transcends it as it “precedes the constitution and is above
it”.409 As a matter of fact, Schmitt defines the concept of the constituent power of the people in Verfassungslehre in the same way as
he defined sovereignty in Political Theology. From the point of view
of constitution, it emanates from nothingness. In Political Theology
Schmitt had refused to recognize the people as sovereign because
the decisionist and personalistic elements of the concept of sovereignty were thus lost. In Verfassungslehre, however, he assigns all the
properties of sovereignty precisely to the people. Like the sovereign,
407 In Schmitt’s view an analogical distinction can be found in metaphysics in
the work of Baruch Spinoza, whose thought is based on the distinction between creative nature (natura naturans), consisting of the attributes of substance expressing God, and created nature (natura naturata), consisting of
the modi of God’s attributes. See Spinoza, Ethics, pp. 25–26. However, the
analogy is only apparent, because Schmitt’s constituent power is transcendent in relation to constituted power, whilst the relationship between natura
naturans and natura naturata is absolutely immanent.
408 Emmanuel Sieyès, Qu’est-ce que le tiers-état. Paris: Flammarion 1988, chap. 5.
409 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 238.
136
the people belongs to a constitution as its constituent instance, but
cannot be included in it. The people is the founding rupture of the
constitution. Its will founds the constitution of the state, but the
constitution does not exhaust the people. The people remains “outside and above” it. In Schmitt’s view, the ground of the Weimar
Constitution, for instance, cannot be found in any article of the
constitutional law. It is found in the political existence and will of
the German people. The Weimar constitution and thereby the form
of government of the German democratic state is an “existential
total-decision” of the German people.
Schmitt argues, however, that there is no state without representation and that the people itself does not have the power of
representation. The radicalism of Schmitt’s radical theory of democracy ends here. The people is merely the instance of the creation (Herstellung) of the state, not the instance of its exposition
(Darstellung). It creates but does not sustain the political form, the
state: “The procedures and methods of the creation of the political
entity are not sufficient to establish a form of government.”410 The
existence of the state presupposes a power, which shapes the political
decision of the people. According to Schmitt, this power belongs to
the political authority. Inasmuch as the form contains above all the
“exposition of the political entity”,411 to shape signifies representation. The political authority is therefore the instance of representation. It brings a fragment of transcendence into the immanence of
identity: “No democratic state can renounce absolutely all representation.”412 But what does this authority represent? It represents an
idea, that is, an ethical foundation of the state.413 Being present in
public, it renders the invisible visible and conceivable through its
410
411
412
413
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 207.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 207.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, pp. 276–277.
In Roman Catholicism and Political Form Schmitt writes: “To the political
belongs the idea, because there is no politics without authority and no authority
without an ethos of belief.” Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 17.
137
own existence. The political authority is in turn possessed by those
who govern. Only they can expose the ethical foundation of the state
through representation: “In every state there must be those who can
say: L’Etat c’est nous.”414 In principle, the people is identical with the
state in a democracy, but in Schmitt’s view this is not the case in
practice. The people in its totality is not the state because it cannot
govern, or even administrate. After the people has decided on the
type and form of constitution, it can only say yes or no to a question
posed to it by those who have political authority. Schmitt believes
that, in normal political conditions, the only mode of expression for
the immediate will of the people is the acclamation.415 In acclamation the people expresses its accord or discord through a simple
exclamation: crying “viva!” or “down with it”, applauding a chief or
a proposal, shouting long live the King or somebody else – or refusing to acclaim, murmuring or staying quiet.416
It seems to me, however, that in Schmitt’s theory even the
people as the constituent power would disappear without the act
of representation. Although Schmitt repeatedly emphasizes that
the people’s will is always a direct will and therefore impossible to
represent, his theory of the state in Verfassungslehre nevertheless seems
to contradict this definition. This is the case since in Schmitt’s view
“the natural presence of groups of individuals who just happen to
live together” does not constitute a people. The existence of a people
presupposes a “more sublime and more intensive mode of being”.417
It presupposes a political mode of being, which means that a people
must become conscious of its political identity. As already said, the
people becomes conscious of this identity at the moment it identifies its enemy.418 But concrete masses – “individuals who just hap414
415
416
417
418
138
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 207.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 83.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, pp. 243–244.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 210.
Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 247.
pen to live together” – are always heterogeneous: “In concreto the
masses are sociologically and psychologically heterogeneous.”419
For this reason, they are not, as such, capable of identifying a common enemy. Therefore, Schmitt replaces the principle of identity
with that of identification. The people becomes conscious of a common enemy by identifying itself with a representation that is given to
it from above. For Schmitt, it is precisely the representation, which
“produces a concrete manifestation of a sublime mode of being”.420
Only at that instance does the will of the people become the constituent will of the nation. Otherwise, the people remains in its
natural and non-political condition.
In other words, the revolutionary force of an unorganized and
unrepresented people seems to me only virtual. In a democracy,
the people is the supreme judge and the supreme legislator, but in
order to become a people, natural groups of individuals must be
elevated to a political existence. This presupposes representation,
that is to say, authority from above. It is precisely for this reason
that ultimately Schmitt’s sovereignty of the people in Verfassungslehre
does not coincide with the concept of the sovereign in Political
Theology. Although the sovereign, who decides on the state of exception, occupies in Political Theology the same metaphysical place
(“outside and above”) as the people in Verfassungslehre, only the
people needs to be represented. Only the act of representation brings
about the political will of the people. In the political reality of
Weimar Germany, the one who in Schmitt’s view represented the
people was in fact the one who also decided on the state of exception, the Reichspräsident. Only the Reichspräsident had the possibility to represent “the political total will of the German nation”.421
Only the Reichspräsident had the capacity for myth.
419 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 25.
420 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 210.
421 Schmitt, Der Hüter der Verfassung, p. 159.
139
5.3 Dictatorship and myth
In Schmitt’s view, the 19th century experienced the emergence of two
mediating ideas from the rift between the principles of parliamentarism
and the real fate of the people: democracy and dictatorship. Both democracy and dictatorship opposed bourgeois liberalism and parliamentarism.
Discussing, balancing, and engaging in public life – all this stood in the
way of these two adversaries, who opposed them with such force that the
very idea of a mediating discussion appeared to be only an interim between bloody battles: “Both opponents answered with a destruction of
balance, with an immediacy and absolute certainty – with dictatorship.”422
The counterrevolutionaries, such as Donoso Cortés, had defined this
dictatorship in traditional terms as the diametrical opposite of democracy. The socialist revolutionaries sought instead to combine these principles. Out of this combination emerged the Marxist idea of the revolutionary dictatorship of the proletariat. Schmitt considers this to be one
of the secrets of Marxism’s political success.
However, Schmitt distinguishes two theoretical orientations within
Marxism. There is a Marxism which upholds a natural-scientific model
of exactness for its theory, believing in the “iron necessity” of the laws of
historical materialism. According to Schmitt, this vulgar form of Marxism cannot provide a foundation for revolution or dictatorship – or any
other political institution or authority. It can only give rise to a technocracy. But there is also a polemical and political side to the Marxist theory:
The philosophically and metaphysically fascinating aspect of Marxist historical philosophy and sociology is not its similarity to natural science, but the
way that Marx retains the concept of a dialectical development of human
history and observes this development as a concrete, unique antithetical process, producing itself through an immanent, organic power.423
422 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 52.
423 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 54.
140
In Schmitt’s view, without the consciousness of this development, without the true knowledge of social and historical reality, Marxist revolution would amount to inventing new machines instead of political action. The political strength of Marxist thought lies here, in this
consciousness. But also this polemical and political side of Marxism has
a weakness. Its weakness consists in the fact that the Marxist consciousness is dependent upon an intellectual construction, in other words,
upon the Hegelian philosophy of history.
According to Schmitt, the Hegelian philosophy of history is incompatible with the ideas of revolution and dictatorship. It fails to grasp
a genuinely revolutionary and dictatorial moment because it subordinates them to the “continual series of development”. In Schmitt’s view,
the essence of a true dictatorship as well as of revolution lies in immediate interruption, whereas the unending process of the Hegelian world
spirit absorbs all interruptions and disjunctions into itself as immanent
negations: “The essential point is that an exception never comes from
outside into the immanence of development.”424 The only possible dictatorship which this Hegelian logic can comprehend is therefore the old
Enlightenment idea of educational tyranny. According to Schmitt, however, Marx introduces a new element into the picture. He radically simplifies and thereby intensifies the process of dialectical development:
What was new and fascinating in The Communist Manifesto was the systematic concentration of class struggle into a single, final struggle of human
history, into the dialectical peak of tension between bourgeoisie and proletariat.425
Herein lies the originality of Marx as a political thinker, as Schmitt
reads him, and not in his program of “scientific socialism”. Humanity is
reduced to the friend and the enemy, to the proletariat and the bourgeoisie. This is the critical moment in the dialectical process. One problem remains, however. According to Marx, as Schmitt reads him, the
424 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 56.
425 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 59.
141
bourgeois epoch comes to its historical end at the moment in which the
essence of the bourgeois is disclosed in human consciousness.426 But to
the extent that it is grasped fully in human consciousness, the epoch
must already have ended because a historical dialectic knows only the
past positively, but the future merely in the negative.427 In other words,
had Marx succeeded in fully comprehending the bourgeoisie, it would
have proved that the era of bourgeoisie was already over. But Marx could
not become fully conscious of the bourgeoisie, because a full consciousness of the last hour of the bourgeoisie would have presupposed that its
epoch had already come to its end: “The tautology of Hegelian as well
as of Marxist certainty moves in such circles.”428
The above notwithstanding, Schmitt notes that contemporary
Marxism includes forces, which emphatically dismiss these rationalist
arguments and affirm the antithesis of the proletariat and the bourgeoisie as the fundamental point of departure: “The bourgeois is not to be
educated, but eliminated.”429 Here it is no longer a question of evolving consciousness, but of a “real and bloody struggle” between concrete
groups of people. Schmitt recognizes that Marx’s rationalist philosophy
offered an intellectual instrument for this “real and bloody struggle”,
but the path to action was not opened until the intellectual complexities inherent in the dialectical development had been pushed aside in
favor of the immediate necessities of political reality. In Schmitt’s view,
426 For this reason, argues Schmitt, Marx continued to look for positive determinations of the bourgeoisie. The bourgeoisie must be properly known, because
a full consciousness is the criterion for the beginning of a new stage of development. It is also for this reason, and not because he would have been trapped
in a classical and therefore bourgeois political economy, that Marx had to
concentrate his analysis on economy. Because the essence of the bourgeoisie
lies in the economic, “Marx has to follow it into the economic realm in order
to understand it fully and in its essence”. Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 62.
427 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 61.
428 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 63.
429 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 63.
142
the concrete action of the Bolshevist regime is a proof of this. The anarchists, for instance, were destroyed although they hardly represented
the Marxian bourgeoisie. In fact, Schmitt argues that Marxism advanced
on the Russian soil almost without restraint, because the proletarian
thought there was free of all the constructions of the Western European
tradition and from all “the moral and educational notions with which
Marx and Engels themselves still quite obviously lived”.430 But what,
then, was the essence of the proletarian thought in Russia? According to
Schmitt, it was a “theory of the direct use of force”.431 This theory is no
longer a rationalist construction because it is based more or less consciously on an irrational foundation. Instinct and intuition replace rational development. The unconscious displaces consciousness.
Schmitt points out that already Bakunin had opposed Marx and
Engels because of the “abstract method” by through which they approached revolution – or as Bakunin himself writes:
In conformity to their [German] nature, they proceeded not from life to
thought but from thought to life. But anyone who takes abstract thought as
his starting point will never make it to life, for there is no road leading from
metaphysics to life.432
Anyone who relies on abstraction, Bakunin continues, will die of it.
The force of his criticism, however, is not directed only at Marx and
Engels but at all those “knights of science and thought”, metaphysicians
as well as positivists, who attempt to prescribe the laws of life with these
means. Science has no right to rule since it is not life, it does not create
anything and it can only conceive the general and the abstract, thereby
sacrificing the singular fullness of life at the altar of abstractions. Life
engenders abstract reflections, but these reflections can never engender
430 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 66.
431 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 64.
432 Mikhail Bakunin, Statism and Anarchy. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press 1990, p. 133.
143
life: “Woe to mankind if thought ever became the source and sole guide
of life.”433 Furthermore, science is for the privileged few, whereas the
people remain indifferent to it. In addition to the primacy of the abstract and the general, the rule of science entails the rule of a small
minority of scientists: “If science is to prescribe the laws of life, then the
great majority of mankind, millions of people, must be governed by
one or two hundred scholars.”434 For these reasons, the Marxist dictatorship of the proletariat is, in Bakunin’s view, nothing but a highly
despotic domination of the masses by a new and small aristocracy of
scholars. Although Bakunin admits that the Marxists envision a people’s
state in which the proletariat will be raised to the level of a ruling class,
he asks whom it will rule, answering the question himself: “There must
be yet another proletariat which will be subjected to this new rule, this
new state.”435 For Bakunin, every state, even a people’s state, implies
slavery. If there is a state, there will also be those who are ruled, there
will be slaves. He acknowledges that according to Marxists the dictatorship of the proletariat will be temporary and brief, only an interim on
the way towards the authentic liberation of the people. But he does not
underwrite this idea either. If the ultimate aim is liberty, why must people
be enslaved in the first place?436 Therefore, instead of a dictatorship of
the proletariat or any other form of government and state, Bakunin
speaks of behalf of masses and their instincts, their “everyday needs and
their conscious and unconscious desires”:
We believe that the people can be happy and free only when they create their
own life, organizing themselves from below upward by means of independent and completely free associations, subject to no official tutelage but open
to the free and diverse influence of individuals and parties.437
433
434
435
436
437
144
Bakunin, Statism and Anarchy, p. 135.
Bakunin, Statism and Anarchy, p. 134.
Bakunin, Statism and Anarchy, p. 177.
Bakunin, Statism and Anarchy, p. 179.
Bakunin, Statism and Anarchy, p. 136.
In Schmitt’s view, however, it was not until Georges Sorel’s syndicalism
that the theory of direct action was crystallized, because only then was it
raised to the level of myth. Indeed, in Sorel’s view, men who participate
in great social movements always imagine the approaching action as a
battle in which their cause is certain to triumph. Sorel calls these imaginative constructions myths. According to him, all great world-historical
acts rely on the power of myth. Examples of such myths are the Greeks’
conceptions of fame and of the great name, the anticipation of the Last
Judgment in ancient Christianity, the belief in vertu and revolutionary
freedom during the French Revolution and the national enthusiasm of
the German war of liberation in 1813. For Sorel, a mere instinct is thus
not enough. As long as there are no myths, genuinely revolutionary action
is unimaginable. Admittedly, it is only from the depths of a genuine life
instinct and not from reason or from pragmatic calculations that a myth can
emanate. However, the myth itself is also a force which evokes instincts and
motivates action. Moreover, it is a force which organizes action, representing
it in a “coordinated picture” and giving it “maximum intensity”.438 Therefore, in Sorel’s view, asking who has the power to create myths today becomes
the decisive political question. According to him, only the socialist masses,
the industrial proletariat, have a myth in which they believe. This myth is
the general strike. It is through the mythical general strike – defined as
a “phenomenon of war”439 – that the proletariat asserts its existence.
Thus, in Sorel’s view myth is by no means an ancient legend, reutilized politically in the present. On the contrary, it is a means of “framing the future”.440 But myth should not be confused with utopia either.
Sorel holds that myth is, in fact, the complete opposite of utopia, because utopia is always an intellectual achievement, a rationalistic illusion, whereas myth refers to the instinctual immediacy of life. The effect of utopias has always been, argues Sorel, merely to direct men’s
438 Georges Sorel, Reflections on Violence. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
1999, p. 118.
439 Sorel, Reflections, p. 279.
440 Sorel, Reflections, p. 116.
145
mind towards reforms, whilst myths have the power to lead men to
prepare themselves for revolutionary action. As a product of the intellect, a utopia can be discussed, it can be accepted or refuted on intellectual grounds, but a myth is an indivisible totality of profound convictions. It is not accepted or refuted in a judgment of the intellect, but
instinctually lived.441 Moreover, a myth should not be judged by the
future it portrays but as a “means of acting on the present”.442 The only
effective myths are only those which beget action immediately, encouraging great and heroic deeds.
In Sorel’s view, the outcome of this action is very different from a
Marxist dictatorship. In the dictatorship of the proletariat Sorel sees
merely a “harking back to the ancien régime”.443 Although he begins
almost always with Marx, as Schmitt observes, he does not follow the
Marxists in this matter. Like Bakunin, he opposes hierarchies and centralization. The task of the revolution is not to change the state functionaries but to abolish the state and to diffuse authority throughout
the workers’ own organizations. Contrary to Bakunin, however, Sorel
does little to provide a post-revolutionary vision of society. For him,
present action evoked by the revolutionary myths is more important
than future visions. What matters is the revolution itself, not the state of
affairs after it. The proletariat has, Sorel writes, “no need to make plans
for utilizing its victories”.444
As already mentioned, Schmitt discovers in the Russian Revolution a concrete expression of the theory of the direct use of force based
on myth. In his view, however, the mythical element in the Revolution
is not only the class struggle, but also the nation. Socialism triumphed
in Russia because it managed to combine the class struggle with the
sentiments of national enthusiasm and resentment, directed not so
441
442
443
444
146
Sorel, Reflections, pp. 28–29.
Sorel, Reflections, p. 116.
Sorel, Reflections, p. 162.
Sorel, Reflections, p. 161.
much at the propertied classes as at Western intellectualism. After
the Revolution, Schmitt remarks, Russia became Muscovite again. In
his estimation, Lenin’s greatest achievement was the interruption of
the Europeanization of Russia started by Peter the Great. According to
him, this shows that nationalism is, eventually, a greater myth than the
class struggle:
The more naturalistic conceptions of race and descent, the apparently more
typical terrisme of the Celtic and Romance peoples, the speech, tradition, and
consciousness of a shared culture and education, the awareness of belonging
to a community with a common fate or destiny, a sensibility of being different from other nations – all of that tends toward national rather than a class
consciousness today.445
For this reason Schmitt sees that Mussolini is stronger than Lenin. He
does not need to combine the international class struggle with a nationalistic sentiment. He can appeal straight to the myth of the nation. For
as much as syndicalism outlined by Sorel is grounded in myth, so too is
Fascism. In his speech of October 1922 in Naples before the March to
Rome, Mussolini declared: “We have created a myth. This myth is a
belief, a noble enthusiasm. Our myth is the nation, the great nation
which we want to make into a concrete reality for ourselves.”446 In this
myth, the anarchistic myth which resists all authority and unity is opposed by a new desire for order, discipline and hierarchy. For Schmitt,
the winner of this battle was not without significance – he definitely
preferred the desire for order, discipline and hierarchy. Nevertheless, he
recognized in both of these myths a most powerful symptom of decline,
not only of the absolute rationalism and the educational tyranny of the
Enlightenment, but also of the relative rationalism of parliamentary
thought. This is not to say that he would have perceived no danger in
the irrationality inherent in mythical thought: “The last remnants of
445 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 75.
446 Cited in Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 76.
147
solidarity and a feeling of belonging together will be destroyed in the
pluralism of an unforeseeable number of myths.”447 However, given
that it was in Schmitt’s view the “strongest political tendency today”,
one could not simply ignore it. Schmitt doubtlessly belonged to those
who did not.
447 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 76.
148
6. The Nomos of the Earth
Human thinking again must be directed to the
elemental orders of its terrestrial being here and now.
We seek for the meaning [Sinnreich] of the earth.
Carl Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth
Usually Schmitt’s thought is divided into two phases, the decisionist
phase and the phase which begins approximately in 1933, called “thinking of the concrete order”. But we must remember that Schmitt had
attempted to think about concrete order from the very beginning of his
career. Already in Political Theology, he has called his decisionist approach a philosophy of concrete life. In 1934 he merely reached the
conclusion that reflection which overemphasizes the act of decision does
not fulfill the precondition of concreteness in the philosophy of concrete life but, on the contrary, floats like the normativist norm, “freely
in the air”.448 Therefore, he replaces both of these approaches with a
supra-personal perspective. Its point of departure is neither the personal decision nor the impersonal and objective norm, but the concrete
institutional order and its historical development.449 For Schmitt, institutionalism now becomes the third and the superior form of juridical
thought, and Maurice Hauriou, instead of Kelsen and Hobbes, its most
typical representative.
Schmitt’s institutionalism is not only a counter-concept to decisionism and normativism. It also implies a form of juridical and political
thinking whose point of departure is no longer the state and its monopoly on politics. Right from the start in the 1930’s, Schmitt saw that
the “epoch of the states” was coming to an end. On the one hand, this
448 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
449 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 12.
149
decline was linked with the democratic principle of identity that led to
the blurring of the state and society and to the appearance of the quantitative total state.450 On the other hand, its root could be found in
the rising National-Socialist movement. It was, as we have already seen,
the triumph of National-Socialism, which alienated Schmitt from
decisionism. For him, the type of juridical thought which is dominated
by the opposition between norm and command, between Lex and Rex,
cannot comprehend the idea of Führer.451 Schmitt sometimes perceived
a possibility for the revival of the traditional state in Italian fascism. For
the fascistic qualitative total state was still, in Schmitt’s view, the constitutive instance of the political insofar as it was capable of genuine representation. Nevertheless, the triumph of the national-socialist idea of the
Leader and the Movement was a strong indication that the state was
becoming a receding form: “The state – as a specific order within the
political unity – no longer has a monopoly on politics. It is nothing but
an organ in the service of the Leader of the Movement.”452 When Hitler
became chancellor Schmitt wrote: “One can say that on that day ‘Hegel
died’.”453 But Hitler’s death did not entail a rebirth of the state. In the
preface to the fourth edition of The Concept of the Political written in
1963 Schmitt still emphasizes that the state, “the paradigm of political
unity, the possessor of an unbelievable monopoly, namely the monopoly
on the political decision, this masterpiece of European form and Western rationalism”, has been dethroned.454 As a result, Schmitt sought to
outline an approach which would have no connection with the modern
state. According to him, this would not signify the exclusion of the
concept of the state only, but also of all the secularized political con450 In The Concept of the Political Schmitt writes: “The equation state = politics
becomes erroneous and deceptive at exactly the moment when state and society penetrate each other.” Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 22.
451 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 42.
452 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 44.
453 Schmitt, State, Movement, People, p. 35.
454 Schmitt, Der Begriff des Politischen, p. 10.
150
cepts linked with it, and created by the European tradition of thought
and international law during the last four centuries.455
In Schmitt’s view, the concept of institution provides a means to
formulate a theory of law and politics without the concept of state.
Moreover, in the philosophy of concrete life it brings back the concreteness which both normativism and decisionism lack. Previously, Schmitt
had thought that only the decision can imbue a lifeless and abstract
norm with concrete meaning, but now he believes that both can be
replaced with the concept of institution. Unlike decisionism which
stresses the momentary strike of a concrete political act – the decision
on the exception – at the foundation of legal and political order, the
institutional reflection emphasizes the historical continuity of this order. Order is not imposed by decisions, not at least by the decisions of
decisionism. In decisionism, the decision that creates law (Recht) is independent of a “preexisting order”.456 In institutionalism, on the contrary, law (Recht) is identified with such a preexisting order, arising from
“unintentional developments”.457
In the beginning of The Nomos of the Earth (1950), Schmitt describes this unintentionally or even naturally evolved law, tracing it back
to its mythical origins in the mother earth. In Schmitt’s view, the earth
is the threefold root of law and justice. First, she contains law within
herself as a reward of labour:
The fertile earth contains within herself, within the womb of her fecundity,
an inner measure, because human toil and trouble, human planting and
cultivation of the fruitful earth, is rewarded justly by her with growth and
harvest.458
455 Schmitt, Der Begriff des Politischen, p. 10.
456 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 23.
457 Schmitt, “The Plight”, p. 56. In Political Romanticism Schmitt’s attitude
towards conservatism was still ironic, insofar as it revered tradition and durability as its “household god”. Now the essence and the value of the law lie
precisely in its “stability and durability”. Schmitt, “The Plight”, p. 57.
458 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 42.
151
Second, she manifests law upon herself, as fixed boundaries:
Soil that is cleared and worked by human hands manifests firm lines, whereby
definite divisions become apparent. Through the demarcation of fields, pastures, and forests, there lines are engraved and embedded. Through crop rotation and fallowing, they are even planted and nurtured. In these lines, the
standards and rules of cultivation of the earth become discernible.459
And third, the earth sustains law above herself, as a public sign of order:
The solid ground of the earth is delineated by fences, enclosures, boundaries,
walls, houses, and other constructs. Then, the orders [Ordnungen] and localizations / orientations [Ortungen] 460 of human social life become apparent. Then,
obviously, families, clans, tribes, estates, forms of ownership and human proximity, also forms of power and domination, become visible.461
According to Schmitt, in other words, law and justice are intimately
connected with earth and land: “Law is bound to the earth and related
to the earth.”462 In fact, law derives from land: “Every ontonomous and
ontologically just [seinsgerechte] judgement derives from land.”463
To this land-bound law Schmitt gives the ancient Greek name nomos.
For the Greeks, nomos signified law, but also custom and usage. Following
Aristotle, Schmitt associates it with the entire order (taxis) of the polis.464
According to him, nomos is a “total concept”, consisting of “concrete
459 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 42.
460 The German word Ortung is not easy to translate in English. Primarily, it
signifies localization but for Schmitt it also connotes the possibility for humans to orient themselves in the world. The counter-concept of Ortung is
Entortung, literally “displacement”, but Schmitt understands it as a substitute
for nihilism in general. Where there is Entortung, man has no concrete means
for orienting himself in the world.
461 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 42.
462 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 42.
463 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 45.
464 According to Aristotle, the law (nomos) is the order (taxis) of the city-state
(polis). Aristoteles, Politics, 1253a39.
152
order and the concrete organization of a community”.465 Therefore,
unlike the decision, it is not an exception. It is a rule, but not a rule
imposed on an order. Rather, it is the immediate expression of an order:
“Nomos is the immediate form [die unmittelbare Gestalt] in which the
political and social order of a people becomes spatially visible.” 466 It is
the unity of a spatial order (Ordnung) and the localization / orientation
(Ortung) of a particular community.
At the first sight, this turn towards philosophy of nomos would
seem to signify that Schmitt is abandoning the idea of the openness of
order towards transcendence and moving instead in the direction of a
more or even completely immanent approach. On the other hand, it
should be remembered that although institutionalism based on a philosophy of nomos emphasizes historical continuity of concrete institutions, Schmitt does not abandon the search for the origins. All continuity presupposes an origin – and in the case of nomos this origin is the
primeval act (Ur-Akt) of land-appropriation (Landnahme). Thus, the
order closing upon itself finds a new opening in appropriation, which
interrupts the process of the closing up of immanence. Appropriation
becomes a new decisionist moment, that is to say, simultaneously a rupture in the previous order and the constitutive event of a new spatial
order (Raumordnungsakt): “The great primeval acts of law” (Ur-Akte des
Rechts) are “terrestrial localizations” (erdgebundene Ortungen), that is,
land-appropriations and founding of cities and colonies.467
According to Schmitt, land-appropriation is thus the “primeval act
in founding law”.468 It is the reproductive root for the meaningfulness
of history (im Sinnreich der Geschichte) – the reproductive root of all
orders and orientations. It is found at the beginning of the history of
every settled people and every commonwealth:
465
466
467
468
Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 55.
Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 70.
Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 44. Translation altered.
Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 45.
153
The constitutive event [Vorgang] of land-appropriation is found at the beginning of the history of every settled people, every commonwealth, every empire. This is true as well for the beginning of every historical epoch. Not only
logically, but also historically, land-appropriation precedes the order that follows from it. It constitutes the original spatial order, the source of all further
concrete order and all further law.469
Hence, land-appropriation is the first measure (Ur-Maß) from which
all the subsequent measures derive. It is the primeval legal type (UrTypus) which founds and legitimates all subsequent law: “All subsequent
law and everything promulgated and enacted thereafter as degrees and
commands are nourished, to use Heraclitus’ word, by this source.”470
According to Schmitt, the very possibility of juridical relations is dependent upon this original event and determined by this original measure. Therefore, it precedes all the fundamental distinctions of law, such
as the distinction between public and private law and even the distinction between public power (imperium) and private property (dominium).471 In fact, it is the first historical condition of possibility of property as such, to the extent that all property presupposes that land has
been appropriated, which establishes the supreme property of the community: “Every land-appropriation internally creates a kind of supreme
ownership [Obereigentum] of the community as a whole.”472 But landappropriation does not create the historical condition of possibility of
law only within the community. In Schmitt’s view, it establishes the law
beyond the communal borders as well, that is, with respect to other
peoples. It establishes the historical condition of possibility for the law
of nations. It is a “constitutive event of international law”.473
469 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 48. Translation altered.
470 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 48. Schmitt refers here to Heraclitus’
fragment 44 according to which “all human laws are nourished by a single
divine law”.
471 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, pp. 46–47.
472 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 45.
473 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 80.
154
Schmitt does not claim to be alone in referring to land in his search
for the foundation of law. For instance Locke, who is usually regarded
as a modern rationalist, also saw the law as land-bound: “The Government has a direct Jurisdiction only over the land.”474 Similarly Kant,
who is considered one of the intellectual fathers of legal positivism,
holds land to be the concrete origin of law.475 According to Schmitt, the
historical destiny of law nevertheless shows that in being transformed
into mere rules (Gesetz), it has gradually become detached from this
original element, which also implies that it has become detached from
its basis of legitimacy. Schmitt views this detachment as one of the greatest
historical-intellectual failures of Western civilization. It has paved the
way for the modern state whose legitimacy is not based on a concrete
land-bound order (nomos) but on the validity of mere rules, on abstract
legality. In other words, it has facilitated the entrance of a centralized
and nihilistic apparatus of power. However, although this detachment
becomes explicitly manifest in modern legal positivism, the decline of
law is not a recent historical development. Already the Sophists, Schmitt
observes, invited the confusion in opposing phusis to nomos. They interpreted nomos as external and opposed to nature and life: “Nature (phusis)
and law (nomos) are for the most part opposed to each other”, as Callicles
says in the Gorgias.476 Moreover, they considered the order of phusis
superior to the order of polis – or as Hippias states in the Protagoras:
“Like is akin to like by nature (phusis), but law (nomos), despot (turannos)
of mankind, often constrains us contrary to nature.”477
474 John Locke, Two Treatises of Government. An Essay Concerning The True Original, Extent, and End of Civil-Government. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press 1960, p. 393.
475 “The first object of appropriation cannot be anything but land.” It is the
substance of Recht. Immanuel Kant, Rechtslehre. Schriften zur Rechtsphilosophie.
Berlin: Academie-Verlag 1988, p. 71.
476 Plato, Gorgias. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Company 1997, 482e.
477 Plato, Protagoras. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Company 1997, 337d. Translation altered.
155
For the Sophists, in other words, the law was a far cry from an
immediate form in which the “political and social order of a people
becomes visible” and which provides the measures of orientation. It
had become a turannos – and even though Plato used to criticize the
Sophists, also he, in the Statesman, defines the nomos in a similar fashion. The law is like
a self-willed and ignorant person, who allows no one to do anything contrary
to what he orders, not to ask any questions about it, not even if, after all,
something new turns out for someone which is better, contrary to the prescription which he himself has laid down.478
In Plato’s view, only a person is capable of deciding wisely, whereas nomos is “torpid by repetition”, as Schmitt might have remarked in the
1920’s. However, since his turn towards the thinking of concrete order
means that nomos is no longer a rule but an order, he turns from Plato
to Aristotle. In Aristotle’s political thought Schmitt finds a more original definition of nomos, according to which nomos is the concrete spatial
order (taxis) of a community. Given that Schmitt also approves of
Aristotle’s juxtaposition of nomos with the voted resolution (psephisma),479
it is obvious that he has abandoned the people’s will as the foundation
of constitution. In Verfassungslehre Schmitt had written that acclamation produces the law (lex est quod populus jussit) in democracy. In The
Nomos of the Earth he retracts this view, now arguing that acclamation is
the very opposite of law. True law, that is to say nomos, is not the result
of acclamation, but of the concrete order of a community, and more
originally, of the appropriation of land.
478 Plato, Statesman. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis: Hackett Publishing Company 1997, 294c.
479 See Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, pp. 67–68. Thus, diametrically opposed to Rousseau, who thought that an outcome voted by the people is
always general, Aristotle states that it is impossible for a “voted resolution to
be general”. Only nomos, understood as a concrete order, is general (katholou).
See Aristotle, Politics, 1292a, 36–37.
156
In fact, Schmitt claims that the principal literal meaning of the
Greek nomos is appropriation. He correctly notes that the noun nomos
derives from the verb nemein, proposing that nomos is a nomen actionis –
a verbal noun – of nemein in the same sense as logos is a nomen actionis
of the verb legein. But this does not explain why appropriation is the
principal meaning of nomos given that usually nemein is translated as
division or distribution. In his explanation, Schmitt detects a linguistic
relationship between the Greek verb nemein and the German verb nehmen: “‘Nemein’ is the equivalent of the German ‘nehmen’, to take.”480
As the Greek “legein-logos”, that is, “to speak-speech”, corresponds to
the German “sprechen-Sprache”, so too, argues Schmitt, the German
“nehmen-Nahme” corresponds to the Greek “nemein-nomos”.481
This is also the context for Schmitt’s interpretation of the famous
Pindar fragment, nomos basileus:
Heracles is the mythical foundation of order. Given that he “appropriated”
the cattle of the three-headed giant, he created law; the taking (Nahme) – the
nomos – transformed power into law. This is the significance of the often
cited Pindar fragment nomos basileus.482
Hence, although Schmitt opposes the Sophistic distinction between
nomos and phusis, he nevertheless seems to agree with Callicles’ concept
of natural law (nomos phuseôs) explained by means of the very same
Pindar fragment. According to Callicles, the fragment tells how Heracles
“drove off Geryon’s cattle, even though he hadn’t paid for them and
Geryon hadn’t given them to him, on the ground that this is what’s just
by nature and that cattle and all the other possessions of those who are
worse and inferior belong to the one who’s better and superior”.483 Of
480 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 37.
481 See Schmitt, “Appropriation”, p. 326.
482 Carl Schmitt, “Nomos – Nahme – Name” (1956). Corollary 2 in the Appendix to The Nomos of the Earth. New York: Telos Press 2003, p. 342, footnote 19.
483 Plato, Gorgias, 484c.
157
course, Schmitt clearly does not believe that those who are inferior should
be subjected to those who are superior. Moreover, he claims that Callicles
identifies Pindar’s nomos with a mere “enactment of an act”.484 Nevertheless, if we compare Schmitt’s thesis, according to which the Israelites’
land-appropriation of Canaan, led by Joshua, is the “classic example”485
of the famous appropriations in history that create nomos, with Callicles’
examples of natural law, it is quite obvious that their arguments converge. In both cases, law is created by violent appropriations. Joshua
“seized the whole land”,486 that is to say, he conquered the “land of the
Ken’ites, the Ken’izzites, the Kad’monites, the Hittites, the Per’izzites,
the Reph’aim, the Amorites, the Canaanites, the Gir’gashites and the
Jeb’usites” (Genesis 15: 18–21), killing everyone he and his troops encountered (cf. Joshua 11: 7–14). In the same way, Callicles claims that
the primeval law – natural law – consist of conquering and killing:
For what sort of justice did Xerxes go by when he campaigned against Greece,
of his father when he campaigned against Scythia? Countless other such
examples could be mentioned. I believe that these men do these things in
accordance with the nature of what’s just – yes, by Zeus, in accordance with
the law of nature (nomos phuseôs), and presumably not with the one we institute.487
Admittedly Schmitt, unlike Callicles, does not consider different nomoi
as antitheses to the original nomos based on appropriation. These different nomoi are nourished by the original, as Heraclitus’ divine nomos
nourishes all human nomoi. Nevertheless, in the crucial respects their
views converge. They both associate the original nomos with violence.
But Schmitt’s nomos does not signify only appropriation; it retains
a secondary meaning in what is usually understood by nemein, to distribute. In other words, nomos also signifies to divide (teilen) – to dis484
485
486
487
158
Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 73.
Schmitt, “Appropriation”, p. 329.
Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 81.
Plato, Gorgias, 483e.
tribute that which has been appropriated. After the land has been
appropriated, it is divided and distributed. Its concrete result is the
Ur-Teil, the original part and share: “Hence also the second sense of
‘nomos’, the basic division and repartition of the soil and the resulting
ownership order.”488 Nomos is a decision or a judgment (Urteil) in which
every member of a community gets his share. Or, as for instance Hobbes
was still able to assert in the 17th century:
Seeing therefore the Introduction of Propriety is an effect of Common-wealth;
which can do nothing but by the Person that Represents it, it is the act only of
the Soveraign; and consisteth in the Lawes, which none can make that have
not the Soveraign Power. And this they well knew of old, who called that
Nomos, (that is to say, Distribution,) which we call Law; and defined Justice,
by distributing to every man his own.489
Schmitt does not stop here, however. In addition to appropriation and
distribution, nemein contains a third meaning, to pasture (weiden). After the land has been appropriated and divided, it has to be cultivated
and made to bear fruit. In this case nomos receives its content from the
manner of production of goods:
The nomads Abraham and Lot searching for pasture and tending their animals, Cincinnatus plowing his field, the shoemaker Hans Sachs at work in
his shop, the industrial wok of Friedrich con Krupp in his factory, all this is
nemein in the third sense of nomos: to pasture, to run a household, to use, to
produce.490
488 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 37.
489 Hobbes, Leviathan, p. 171. Even though Schmitt does not, after shifting to
“concrete order thinking”, agree with Hobbes’ idea of the sovereign’s monopoly concerning laws, he nevertheless, like Hobbes, emphasizes that in
addition to land-appropriation nomos is linked with property, with a share of
the land and its products. Concretely speaking, nomos is, for instance, the
chicken every peasant “living under a good king has on Sunday”, or the “car
every American worker has parked in his garage”. Schmitt, “Appropriation”,
p. 327.
490 Schmitt, “Appropriation”, p. 327.
159
In other words, even though land-appropriation is the original event of
nomos, one should not consider the way of production – or even the
consumption of the produced goods – as insignificant in relation to the
concrete order. In every stage of social life, in every economic order, in
every period of legal and political history until now, things have somehow been appropriated, distributed and produced. Therefore, Schmitt
states that in order to grasp the meaning of a certain historical nomos, of
a certain social, political and legal order, we only need to ask a simple
question: “Where and how was it appropriated? Where and how was it
divided? Where and how was it produced?”491
Yet, in the sequence of events of nomos, production is merely the
final one. It follows the more primary acts of appropriation and distribution. Prior to production and consumption, the events of appropriation and division must take place. To be sure, Schmitt admits that the
stakes nowadays do not consist primarily in land-appropriation or landdivision, given the fact that it is rarely land which is appropriated, divided and distributed. As a matter of fact, the sea replaced land as the
principal target of appropriation already in the 16th century. And although the sea has also ceased to be an object of appropriations, they
continue to exist today: there are industry-appropriations, even air and
space appropriations.492 In any case, Schmitt’s primary interest is the
sequence of these processes, that is to say, the primacy of the event of
appropriation.
It is from this perspective that Schmitt criticizes the socialist theorists of the state and economy. In focusing merely on distribution and
production, they fail to pay attention to this order of priority. But
Schmitt sees in socialism still a doctrine of distribution, whereas many
non-socialist “doctrinaire thinkers” have abandoned even the problem
of distribution, regarding it as too difficult to solve.493 For the latter,
491 Schmitt, “Appropriation”, p. 328.
492 See Schmitt, “Nomos – Nahme – Name”, p. 347.
493 Schmitt, “Appropriation”, pp. 334–335.
160
there remains only production. In Schmitt’s view, however, it would
be utopian to construe social and economic systems solely in terms of
production:
If there were only problems of production, and if mere production created
such wealth and unlimited possibilities of consumption that both appropriation and distribution no longer were problematic, then economic
systems would cease to exist, because they always presuppose a certain
scarcity.494
This is also the bone of contention between Schmitt and the French
Hegelian Alexander Kojève. Kojève, who believed that we are witnessing the end of history, considered modern enlightened techno-capitalism a bestowing capitalism. Schmitt’s critical response to Kojève was
that only God can genuinely bestow, that is to say, to “give, divide,
and distribute without taking”.495 For Schmitt, like for Marx, capitalism is necessarily exploitative, but this exploitation is not a contingent
element that we can rid ourselves of in an earthly (communist) paradise to come. All economic systems are based on exploitation, in other
words, on the original event of appropriation. It is obvious that technological progress changes the nature of these systems by generating
new modes of appropriation, distribution, and production. But the fact
remains that things are still first appropriated and only subsequently
distributed and produced. Technological progress merely intensifies the
process.
494 Schmitt, “Appropriation”, p. 335.
495 Schmitt, “Nomos – Nahme – Name”, p. 345.
161
Smooth and Striated
For Schmitt, nomos signifies above all delimitation, setting of
boundaries. There is no nomos in the sense of a meaningful concrete order without boundaries and enclosures, without a ring
drawn in the soil:
The solid ground of the earth is delineated by fences, enclosures, boundaries, walls, houses, and other constructs. Then, the orders and orientations of human social life become apparent.496
Hence, a spatial enclosure, a sort of fence, is in the foundation of
every nomos: “The enclosing ring – the fence formed by men’s
bodies, the man-ring – is a primeval from of ritual, legal, and political cohabitation.”497 Without the enclosure there would be
no order, since there would be no distinction between inside and
outside, between private and public, imperium and dominium – no
guideline, which would make meaning and orientation possible,
but only nomos-inimical nothingness. Schmitt quotes Nietzsche:
“With strong shoulders space [Raum] opposes the nothingness
[Nichts]. Where there is space [Raum], there is being [Sein].”498 If
nomos means the dividing of space, the space of a nomos itself is
always a divided space: “True and authentic fundamental order”,
that is to say nomos, “is based, at its essential core, on certain spatial
limits and delimitations, on certain measures and a certain partitioning up of the earth.”499 From this perspective it is conceivable
that, for Schmitt, a limitless domination by a Superpower would
496 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 42. Translation altered.
497 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 74.
498 Carl Schmitt, “Raum und Rom. Zur Phonetik des Wortes Raum” (1951). In
Staat, Großraum, Nomos. Arbeiten aus den Jahren 1916–1969. Berlin: Duncker
& Humblot 1995, p. 494.
499 Schmitt, Land and Sea, pp. 37–38. Translation altered.
162
be as dangerous as total chaos and limitless anarchy. In both cases
the delimitation as the precondition of order and orientation disappears. Then all peoples would live like the Jews, who “without
land, without the state and without the church exist only through
‘law’ [Gesetz]”,500 that is to say, without order and orientation.
In the history of mankind, however, there are and always have
been land-bound communities whose principles of localization and
orientation have not depended on spatial delimitations and enclosures. In political theory, this is usually ignored – perhaps for good
reasons. On the other hand, there are certain philosophers who
have paid attention to these “boundless” forms of localization and
orientation. The French Gilles Deleuze figures prominently among
them. He argues that a space with enclosed borders, subdivided
into definite parts – a “striated space” (l’espace strié) – is surely a
foundation of orientation for political communities, but it is not
the only one. He clearly considers it typical of the Western political
tradition, dominated by the idea and practice of what he calls the
“State”: “One of the fundamental tasks of the State is to striate the
space over which it reigns.”501 For him, the notion of the State
does not designate merely the modern state, which emerged in the
16th century, but a specific principle of order, materialized in the
ancient polis and the Oriental despotic regimes, as well as in the
modern states. In all of them, order is created by means of spatial
delimitations and enclosures. In addition to this tradition of the
State, however, there exists also another tradition. Deleuze’s focus
here is not the Jewish tradition, which represents the paradigmatic
case of stateless existence for Schmitt,502 but the tradition of the
500 Schmitt, Über die Drei Arten, p. 9.
501 Gilles Deleuze & Felix Guattari, A Thousand Plateaus. Capitalism and Schizophrenia. London: Athlone Press 1987, p. 385.
502 In fact, Deleuze sees the monotheistic religion as the origin of the universal
State-form. See Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 383.
163
nomadic way of life. For Deleuze, a nomad is not someone who has
not yet assumed the State-form but, on the contrary, someone who
ceaselessly resists it.503 Instead of the striated space, a nomad inhabits a “smooth space” (l’espace lissé), where orientation takes place
according to events, intensities and relations instead of fixed measures and delimitations. For Deleuze, the smooth space is in fact
the original space of nomos. It is only in relation to this space that
the enclosed State space and the State law can develop.
In other words, Deleuze distinguishes, like Schmitt, nomos from
the modern law. Nomos is neither a rule nor a command – it is an
immediate spatial order. In fact, Schmitt’s formulation according
to which nomos is the “full immediacy of a legal power [Rechtskraft]
not mediated by laws [Gesetze]”,504 sounds perfectly Deleuzean.505
However, Deleuze would not agree with Schmitt that nomos as an
immediate plenitude is the original legal power, which legitimates
the legality of law in the enclosed space of a political entity. His
nomos eschews enclosed spaces. Admittedly, also Schmitt emphasizes every now and then that his concept of space must not be
understood as an enclosed ring. According to him, space signifies
503 Deleuze calls nomadic societies “counter-State societies”. Deleuze & Guattari,
Thousand Plateaus, p. 429.
504 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 42.
505 The proximity of Schmitt’s and Deleuze’s nomoi probably derives from the
fact that they both rely more or less on Emmanuel Laroche’s classical study
on the linguistic history of nomos, Histoire de la racine “Nem” en grec ancien.
Paris: Klincksieck 1949. However, whereas Deleuze emphazes Laroche’s view
according to which “the occupation of shepherd [to take to pasture, i. e., nemô],
in the Homeric age, had nothing to do with the parceling of land”, Schmitt
stresses Laroche’s observation concerning the gesture of the Sophists by which
they distinguished nomos from phusis: “The reality (phusis) was opposed to
the habitual (nomos) in the same way as subject and object are opposed in the
modern ways of speaking” – as if people’s actions in relation to nature were
always and in every case contingent, changing and antagonistic. See Laroche,
Histoire, pp. 192–195.
164
neither an enclosed ring nor a district but a world – and this world
is not an empty space or in an empty space. It is a world “fulfilled
by the tension between different elements”, that is to say, between
land, sea, air, and fire.506 Nevertheless, for him, there exists no
nomos without a delimitation of this worldly space, without a distinction between inside (order and localization) and outside (disorder and delocalization). Nomos is precisely the result of this distinction, the result of the act of demarcation. It does not undo the
tension between the elements but on the contrary, it is the precondition for the latter, and therefore, for the existence of a world.
In Deleuze’s view, the Schmittian order of nomos would perhaps correspond to what he calls “an archaic imperial State apparatus” to the extent that this State is based on an act of appropriation – or of capture, as Deleuze has it. Moreover, like Schmitt,
who considers the original order of nomos to be almost diametrically opposed to the modern law state, also Deleuze contrasts the
“archaic imperial State” with another, historically more recent Stateform. In this case, political sovereignty is not exercised by means of
capture, but by means of treaties, pacts and contracts. Contrary to
Schmitt, however, Deleuze does not consider these two types of
States antithetical but emphasizes that every concrete State has
always been a combination of both, that is, of the “fearsome magician-emperor” operating by capture and of the “jurist-king” proceeding by treaties and contracts.507 Deleuze acknowledges that
historically the magician-emperor is an earlier figure and consequently, the archaic imperial State apparatus of capture becomes a
certain kind of an Urstaat. In Schmittian terms, it is a State which
precedes all the fundamental distinctions of law, such as the distinction between public and private law and even the distinction
between public power (imperium) and private property (dominium):
“For private property cannot arise on the side of the emperor506 Schmitt, “Raum und Rom”, pp. 492–493.
507 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, pp. 424–427.
165
despot.”508 In an imperial regime, everything is public. But this
does not imply that the archaic imperial State would exhaust the
original meaning of nomos, whereas the subsequent contract-andlaw State of the jurist-king would be alienated from it. For Deleuze,
nomos is not the order (taxis) of the Urstaat or that of the ancient
polis or finally, the order of the modern Rechtsstaat. It is an order
outside the polis and all the other State-forms. If Schmitt shared
the Aristotelian view, according to which man outside an enclosed
political community (polis) is either a beast or a God,509 Deleuze
outlines another kind of political form of being together starting
from the outside.
Although the archaic imperial State apparatus of capture represents a certain kind of Urstaat for Deleuze, in his view there exists
no State which would not require appropriation. But unlike for
Schmitt, for Deleuze appropriation does signify the original historical event founding the State, because he argues that there have been
States always and everywhere. Appropriation is not the original UrAkt, but a functional necessity in order for the State apparatus to
operate.510 However, the State is not only an apparatus of appropriation but like Schmitt’s order of nomos, one of distribution as
well. Moreover, the State distributes in the same way as Schmitt’s
distributive nomos, that is to say, by means of fixed land-bound
measures: “A distribution of this type proceeds by fixed and proportional determinations which may be assimilated to ‘properties’ or
limited territories within representation.”511 In Schmitt’s view such
508 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 449.
509 In a famous passage in Politics Aristotle writes: “A man who is incapable of
entering into partnership, or who is so self-sufficing that he has no need to do
so, is no part of a state, so that he must be either a lower animal or a god.”
Aristotle, Politics, 1253a, 27–29.
510 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 447.
511 Gilles Deleuze, Difference and Repetition. London: The Athlone Press 1994,
p. 36.
166
a distribution, “the partitioning of the earth”, is necessary for the
emergence of the concrete nomos. As for Deleuze, however, we are
merely witnessing the coming into being of a nomos-inimical State.
This is not to say that there is no distribution in the nomadic
order. Even Schmitt comments on the nomadic distribution: “Progressive redivisions and distributions are normal with nomadic
tribes.”512 But in his view there is no significant difference between
nomadic distribution and other forms of distribution. For Deleuze,
however, it is precisely the mode of distribution that separates the
nomadic way of life from that of the State. Unlike the latter, a
nomad does not divide a space – he fills it. He fills it by distributing and disseminating himself over an open space just like a herd
distributes itself over a pasture without borders: “It is a very special
kind of distribution, one without division into shares, in a space
without borders or enclosure.”513 As mentioned, Deleuze calls this
space smooth. For Schmitt, such a space would not be a space at
all, but a meaningless nothingness without the possibility of orientation. Deleuze agrees that there are no visible and disjunctive borderlines in such a space. But in his view this does not signify that
orientation would be impossible. In a smooth space, orientation is
based on a totality of visually limited non-disjunctive relations:
There is no line separating earth and sky; there is no intermediate distance, no perspective or contour; visibility is limited; and yet there is an
extraordinarily fine topology that relies not on points or objects but
rather on haecceities, on sets of relations – winds, undulations of snow
or sand, the song of the sand or the creaking of ice.514
Smooth space is directional rather than dimensional, an intensive
rather than an extensive space, a space of distances, not of measures
and properties. It is a tactile and sonorous rather than a visual space.
512 Schmitt, “Nomos – Nahme – Name”, p. 345.
513 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 380.
514 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 382.
167
Naturally, this does not mean that visual perception would become impossible, only that it is not based on measures and properties but on “symptoms and evaluations”. Whereas striated space is
canopied by the sky as measure and by the measurable visual qualities deriving from it, smooth space, on the contrary, is inhabited by
measureless events and intensities, perceived to the extent that one
affects them, is in touch with them.515
Schmitt’s attitude towards the limitless space can be illuminated through the example of the high seas. Schmitt perceives the
high seas as a meaningless chaos of non-spatial emptiness: “The sea
knows no unity of space and law, of order and orientation.”516 It has
no order and orientation because fixed lines cannot be engraved on
the sea. There are “no limits, no boundaries, no consecrated sites, no
sacred locations [sakrale Ortung], no law, and no property” on the
open sea.517 The sea has no character in the original sense of the
515 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 479. Unlike Schmitt, who tried to
resist tecnologization by means of a more sublime juridical and political rationality, Deleuze discovers the point of resistance to the State technology –
to the “art of the State” – in technology itself. The issue here is not the original meaning of tekhne, but the technology of the nomads. The paradigm of
this technology is felting. It was precisely felting that Plato had disqualified in
Statesman as a technological paradigm for the art of polis. Instead of felting,
the proper skill of a statesman could be compared to the weaving of woolen
robes, that is, to the interlacing of weft and warp, or in less concrete terms, to
the interspersing of horizontal and vertical threads: to the striation of a closed
space. See Plato, Statesman, 279a–. According to Deleuze, however, the disqualification of felting as a paradigm does not signify that there would exist
no political space corresponding to the metaphor of felt. Felt is like the stateless space of the nomadic peoples. The nomadic space is not striated like a
woven fabric but open and smooth like felt. This does not mean, however,
that it would be homogenous and therefore without means of orientation.
Like felt, the nomadic space is just amorphous, “non-formal space prefiguring op art”. Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 477.
516 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 42.
517 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 43.
168
word, deriving from the Greek charassein: to engrave, to scratch, to
inscribe: “The sea is free.”518 But it does not follow that Schmitt
would consider the high seas impossible to appropriate. In his view,
in fact, modern European history as a whole is based on the appropriation of the high seas, originating in the Age of Discovery. According to him, however, sea-appropriation is completely different
from land-appropriation, because the former does not result in a
new political order, characterized by spatial delimitations and enclosures. The appropriation of the high seas does not bring about a
new nomos, because it is impossible to engrave lines on the sea.
Deleuze, on the contrary, argues that it is possible to engrave lines
on the sea, that is to say, to striate maritime space. In his view, the
modern appropriation of the high seas was possible precisely because the Western man discovered how to striate the sea:
Maritime space was striated as a function of two astronomical and geographical gains: bearings, obtained by a set of calculations based on
exact observations of the stars and the sun; and the map, which intertwines meridians and parallels, longitudes and latitudes, plotting regions known and unknown onto a grid.519
According to Deleuze, however, the sea was not free even before its
striation. It was already inhabited by means of a nomadic system of
navigation based on the immanent determinations of the sea itself,
that is to say, by means of evaluations concerning the intensities of
the sea: “The wind and noise, the colors and sounds of the seas.”520
It was occupied in the nomadic way and not in that of the State.
The issue is, of course, more complex than that, especially if
we take into account Schmitt’s distinction between terrestrial and
maritime powers. It is only the terrestrial power that generates a
518 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 43.
519 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 479.
520 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 479.
169
land-bound nomos based on appropriations and spatial enclosures.
Admittedly, a terrestrial power can also appropriate a sea, but it
appropriates seas in order to conquer lands overseas. A maritime
power, on the contrary, conquers overseas lands in order to control
the seas themselves. For Schmitt, the imperial England is a paradigmatic case of a maritime power. In his view, the imperial England
turned its whole collective existence seawards and centered it on
the element of sea.521 Of course, turning seawards does not yet
imply that England would have become nomadic. In Deleuze’s view
this would presuppose a profound change of perspective. He illustrates this change with an example of the point and the line: “In
the case of the striated, the line is between two points, while in the
smooth the point is between two lines.”522 Did England assume
such a change of perspective? According to Schmitt, it did. It was
not the point which mattered for England, but the line between
the points; not the lands which were appropriated, but the smooth
spaces between the lands. England did not work like a net (“apparatus of capture”) for catching fish, but it became a fish itself:
“Like a fish, it was able to swim to another point of the globe.”523
England began to think in terms of “lines of communication”.524
Hence England became, at least from Schmitt’s perspective, a perfect nomadic tribe and the more nomadic it became, the less it
remained an enclosed political entity, becoming finally a global
nomadic Empire.
Moreover, also Deleuze emphasizes that in addition to the tendency to striate smooth space, for instance “as a means of communication in the service of striated space”,525 the State has a tendency to occupy and even to produce the smooth space. Instead of
521
522
523
524
525
170
Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 28.
Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 480.
Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 51.
Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 51.
Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 385.
striating space, the State, especially the contemporary technological state, occupies it like Schmitt’s imperial England, in perpetual
motion: “One no longer goes from one point to another, but rather
holds space beginning from any point.”526 In spite of that, Deleuze
refuses to see a victory of the nomadic way of life in this tendency.
The State does not create the smooth space in order to become
nomadic but “for the purpose of controlling striated space more
completely”.527 In Deleuze’s view, the State cannot be authentically nomadic. It can only use the nomadic tactics as a means of
striation in the same way as it uses the nomadic “war machines” as
a means of land-appropriation. Whether the State is a global Empire is insignificant, because Empires are also States, that is to say,
“apparatuses of capture”.
In the final analysis, Schmitt shares this view with Deleuze.
Also Empires, including the maritime England, are powers that are
founded on spatial divisions and enclosures because, in Schmitt’s
view, there exists no order without them. Where there is a spatial
enclosure, there is being. In the absence of enclosure, there is nothingness. For this reason, the difference between Schmitt and Deleuze
remains. For Deleuze, this nothingness is not void of being, but
home to the nomadic way of being – the nomadic space. This space
is not an empty space which legitimates spatial delimitations, as
Schmitt thinks. It is a furnished space but it is furnished with other
elements. Instead of fences and walls it holds events and intensities. It might seem that orientation is impossible there, but in
Deleuze’s view it is impossible only for someone who identifies the
possibility of orientation with spatial limits and delimitations, with
certain measures and a certain partitioning of the earth. For such a
person, it might seem that the nomadic space is a space of nihilism,
but for Deleuze it is the striated space of the State that brings about
real nihilism.
526 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 387.
527 Deleuze & Guattari, Thousand Plateaus, p. 480.
171
6.1 Jus publicum Europaeum
For Schmitt, the world history is a history of land-appropriations. The
first stage of this history lasted until the 16th century when the concrete, purely terrestrial and land-bound nomos began to decline. Before
that, every great empire conceived of itself as the center of the world, as
the cosmos, and perceived its own space as a room of peace while the
outside world was either considered an “odd curiosity” or identified
with war and chaos. According to Schmitt, this was the case in Classical
and Hellenistic Greece, the Roman republic and Empire, and the Medieval Christian world.528 The decline of this land-bound nomos was
linked to the Age of Discovery and the appropriation of the seas. Until
the end of the Middle Ages the world ended where the sea began. Now
the sea became an essential element in the nomos of the earth. But the
new nomos was not based on the sea. Rather, it was based on a new kind
of equilibrium between the firm land and the open sea – an equilibrium
that became a fundamental characteristic of the jus publicum Europaeum,
the international law of the European states from the end of the 16th
until the beginning of the 20th century.
According to Schmitt, jus publicum Europaeum was essentially linked
with the emergence of the juristically rationalized and sovereign territorial state. First, it created coherent international jurisdictions by placing
feudal, territorial, estate and church rights under the centralized legislation, administration and judiciary of a territorial ruler. Second, it put
an end to the European civil war between churches and religious parties, thereby neutralizing confessional conflicts within the state through
a centralized political unity. Third, on the basis of the internal political
unity, the state constituted within and of itself a closed area with fixed
528 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, pp. 50–52. See also G. L. Ulmen, “The
Concept of Nomos: Introduction to Schmitt’s ‘Appropriation / Distribution /
Production’.” Telos No 95, Spring 1993, p. 41.
172
borders, allowing a specific type of foreign relations with other similarly
organized territorial orders to emerge.529 Thus arose, writes Schmitt,
“the spatially self-contained – unburdened with the problems of estates,
church and religious civil wars – impermeable territorial order of the
‘state’.”530
In other words, the state became the agency of a new order in international law, whose spatial structure was determined by and referred
to the state. International law became the law between states. The law
between states also created new frameworks for peace and war. The
Medieval limitless war of annihilation based on the principle of justa
causa – justified cause to wage war – was replaced with what Schmitt
describes as a rationalized and humanized, juristically limited warfare.531
According to him, the first presupposition of the rationalized and regularized warfare was that the right to warfare was restricted to the sovereign states: “Only states as self-contained units face one another as enemies.”532 The second was that this right could be applied upon without
any restrictions – without a demand that a war be just: “War in form, as
to its effects, must be regarded as just on both sides”, as Emmerich de
Vattel, a prominent theorist of the jus publicum wrote in The Law of
Nations (1758).533 In a regular war, whatever is permitted to one party
is permitted to the other: “Wars between states cannot be measured
with the yardstick of truth and justice.”534 With the mutual recognition
of this right ( jus ad bellum), the emphasis shifted from the issue of the
justness of war to law in war ( jus in bello).
In the framework of the jus publicum Europeaum, law in war signified, on the one hand, that the in-between situation of neither war nor
peace was excluded and the state of war was distinguished from the state
529
530
531
532
533
534
See Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, pp. 140–143.
Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 129.
Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 142.
Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 47.
Quoted in Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 166.
Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 47.
173
of peace by the declaration of war and the peace treaty. On the other
hand, it signified that only the armed soldiers of sovereign states – understood as public persons (personae publicae) – waged war, whereas
civilians remained outside of it. The uniform distinguished the soldiers
from the civilians, and the enemy soldier was no longer considered as a
heathen whose killing was a moral duty. In other words, like the Medieval idea of a just cause to wage war, which was replaced with the right
of a sovereign state to warfare – and with the right not to wage war to
the extent that the “war in form” made it possible for a third party to
remain neutral – the discriminatory concept of the enemy without rights
(hostis criminalis) was replaced with the indiscriminating concept of the
just enemy (justus hostis). Or, as Schmitt himself writes:
Post-medieval European international law from the 16th to the 20th century sought to repress the justa causa. The formal reference point for determining of just war no longer was the church’s authority in international
law, but rather the equal sovereignty of states. Instead of justa causa, international law among states was based on justus hostis. Any war between states,
between equal sovereigns, was legitimate. Given this juridical formalization,
a rationalization and humanization – a bracketing – of war was achieved for
200 years.535
The concept of war in form characteristic of the jus publicum included,
however, only the land and the wars which were waged on land. The
sea, which was nevertheless a part of the global nomos, was considered
to be a sphere outside the law: no-one’s space (res nullius) or everyone’s
space (res omnius). Hence the international law of the European states
had two spatial orders, a land-bound and a maritime order. These orders corresponded to the two types of warfare and enemy. Only land
war was a war in form, that is to say, a controlled conflict between
equally sovereign states, between justi hostes. The naval war was instead
a war without such rules, and it was based on the concept of hostis
generis humani, the enemy of humankind.
535 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, pp. 120–121.
174
Pirates and Partisans
For Schmitt, man is above all a “terrestrial, a groundling”.536 Even
though the majority of our planet is covered by water, we call it
earth. The thought of a maritime globe sounds strange to our ears.
Despite this, there has been a tendency, if not at the level of terminology, at least in practice, towards the formation of a maritime
globe. According to Schmitt, already the appearance of the first
maritime power, Venice, implied a long journey from land and
terrestrial existence to the sea. For the people of Venice, the sea no
longer signified a dangerous route; it became the foundation of their
politics and wealth. But Venice is only the first step in the history of
the appropriation of the seas. In fact, the first worldwide maritime
power was England: “England became the heiress, the universal
heiress of the great change in the existence of the European nations.”537 In Schmitt’s view, the spiritual strength of England was
based on the most revolutionary form of Protestantism, namely on
Calvinism, which became the religion of the English puritans. For
him, Calvinism was a militant religion, perfectly adapted to inspire
the elemental thrust seawards. Schmitt goes as far as to intention a
“historical brotherhood” between politicized Calvinism and the
maritime energies which were released in Europe.538
There have, of course, been maritime powers throughout the
ages: besides Venice, Athens and Carthage can be considered as
such. Spain and Portugal also conquered lands overseas. According
to Schmitt, however, the English domination of the seas was a totally
different phenomenon. As mentioned above, it did not aim for the
domination of the seas in order to appropriate lands beyond the sea
but, on the contrary, for the appropriation of the lands overseas in
order to dominate the seas themselves. This change presupposed
536 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 1.
537 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 27.
538 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 45.
175
abandoning the whole Western tradition of land-bound thinking,
which had also been predominant in the medieval England. Even
though Britain has always been an island, in the Middle Ages it was
still a nation of sheep-breeders whose consciousness was territorial
through and through. But the sixteenth century changed everything.
The nation of sheep-breeders transformed into a nation of the children of the sea: “She truly turned her collective existence seawards and
centred it on the sea element.”539 At the moment in history when the
true form of the earth was unveiled, only the English had the quality
required in order to establish a world power which would extend over
the entire globe, namely the capacity for absolute deterritorialization:
“Like a ship or a fish, England was able to swim to another spot of the
globe.”540 Moreover, as soon as England opted for this exclusively
maritime mode of existence, its relations with the countries on the
European continent were profoundly transformed: “All the standards
and criteria of British politics became incompatible with those of
all the other European countries.”541 What to other nations was soil
(Boden) and homeland (Heimat), appeared to the English as mere
hinterland. In Schmitt’s view, the very word “continental” was lent
a retrograde connotation, and the nations concerned were thought
of as backward people. Progressive people – the English – were those
who were capable of uprooting themselves, those who were capable
of thinking, not in terms of places, but in terms of connections between places, that is to say, in terms of “lines of communication”.542
In Schmitt’s view, the appropriation of land refers to the founding of a political order, whereas the conquest of the seas has always entailed governance through trade.543 He quotes Sir Walter Raleigh,
539
540
541
542
543
176
Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 28.
Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 51. Translation altered.
Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 51.
Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 51.
In this context, it can be pointed out that Schmitt sees more than an etymological connection (Latin tradere) between trade and betrayal. See Schmitt,
The Concept of the Political, p. 77.
this “typical English pirate”: “Whoever controls the seas controls
the world trade; whoever controls world trade holds all the treasures of the world in his possession, and in fact, the whole world.”544
Schmitt stresses Raleigh’s role as a pirate, because he believes that
the origin of the English world power lies precisely in piratism. To
be sure, he is not talking about private pirates but privateers who
held a legal title, a commission from the government. But this does
not change anything, because the distinction between a pirate and
a privateer, so clear in theory, is quickly blurred in practice. Schmitt
also adds that all naval warfare follows the rules of piratism in one
way or another. Firstly, its purpose is not to defend the borders of
one’s country but to pursue commercial and economic interests.
Secondly, while the paradigmatic combat of land warfare is an open
and public confrontation – a kind of duel – of the armies of two
states understood as “public persons”,545 the tactics of maritime
war are, instead, more or less concealed attacks from afar: bombardments, blockades of enemy shores, captures of merchant marines. This being the case, the enemy is not only a public soldier in
uniform, but all the resources and among them all the private individuals of the hostile nation. A blockade, for instance, indiscriminately affects the entire population of the involved territory: soldiers, civilians, men and women, children and old people.546
Ultimately, even neutral states trading with the enemy are counted
as enemies.
544 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 47.
545 “As in a legal order that recognizes the duel as a legal right, such a duel has its
intrinsic legal guarantees to the extent that certain qualities are possessed by
each duelist. In other words, only men who are capable of engaging in duels
can do so, and every duel, as such, can be considered neither just nor unjust.
In the same vein, it is equally impossible to speak in the international law of
just or unjust wars between states as long as the law is essentially that which
is ‘valid between states’.” Schmitt, The Leviathan, p. 48.
546 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 48.
177
In Schmitt’s view, the means and aims of naval warfare were not
only the reason of success of the British world power, but signified
also the beginning of the end of the jus publicum Europaeum, the international order of the European states. However, in the end of the
19th century, when the United States overtook the British world
dominion, a fish was already turning into a machine. “The industrial
revolution transformed the children of the sea into machine-builders
and servants of the machine.”547 As a result, the distinction between
land and sea, on which the dominion of the oceans and the world
supremacy rested, became redundant, because the machine was capable of lifting man high above the plains and the waves. Then a fierce
battle about the domination of a third element – the air space –
began. In war, the infantry and the ship were replaced with the plane
and respectively, the duel and the blockade with the rocket darting
through the air. In addition to the methods, also the aims and the
interests changed. The means and methods of land warfare had served
primarily the aim of occupying the enemy territory, which also implied
an interest in maintaining peace and order in that territory. In the
case of maritime war, the aim of occupation and the interest in the
maintenance of peace and order were replaced with an interest in the
spoils of war. But the means and methods of aerial warfare, argues
Schmitt, are totally different and alter the essence of war fundamentally. War becomes purely destructive. It is clear that war at sea also
contains such destructive elements, given the fact that blockade rather
than occupation is the standard strategy. Nevertheless, in sea war the
warring parties still face each other on the same level. Moreover, the
interest in the spoils of war implies an interest in sparing the enemy
property from destruction. Instead, aerial warfare has no such limits. The pilots of the bombers do not face the enemy population at
all – nor do they have any interest in the booty. Air war is purely
destructive and can only serve the interest of annihilation.548
547 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 54.
548 See Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, pp. 316–320.
178
Such a shift in the means and perspectives of warfare necessarily
implies a change in the concept of the enemy. If the aim is purely
destructive, it presupposes that the enemy is seen as someone who
deserves to be annihilated. The men who use the weapons must
“brand their opponents as criminal and inhuman, as an absolute
non-value”, otherwise they themselves would become criminals and
monsters.549 This holds true especially in the case of the most recent
development in war technology, the nuclear weapons: “Such absolute weapons of mass destruction require a foe in order not to appear
inhuman.”550 In other words, in the age of nuclear weapons and
other means of mass destruction, the nature of enmity changes
almost by necessity. The enemy can no longer be someone who is
“on the same level as I am”.551 Between me and my enemy, there
must be an abyss, an absolute dissymmetry. The enemy can no
longer be the real enemy – he must become an absolute enemy, a foe.
The whole concept of enemy may have to be formally banned eventually, because of its historical implications of mutual respect. In
Schmitt’s view, this might very well be the moral precondition of –
even “moral obligation”552 for – the future wars of destruction.
But the devaluation of the enemy has not taken place only
because of the development of war technology. Historically speaking, this devaluation is also connected with the appearance of a new
kind of combatant, namely an irregular fighter, the partisan. In
Schmitt’s view, it is this figure that, besides the spatial revolutions,
heralded the end of the international order between the European
sovereign states. Who, then, is the partisan? Like the pirate, the
partisan is not an enemy who fights in the open but a secret enemy.
Unlike the regular fighter, he does not wear a uniform. He does not
follow the traditional rules of war, including the decisive distinc549
550
551
552
Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 77.
Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 77.
Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 71.
Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 77.
179
tions between the state and its army and the society and its members.
He refuses to make a distinction between the state of war and the
state of peace. In fact, he abandons all the criteria of the conventional enmity of controlled and bracketed war: “The modern partisan expects neither law nor mercy from the enemy.”553 From the
conventional enmity, he has moved into the realm of “real enmity”,
progressing gradually “up to reciprocal annihilation”.554 Nevertheless, the partisan is not like the pirate because the pirate’s deeds are
focused on private gain. The partisan is an absolutely political figure.
According to Schmitt, this figure appeared for the first time
when the Spanish nationalists fought against Napoleon’s forces during
1808–1813 in the name of national self-determination: “The partisan of the 1808 Spanish guerrilla war was the first who dared to
fight irregularly against a modern, regular army.”555 Characteristic
of this first as well as almost all the partisans in the history of the
West, is their telluric nature, that is to say, their ties to the soil, to the
indigenous population, and to the particularity of the land.556 Their
aim is to protect the homeland and the household against a foreign
invader, which is why Schmitt calls them autochthonous. The aim
of the land-bound partisans is, in other words, the same as that of
the armies in war during the jus publicum Europaeum: to compel the
enemy to retreat beyond the borders of one’s own country. In Schmitt’s
view this holds true in the case of the Spanish partisans but it holds
true as regards the partisans of the Tyrolean rebellion of 1809, the
Russian partisans of the war of 1812, the partisans of the Second
World War and the partisan struggles of Mao Tse-tung, Ho Chiminh, and Fidel Castro as well. To be sure, the three last cases cannot
be included in the ones in which partisans are fighting for the homeland against foreign invaders only. In these cases, partisans were also
553
554
555
556
180
Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 17.
Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 17.
Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 12.
Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 24.
fighting against internal enemies, defined in terms of the class adversary and the supporter of a wrong ideology. Nevertheless, even
they remained rooted into the soil of their own country.557
According to Schmitt, however, there exists another kind of
partisan as well. His point of departure is not a homeland and a
household, but a universal philosophical idea. For him, the liberation of one’s own country is not enough. What is needed is an
“international civil war”,558 that is to say, an ideological revolution
in countries all over the world. It is precisely his universal philosophical idea, his ideology, which legitimates his commitment to
this world-wide aggression. In Schmitt’s vocabulary, such a partisan
is no longer the autochthonous but the absolute partisan. According to him, V. I. Lenin is a paradigmatic figure of such a partisan.559
557 In fact, this telluric irregular fighter is the third figure of an enemy in Schmitt.
In The Concept of the Political (1932), he had distinguished between two
enemies, the political enemy and the enemy who surpasses the framework of
the political (absolute enemy). In Theory of the Partisan (1963), he makes a
distinction between as many as three kinds of enemies. Firstly, there exists a
conventional enemy. He belongs to the epoch of cabinet wars between princes
and their mercenaries. Of these wars Schmitt uses the term war game
(Kriegsspiel). In contrast to war game, there appears the real enemy of a serious
war (“the Spanish partisan reestablished the seriousness of war”), which signifies warfare between peoples and their citizen-armies: “The enemy became
once again a real enemy, and war became a real war.” Schmitt, Theory of the
Partisan, p. 74. The absolute enemy – a world revolutionary – surpasses even
this framework but at the cost of becoming abstract beyond recognition.
558 Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 45.
559 In Lenin’s background, Schmitt perceives the Hegelian philosophy of history,
which he considers even more dangerous as an ideological weapon in the hands
of such a “professional revolutionary” like Lenin than Rousseau’s philosophy
in the hands of the Jacobins: “This historical-philosophical weapon fell into
the hands of Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, even if the two German scholars
were more the revolution’s theoreticians than its activists. Only with a professional Russian revolutionary, only with Lenin, did Marxism become, as a
doctrine, today’s world-historical power.” Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 44.
181
He is absolute because he has only the absolute enemy – the bourgeois. The bourgeois is the absolute enemy because the aim of the
world revolutionary partisan is to destroy his enemy completely,
consisting of all the supporters of the wrong, bourgeois ideology:
“The war of absolute enmity knows no bracketing.”560 Therefore,
even more than the appearance of the partisan per se, the appearance of the absolute partisan signified an end to the jus publicum
Europaeum. Despite this, even the absolute partisan is not a criminal for Schmitt. The absolute partisan is a political figure. Even
though his object of political commitment is not a state (soldier) or
a homeland (telluric partisan), he is not without commitment. The
object of his commitment is a party, which indicates that he is a
political figure in a particularly intense way, because no state has
ever demanded of its people such total commitment as the modern
revolutionary party does. In fact, no state is able to bind its own
members in such a definite way561 – not at least before it becomes
a totalitarian state. In Schmitt’s view, however, for a state to become
totalitarian presupposes precisely the domination of the party and
not that of the state. In totalitarianism the state becomes, as Schmitt
emphasizes, an instrument of the party.562 This happened in Russia
in 1917 and similarly in Germany in 1933, after which Schmitt,
previously a citizen of what he called a quantitative total state, became a member of a totalitarian party.
* * *
The Second World War proved that it does not matter whether the state
is total in the qualitative or the quantitative sense, whether it is ruled by
a totalitarian party acting in the name of the people or governed by a
560 Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 47.
561 Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 20.
562 Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 20.
182
liberal elite elected democratically. Total war resulted in both cases. If
the jus publicum set visible boundaries on war, total war did not recognize any limits. It was directed against both civilians and soldiers and a
state of war became indistinguishable from state of peace. In the framework of the jus publicum the states recognized the sovereignty of the
opponent regardless of the state of war. According to Hegel, the bond of
mutual recognition was a sign of the possibility of peace.563 Now this
bond had vanished. The recognized just enemy ( justus hostis) had become once again a non-recognizable criminal (hostis criminalis). This is
not considered at all strange in the case of a totalitarian state. Nevertheless, the total war can also be seen as a logical conclusion to the democratic development of Western countries, which has prepared the way
for a “democratic people’s war”.564 In a democracy, every citizen is a
soldier or at least a military resource and thus nobody can be considered
to remain outside the military operations. Immanuel Kant had said
that the peoples do not wage war, the states do.565 From Schmitt’s perspective, such a formulation which corresponds to the jus publicum,
belongs to the epoch of monarchs, of the conventional wars and war
games (Kriegsspiel) between princes. In these wars, the confrontation
takes place as a duel between representative states understood as public
persons (magni homines), whereas the non-political private individuals
563 Or as Hegel wrote: “States reciprocally recognize each other as states also in
war, i. e., in the state of affairs when rights disappear and force and chance
hold sway, and this recognition remains a bond wherein they esteem each
other in and for itself, so that in war, war itself is determined as passing away.
It implies therefore the provisio of the international law according to which
the possibility of peace must be retained during it (and so, for example, that
envoys must be respected), and, in general, that war should be not waged
against domestic institutions or against the peaceful private and family life,
i. e., against private persons.” G. W. F. Hegel, Elements of the Philosophy of
Right. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1991, § 338.
564 Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 35.
565 See Kant, Rechtslehre, pp. 164–165.
183
remain outside the battle. In democracies, in which the state and the
public sphere are identified with society and the private sphere, the antagonists are instead the depersonalized peoples consisting of each individual. As Ernst Jünger points out, only monarchs resort to partial
mobilization, a democracy demands a total mobilization.566 Rousseau
still thought that the state, even a democratic one, can be destroyed
“without killing a single one of its members”,567 but the epoch of democratic nation-states has proved that to destroy a state presupposes that
all of its citizens are killed.
According to Schmitt, however, the criminalization of the enemy
and the ensuing total war are not primarily due to democracy, but to
the criminalization of a certain kind of warfare, namely the so-called
“unjust war”, in the international law since the Treaty of Versailles.
Schmitt’s genealogy of total war recognizes admittedly several origins,
for instance, the Anglo-Saxon conception of international law derived
from the war at sea (“it is the English sea warfare that generated the
kernel of a total world view”568) and the ideological justification of war
in the case of a partisan. In both of these cases, the principles defined by
the juridical founders of modern international law – Ayala, Gentili and
Zouche – who divorced the question of bellum justum proper from the
problem of justa causa belli, thus turning war into a mutual relation
between sovereign states in which justi et aequales hostes confronted each
566 It is precisely this involvement that according to Ernst Jünger distinguished
the partial mobilization peculiar to monarchies from the modern total mobilization: “There is no longer any movement whatsoever – be it that of the
homework at her sewing machine – without at least indirect use for the battlefield.” Jünger, “Total Mobilization”, p. 126.
567 This was possible for the reason that Rousseau, despite his democratic mind,
made a clear distinction between the citizens of the state who carry weapons
– those who kill and can be killed – and the mere human beings whose life
“no one has any longer the right to take”. For the war “is not a relation between men, but between states”. Rousseau, The Social Contract, pp. 56–57.
568 Schmitt, “Total Enemy”, p. 33.
184
other indiscriminately, are called in question.569 But for Schmitt, it was
above all the attitude of the victors, especially of the United States, in
1918 and the subsequent evolution of international law under the auspices of the League of Nations that brought about the demise of these
aspects in international law. Firstly, the Treaty of Versailles broke with
the tradition of direct negotiations between the victors and the vanquished. The result of war was no longer a peace treaty but a mere
suspension of military operations. Secondly, the League of Nations renewed the distinction between just and unjust wars, condemning especially the declaration of war as an unjust act of “aggression”. Thereby,
and especially as a consequence of the Kellog-Briand Pact (1928), wars
became either criminal acts against the international law and morality
or police measures implementing them:
It [war] is an illegal thing. Hereafter, when two nations engage in armed
conflict, either one or both of them must be wrongdoers – violators of this
general treaty law [the Kellogg pact]. We no longer draw a circle about them
and treat them with the punctilios of the duelist’s code. Instead, we denounce
them as law-breakers.570
In other words, war as such became criminalized and dehumanized and
thus abolished as a legitimate means of politics. This did not signify, of
course, that killing, plundering and annihilation came to an end. Because killing now took place under the auspices of justice it even intensified.571 The symmetrical confrontation between “just and equal enemies” was replaced with an asymmetrical relationship between the
international police and the international criminals, between “police
569 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 124.
570 Quoted in Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 307. The quotation is from
the so called Stimson Doctrine, linked juridically to the 1928 Kellogg Pact
and elaborated by Secretary of State Henry Stimson on January 7, 1932 in
notes to Japan and China.
571 See Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, chapter 4 “Transformation of the Meaning
of War”.
185
bombing” and “illegal and immoral resistance of a few delinquents,
troublemakers, pirates, and gangsters”.572 This being the case, war was
deprived, in Schmitt’s view, of its dignity and honor. Respectively, the
enemy lost its status as legitimate and respected. He became a felon in
the most extreme criminal sense, the enemy of humanity – humanity as
it was defined by those states which were authorized to enforce their
notions of the human and the inhuman.
Even if the introduction of a distinction between just and unjust
wars, between criminal acts of “international troublemakers” and “police measures” taken by “defenders of peace”, signified a reintroduction
of the medieval concept of justa causa belli, the justness of the cause, of
course, was no longer backed by Christian theological doctrine or defended by medieval means – even though modern bombers use their
arms against a hostile population vertically “as St George used his lance
against the dragon”.573 Theological arguments were replaced with “humanitarian-ideological” ones, with the consequence that the perception
of the enemy changed from a heathen to be converted to a subhuman to
be destroyed by the modern means of total annihilation.574 According
to Schmitt, however, universalism is not merely a dangerous weapon in
the hands of those who rule, equipped with modern means of mass
destruction. It is also a source of a widespread human delocalization
and disorientation (Entortnung). It evades positive determination and
orientation to the extent that these presuppose concrete topoi, that is to
say, concrete land-locked spaces with internal borders and boundaries.
Perhaps it is possible to think in universal terms, but it is impossible to
act in those terms because “action is inevitably inscribed in a determinate time and space”, as Julien Freund writes in his interpretation on
Schmitt.575 From the perspective of action, universal concepts are mere
572 Carl Schmitt, Die Wendung zum diskriminierenden Kriegsbegriff (1938). Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1988, p. 40.
573 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 321.
574 See Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, pp. 320–321.
575 Freund, “Schmitt’s Political Thought”, p. 34.
186
abstractions located in a void. The appropriation of air space had already displaced the idea of horizon, but only abstract universalism paves
the way for the total disorientation which pushes humanity towards
“international civil war”, that is, towards a continuous state of exception at the zone of indiscrimination between war and peace. But Schmitt
did not believe that this development would lead to total disorder. Although the epoch of the states and with it the international order of the
jus publicum Europaeum is over, a new nomos of the earth will appear:
Undoubtedly the old nomos disappears and with it is left behind the whole
system of measures, norms and relations. Yet the consequence of this is not
the non-measure or nomos-inimical nothingness. Righteous measures are born
and meaningful relations are formed even on the grounds of the fiercest battle
of the new and the old forces.576
According to Schmitt, the foundation of this measure, of the new nomos of the earth, can be provided either by the worldwide domination
of one great power, presumably the United States, or by a plurality of
so-called large spaces (Großräume). Schmitt approved only the latter
alternative, which had the Monroe doctrine as its model. In this order
resembling the jus publicum, the earth is still divided into autonomous
political entities but these entities, including their central areas and
spheres of interests, are larger than the individual states.577 Moreover,
this order is no longer Eurocentric but a genuine global plurality.
576 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 59. Translation altered.
577 On the large spaces see for instance Carl Schmitt, “Völkerrechtliche Großraumordnung mit Interventionsverbot für raumfremde Mächte” (1941). In
Staat, Großraum, Nomos. Arbeiten aus den Jahren 1916–1969. Berlin: Duncker
& Humblot 1995, pp. 269–371. Schmitt admits that the Monroe doctrine
includes universalistic claims, especially after Wilson’s and Roosevelt’s reinterpretation that justifies “pan-interventionist world ideology” and “capitalist
imperialism”. But Schmitt rejects these claims, affirming instead the original
principle of non-interference by the European states in the affairs of the
American continent – but merely inasmuch as the United States likewise
refrains from interference in the affairs of the European continent.
187
188
7. Political Theology
All significant concepts of the modern theory of
the state are secularized theological concepts
Carl Schmitt, Political Theology
All of Schmitt’s central political concepts designate the constitutive outside, the founding other. His concept of the political explicates it, but
also his other political concepts indicate it, including decision, people’s
will and appropriation. This fact, together with Schmitt’s thesis of secularization according to which all significant concepts of the modern
theory of the state are secularized theological concepts,578 has apparently caused a great deal of confusion. According to Heinrich Meier, for
instance, understanding Schmitt presupposes that his political thought
has to be reduced to the theological dogma of divine Revelation. Meier
sees divine Revelation as constituting the “ultimate authority” and “absolute foundation” of Schmitt’s thought: “There can be no doubt of the
fundamental precedence of the theological for Schmitt.”579 If Schmitt
is an anti-immanent thinker, as Meier believes, it is because of his ultimate belief in divine Revelation. All metaphysics of immanence – like
Hegel’s, for whom the other never enters from the outside into the im578 In Schmitt’s view, all significant concepts of the modern theory of the state
are secularized theological concepts “not only because of their historical development – in which they were transferred from theology to the theory of
the state, whereby, for example, the omnipotent God became the omnipotent lawgiver – but also because of their systematic structure”. Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 36.
579 Heinrich Meier, The Lesson of Carl Schmitt: Four Chapters on the Distinction
between Political Theology and Political Philosophy. Chicago: The University
of Chicago Press 1988, p. 77.
189
manence of development – would entail the denial of God’s sovereignty.
In the same manner, the denial of the figure of the enemy, says Meier,
assumes that one must forget the fundamental theological dogma of the
sinfulness of the world and of man.580 Evil and enmity enter the world
along with original sin – and the belief that a human being could independently destroy all evil and create a paradise-like world by means of
his natural reason and his own judgment is nothing but antichristian
hubris. For this reason, the existence of the enemy is not in Meier’s view
primarily the precondition of the so-called pluriversum.581 Rather, it is
the state of things in the world as ordained by God in the beginning. To
deny this fact would mean that one sets himself against Him and on the
side of the Antichrist.
Meier is right perhaps concerning Schmitt’s innermost intentions –
at least in part. Schmitt does not understand Hegel’s metaphysical immanentism, which is not capable of definite “disjunctive judgment” but
always returns, after some dialectical tricks, to the endless logic of conjunction. I must also admit that Schmitt’s insistence concerning the
necessity of the enemy seems to be somewhat incomprehensible without reference to the Revelation, in which history is identified with the
deferral of Satan’s rule until the Judgment Day. If the enemy is absent,
then the world has either already ended – which is an absurdity – or it is
totally dominated by Satan. Moreover, the fact that Schmitt questions
all neutralizations can be nicely understood precisely from this perspective, since they presumably refer only to the Devil’s tricks. By means of
neutralization, evil masks its evilness and poses as the good, whereas the
real good – the political figure of Jesus Christ – loses its strength in this
historical battle. Besides, also Schmitt himself frequently identifies in
man’s belief in his limitless capacity to dominate and master nature and
580 Meier, The Lesson, p. 78.
581 For Meier, Schmitt is certainly not the “last conscious representative of Jus
publicum Europaeum” as Schmitt said of himself. See Schmitt, Ex Captivitate
Salus, p. 79.
190
himself the work of the Antichrist. As early as in his book Nordlicht
(1916) on the poet Theodor Däubler Schmitt writes:
The uncanny [unheimlich] magician creates the world anew, he changes the
appearance of the earth and dominates nature. Nature serves him for whatever reason – for the reason of the satisfaction of any artificial needs, for the
reason of ease and comfort. Those who let him deceive them see only the
magnificent effects; nature seems to be vanquished, the age of security brought
in; everything has been taken care of; cunning prediction and planning replace Providence; the Antichrist ‘makes’ Providence as he makes any other
institution.582
The Antichrist wins if he is able to convince the people that the moral
distinction between good and evil and finally, the political distinction
of friend and enemy have been surpassed. After that, there will be no
more real differences – and because of total neutralization, a complete
value-freedom will prevail. Everything will have the same measure of
non-measure. For Schmitt, the slogan of the Antichrist is precisely commensurability. In commensurability all meaningful existence ends and
indifference begins. Ultimately, even reality as real is called in question
and the confusion becomes insurmountable.583
Christ, Antichrist and History
In the context of modern secularized thought, Friedrich Nietzsche
was perhaps the first to create the Antichrist as a real philosophical
concept. But contrary to Schmitt, for Nietzsche this figure represents the very counter-force of commensurability and indifference.
582 Carl Schmitt, Theodor Däublers ‘Nordlicht’. Drei Studien über die Elemente,
den Geist und die Aktualität des Werkes (1916). Berlin: Duncker & Humblot
1991, p. 62.
583 On the relationship between the domination of nature, meaninglessness and
the Antichrist, see McCormick, Carl Schmitt’s Critique, pp. 85–89.
191
Nietzsche sees in Christianity itself the force that paves the way for
the death of God and for the birth of the last man, who levels all
differences and destroys all meaningful existence. For Nietzsche, it
is precisely Christianity, and not the Antichrist, that is to be conceived as instinctive hatred of every reality,
as flight into the ‘ungraspable’, into the ‘inconceivable’, as antipathy
towards every form, every special and temporal concept, towards everything firm, all that is custom, institution, Church, as being at home in
a world undisturbed by reality of any kind.584
Of course, it must be acknowledged that unlike Schmitt, Nietzsche
does not identify Christianity with the Church. On the contrary,
he considers them, at least to a certain degree, antithetical: “Precisely that which is Christian in the ecclesiastical sense is anti-Christian in essence.”585 In Nietzsche’s view, true Christianity is that of
the Gospel and the whole doctrine of the Church is denied in it.586
True Christianity does not erect institutions or form hierarchies.
Instead, it believes in the redemptive power of evangelical practice.
Ultimately, it is not even faith that is at stake,587 since the “glad
tidings” can be reduced to one formula: eine neue Praktik, a new
practice in which the Kingdom of God is realized on earth.588 However, the secret of the power of this “new practice”, as Nietzsche understood it, does not lie in its power but rather in its powerlessness:
“Not to defend one’s self, not to show anger, not to lay blames […]
584 Friedrich Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ. In Twilight of the Idols and The AntiChrist. London: Penguin Books 1972, § 29.
585 Friedrich Nietzsche, The Will to Power. London: Vintage Books 1968, § 159.
586 Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ, § 33.
587 Christianity requires “neither the doctrine of a personal God, nor that of
sin, nor that of immorality, nor that of redemption, nor that of faith […]”
Nietzsche, The Will to Power, § 211.
588 “The Gospels had been, in fact, the incarnation, the fulfilment, the realization of this ‘kingdom of God’.” Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ, § 40.
192
On the contrary, to submit even to the Evil One – to love him
[…]”589 It is precisely this powerlessness (die Unfähigkeit), understood as the most extreme form of nihilism, and not the power of
the Church, which forced him to re-evaluate the Christian values.
However, in the last analysis it is quite obvious that Nietzsche
does not wage war against Christ and the primitive Christianity in
the name of priests and the Church. Although the Church is not
powerless, its power is purely negative – it is based on resentment.
It cannot but judge existence. Instead of the negative power of the
Church and the powerless practice of Christ, Nietzsche speaks on
behalf of another martyr, Dionysus. Dionysus does not judge existence but redeems it like Christ. But contrary to Christ whose
redemption comprises only the decadent and powerless forms of
life, Dionysus redeems life in its totality. Dionysus does not deny
any dimension of life, not even its thoroughly violent nature. In
Dionysus, Nietzsche sees the redeemer of existence in toto:
Dionysus versus the “Crucified”: there you have the antithesis. It is not
a difference in regard to their martyrdom – it is a difference in the
meaning of it. Life itself, its eternal fruitfulness and recurrence, creates
torment, destruction, the will to annihilation. In the other case, suffering – the “Crucified as the innocent one” – counts as an objection to
this life, as a formula for its condemnation. – One will see that the
problem is that of the meaning of suffering: whether a Christian meaning or a tragic meaning. In the former case, it is supposed to be a path to
a holy existence; in the latter case, being is counted as holy enough to
justify even a monstrous amount of suffering.590
Neither the crucified Jesus (“God on the cross is a curse to life”),
nor the Church, the antithesis of Christ, but the dismembered
Dionysus is the promise of life: “It will be eternally reborn and
return again from destruction.”591 Only this return, the eternal
589 Nietzsche, The Anti-Christ, § 35.
590 Nietzsche, The Will to Power, § 1052.
591 Nietzsche, The Will to Power, § 1052.
193
recurrence of the same, can provide life with meaning again – the
meaning destroyed by Christianity.
Although Schmitt was a Christian, he nevertheless seems to
share some of Nietzsche’s views. Firstly, he juxtaposes Church and
Christ, praising the former and maintaining that we should make
Christ’s “influence harmless in the social and political spheres”.592
Secondly, he speaks about the repetitive nature of violence and
emphasizes the violent origin of all human order. However, for
him the violent origin of order does not signify an eternal recurrence of the same but the recurrence of difference and thereby of
history:
Adam and Eve had two sons, Cain and Abel. This is how the history of
humanity begins. This is what the father of all things looks like. Here is
the dialectical tension that keeps world history in motion – and world
history is not yet come to its end.593
In fact, all of Schmitt’s conceptual configurations from sovereign
and enemy to appropriation can be conceived as representatives of
this dialectical tension, as engines of historical motion. This also
explains why the influence of Christ should be made harmless in
the social and political spheres. Schmitt understands that Christ’s
message is pacifist and universalistic in nature. Yet, both pacifism
and universalism lead towards the end of all battles, that is to say,
towards the disappearance of dialectical tension and thereby towards the end of history. Are we thus forced to conclude that Schmitt
himself is antichristian? This does not follow, because for him Christianity is not a religion which would imitate a powerless Christ but
a religion of the victorious Church, which transforms the powerlessness of Christ into a form of power representing Him as “reigning, ruling and conquering”.594
592 Schmitt, Glossarium, p. 243
593 Schmitt, Ex Captivitate Salus, pp. 89–90.
594 Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 31.
194
This being the case, Schmitt’s Christianity resembles in
Nietzsche’s interpretation that of the Church and especially that of
St Paul. For Nietzsche, it was precisely Paul who transformed the
powerlessness of the “glad tidings” into a form of power and doctrine of judgment – into the form of the Church. In his view, Paul
re-erected on a grand scale that which Christ had annulled through
his way of living: “The attempt to destroy priests and theologians
culminated, thanks to Paul, in a new priesthood and theology – in
a new ruling order and a church.”595 Admittedly, Schmitt reads
even the Gospel as if it were a testimony of the necessity of violence
and of history. For instance, Schmitt claims that the word enemy
(echthros) in the famous phrase from the Sermon on the Mount
“love your enemies, and pray for them that persecute you” refers
only to a private foe and not to a real enemy:
The often quoted ‘Love your enemies’ (Matt. 5: 44; Luke 6: 27) reads
“diligite inimico vestros”, agapate tous echthrous hûmon, and not “diligite
hostes vestros”. No mention is made of the political enemy. Never in
the thousand-year struggle between Christians and Moslems did it occur to a Christian to surrender rather than defend Europe out of love
toward the Saracens or Turks.596
In the seventh nomos-corollary to The Nomos of the Earth, Schmitt
again refers to the Sermon on the Mount, in order to disclose the
violent origin of the Christian world: “Blessed are the meek: for
they shall inherit the earth” (Matt. 5: 5). For Schmitt, important
here is not that the meek and humble are those who inherit the
earth but that they inherit (kleronomesousin) it, which in Schmitt’s
view is a mode of appropriation.597
595 Nietzsche, The Will to Power § 167.
596 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 29. Schmitt does not take into account here that also the Satan is echthros in the New Testament (see for instance Matt. 13: 39) – and, presumably, the Satan is not only a private foe for
a Christian, but rather the public enemy par excellence.
597 See Schmitt, “Appropriation”, p. 328, note 9.
195
The above notwithstanding, it is Paul to whom Schmitt repeatedly returns, in particular to his Second Letter to Thessalonians.
In Meier’s view, Schmitt’s entire spiritual existence can be understood in the light of this Letter. It explains his insistence on the
motion of history and the fear of its end. In Nietzsche’s view, the
end of history – the death of God – signifies the end of meaning
and the triumph of the “most despicable man”, a man “who has
invented happiness”, the last man.598 As we have seen, also Schmitt
warns us about the false belief in mundane happiness. According
to Meier, however, Schmitt’s battle against the end of history has to
be examined, not in light of the meaningfulness of human existence as such, but in light of the eschatological struggle against the
anomos – “the lawless one” – of the Second Letter to Thessalonians.
In Meier’s view, in order to understand this struggle, three suppositions concerning history have to be taken into consideration:
Resurrection, historical interim, and the Day of Judgment. Because the Day of Judgment, that is to say, the final triumph of
anomos – Schmitt’s Antichrist – and the second parousia of Christ
are not yet at hand, mankind lives in the era of the interim, and
more precisely, in the era of a battle between so-called katechon and
anomos.599 Also katechon is a figure of the Second Thessalonians
(2: 3–11) and its function is to restrain (katheon) the “lawless one”
before the second coming of Christ. At that time anomos will appear in its final form and the Lord will extinguish it by the manifestation of His coming. Until that happens, however, anomos,
“whose coming is according to the working of Satan”, performs
deceitful wonders that mislead people from the truth. Nevertheless, all this is part of God’s great plan: “God sendeth them a working of error.” Its purpose is to try people’s belief and to separate the
wheat from the chaff in order to judge the latter.
598 Friedrich Nietzsche, Thus Spoke Zarathustra. New York: Modern Library 1995,
I § 5.
599 See Meier, The Lesson, pp. 161–163.
196
For Schmitt, argues Meier, the greatest swindle of anomos and
thereby also the greatest test of God, is that history would have
already ended – and that from now on all battles against anomos
would be useless and superfluous. Yet, this cannot be true, because
the second coming of Christ would also mean the end of the world,
but the end of the world is not yet at hand. Katechon must exist. In
his diary Schmitt in fact notes: “One must be able to name katechon
for every epoch of the past 1932 years. The position has never gone
unoccupied otherwise we would no longer exist.”600 It is the faith
in katechon, says Meier, which helps Schmitt to preserve his faith in
the truth of the Revelation and to remain in harmony with himself.601 It does not offer only an answer to the question as to why
there is still history – a delay of parousia – but it also protects the
meaningfulness of historical action inasmuch as the interim is simultaneously the era of a great test. In it the real believer is distinguished from those who have chosen unrighteousness – and doubtlessly Schmitt wanted to be counted amidst the righteous. From
this perspective, Schmitt’s skepticism of Christ’s pacifism and universalism become even more understandable. Both pacifism and
universalism imply a destruction of the difference between katechon
and anomos in history. But it is not possible for Christ to have won
given that parousia takes place only in the end of history. Therefore
both pacifism and universalism must be, in the final analysis, clever
tricks of the Antichrist by means of which he pursues a total domination of the historical world. For this reason, everything that opposes the coming of this worldly Messianic kingdom, this “new
practice”, in which the Kingdom of God is realized on earth, represents katechon for Schmitt. In his view, for instance the Holy
Roman Empire, as well as Emperor Rudolph II and Emperor Franz
Joseph have been such restrainers. The greatest katechon in the his-
600 Quoted in Meier, The Lesson, p. 161.
601 Meier, The Lesson, p. 162.
197
tory of Christianity, however, has been the Catholic Church, the
“Bride of Christ”. It has not only restrained the impact of anomos
and thereby of the Antichrist, but also neutralized Christ’s influence in the social and political spheres. It has done it by representing Christ – by giving His idea form and visibility.602
Are we thus forced to conclude that Schmitt is a Christian
through and through – a Catholic in the ecclesiastical sense – and
Nietzsche antichristian in pagan sense? Are we forced to conclude
that Schmitt affirms history, because he believes in the Revelation
according to which the end of history without the end of the world
can be nothing but a clever trick of the Antichrist – whereas
Nietzsche affirms eternal recurrence, because he sees the seed of the
end of history and thereby, the death of God and the birth of the
meaningless existence of the last man in the Christian concept of
history? Not necessarily. As far as I can see, Nietzsche’s return to
the pagan conception of eternal recurrence is not entirely faithful
to its pagan sources. For the Greeks, the eternal recurrence denoted the supreme and objective order of things, in nature as well
as in history, but for Nietzsche, as already Karl Löwith pointed
out, it must be willed and its task is to impose on man the ethical
principle of absolute responsibility. The whole concept of will is
rather un-Greek, but it becomes even more so if it is interpreted,
like Nietzsche does, in terms of creative willing. Creative willing
derives from the Judeo-Christian tradition, from the belief that the
world and man are created by God’s creative will.603 Moreover,
Nietzsche’s continuous emphasis on the distant future was alien to
the Greeks – but not at all to the Christians who have been waiting
for parousia since the end of the first century. In addition, for
Nietzsche, Dionysus represents above all a figure of redemption,
which reveals that he is pagan only in appearance, whereas the core
602 See Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, pp. 18–19.
603 Karl Löwith, Meaning in History. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press
1949, pp. 221–222.
198
is purely Judeo-Christian. Nietzsche’s Dionysus is even more Christian than Christ Himself insofar as Dionysus redeems the whole of
existence, not only its decadent manifestations.
What about Schmitt, then? Is he as traditional a Catholic as
Meier claims? As far as I can see, at least his late work alludes to
another direction. Throughout his career, Schmitt had criticized
the modern law (Gesetz) for being a mere artefact without substance. In the twenties he had criticized the Enlightenment and in
the thirties, Judaic thought for providing the intellectual origins of
this modern and nihilistic conception of law. However, in The Nomos
of the Earth (1950) Schmitt extended his criticism to the JudeoChristian tradition as a whole. He discovers in this tradition the
true origin of the law without substance inasmuch as he conceives
it as the result of the “theological distinctions between (Jewish) law
and (Christian) grace”.604 Actually, this attitude becomes manifest already in The Leviathan (1938). It is not only Judaism but the
Judeo-Christian tradition as a whole, which has paved the way for
the law without substance and consequently, for the decline of
Western political rationality, because this tradition has destroyed
the “original and natural unity” of the secular and the spiritual.605
Therefore, instead of the Judeo-Christian tradition, he turns in his
late work to Greek and Roman sources in which the original natural unity – the total concept of nomos – has not yet been obliterated. This does not necessarily signify that Schmitt had lost his
faith in the Revelation and that Meier’s interpretation is thoroughly
incorrect. Rather, it could mean that Schmitt wanted to direct
Christianity towards “paganism”,606 towards the total concept of
604 See Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 70, note 10.
605 Schmitt, The Leviathan, pp. 10–11.
606 On Schmitt’s position between Christianity and paganism see Wolfgang Palaver, “Carl Schmitt on Nomos and Space.” Telos No 106, Winter 1996, p. 124:
“Schmitt’s thinking represents a kind of sacrificial Christianity, between
paganism and the true biblical spirit.”
199
nomos – the nomos that already St Paul had inactivated (katargeo),
thus opening the door to the neutralization of every law: “We have
been inactivated [katargethemen] as regards nomos” (Romans 7: 6).607
* * *
From the perspective of the sociology of concepts it is insignificant
whether Schmitt uses biblical symbolism or thinks in terms of a real
believer – whether he was a genuine Christian or a Roman Catholic
who wanted to introduce pagan elements into Christianity. Perhaps a
completely non-antagonistic, technological world characterized by a
“Babylonian unity”, where things govern themselves without visible
authorities, is not only metaphorically but also de facto dominated by
the Antichrist. Be it as it may, all of Schmitt’s central concepts – the
sovereign decision, the constituent will of the people, the friend-enemy
distinction and the real possibility of war as the criterion of the political, land-appropriation as the concrete condition of possibility of the
spatial social, political and theological order (nomos) – can be understood, in my opinion, without any reference to a transcendent command of God coming from the absolute outside. Meier states repeat607 On the messianic suspension and inactivation (katargesis) of the law in Paul,
see Giorgio Agamben, Le temps qui reste. Un commentaire de l’Épitre aux
Romains. Paris: Payot & Rivages 2000. pp. 152–155. In Agamben’s view, the
messianic suspension of the law is the complete opposite of Schmitt’s sovereign suspension. In both cases the law is suspended, but in the sovereign state
of exception the suspended law is still active (although without significance,
without content), whereas in the messianic state of exception the suspension
of the law signifies its fulfilment at the moment of its inactivation (katargesis).
(According to Agamben, the law is fulfilled in katargesis in the same manner
as potency, dunamis, for Paul, is perfected in weakness, astheneia) All in all,
this means that Paul radicalizes the condition of the state of exception: “The
messianic fulfilment of the law is an Aufhebung of the [sovereign] state of
exception, an absolutization of the katargesis.” Agamben, Le temps, p. 169.
200
edly that only the “one thing is important” for Schmitt, but it was precisely Schmitt who, like Gentile, frequently asserted: Silete theologi in
munere alieno! In Meier’s view, Schmitt’s political thought has a theological foundation, but he does not take into account that Schmitt’s
theology is profoundly political.
201
202
8. A Philosophy of Concrete Life
The exceptional case has an especially decisive meaning
which exposes the core of the matter.
Carl Schmitt, The Concept of the Political
It is time to return to our initial question concerning the metaphysical
character of Schmitt’s thought. As we saw in the beginning of the book,
Schmitt’s metaphysics is based on a conviction that the modern
Weltanschauung entails the absolutization of immanence. Given that
this tendency is, for Schmitt, eo ipso evil – inasmuch as it dissolves all
moral and political dualisms – it is conceivable that his central concepts
can be described as counter-concepts to this tendency. Against it, Schmitt
poses transcendence, not in the sense of a substantial foundation of
order but in the sense of openness of every order. For Schmitt, concrete
political acts and events are the instances of this openness. As long as
they exist – and Schmitt believes that they exist as long as human being
exists – they ceaselessly resist the closure of immanence. However, these
acts and events are not only events of resistance but also constitutive
events, that is to say, founding moments of order. This is why Schmitt’s
central political concepts are not only counter-concepts, signifying the
entry of the outside, but simultaneously ground concepts. For Schmitt,
it is the moment of the opening up of order which constitutes order.
From the perspective of the closure of immanence, as Schmitt perceives
it, these moments appear as impossible exceptions and unreal miracles
but for him it is precisely these – by no means impossible and unreal –
exceptions and miracles which constitute the order of human things.
In Political Theology this real miracle – the miracle of the real – is the
sovereign decision. Through it, the “new and alien” interrupts the gapless
unity of the positivist legal system as well as the endless parliamentary
203
discussion based on the “metaphysics of indecision”. The sovereign decision comes from the outside, but so does the constituent act of the
people and the enemy, this “other and strange” of the self-enclosed
humanity in a completely uniform world. The enemy brings back the
dynamic tension to where history seems to end and where the banal
factuality of being alive (a “mere dynamic” of life) has replaced all meaningful existence. Moreover, although it was published after Schmitt’s
turn towards the thinking of “concrete order” and, as I would like to say,
towards a more immanent orientation, we can also find a concept which
can be defined in terms of the outside in The Nomos of the Earth. This time
the event – the constitutive exteriority – is land-appropriation, the UrAkt of every social and political order. It is not solely a reminder of the
fact that only God can give without appropriating. It is also a reminder
of the fact that the universal history is not concluded, as Kojève had
proposed, but remains “open and fluid”.608 It is a remainder that conditions are not “fixed and ossified”, that human beings and peoples have
“not only a past but also a future”, and that, as long as man exists, a “new
nomos will arise in the perpetually new manifestations of world-historical
events”.609
It is this event of the outside, this constitutive other that is Schmitt’s
concrete. To be sure, it can be claimed, as Jacques Derrida does, that
Schmitt’s concept of the concrete is a mere abstraction: “It is always
exceeded, overtaken – let us say haunted – by the abstraction of its
608 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 78.
609 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 78. Admittedly, Schmitt, like Kojève,
thought that the end of history is a real possibility today, but contrary to
Kojève, Schmitt did not perceive this end in the satisfaction of the human
desire for recognition. He perceived it in the real possibility of humanity to
commit a suicide by means of the developed techniques of total annihilation:
“This death would be the culmination of universal history, a collective reality
analogous to the Stoic conception according to which the suicide of an individual represents the culmination of his liberty.” Carl Schmitt, “L’unité du
monde II” (1956). In Du politique: “légalité et légitimité” et autres essays. Paris:
Pardès 1990, p. 246.
204
spectre.”610 Inasmuch as Schmitt conceptualizes the concrete, he always
speculates on it – thus losing the concreteness of the concrete. Therefore, Schmitt’s concrete remains, “in its purity”, “out of reach, inaccessible, unreachable, indefinitely deferred, thereby inconceivable to the
concept (Begriff )”.611 As Hegelian as Derrida’s critique of Schmitt’s philosophy of concrete life is, it at least forces us to pay attention to the
relationship between the concrete and the concept in Schmitt’s thinking. One way to elucidate this problem is, of course, to return to Schmitt’s
rejection of Hegel’s philosophy. In Meier’s view, as we have seen, Schmitt
rejects Hegel because in his philosophy, at least in his construction of
the philosophy of history, the other never enters from the outside into
the immanence of development. Schmitt indeed rejects Hegel’s philosophy of history because the unending process of the Hegelian world
spirit absorbs all interruptions into itself as immanent negations. But I
do not agree with Meier about the reason why Schmitt rejects Hegel.
According to Meier, Schmitt rejects Hegel because Hegel’s denial of the
other entering from the outside entails the denial of God’s sovereignty,
that is to say, the transcendent command of God. To my mind, however, Schmitt does not abandon Hegel because he believes in divine
Revelation, but because the Hegelian absorption makes all interruptions counterfeit. In Hegel’s philosophy, there is no genuine interruption and thereby, no space for an event of the concrete: “The essential
point is that an exception”, signifying the event, “never comes from the
outside into the immanence of development.”612 On the other hand,
Schmitt rejects Hegel’s philosophy because for the latter that which remains outside the concept – outside objective knowledge – is identical
to nothing. For Hegel, whatever does not make a difference in terms of
objective knowledge makes no difference at all.613 In Schmitt’s view,
610
611
612
613
Derrida, Politics of Friendship, p. 117.
Derrida, Politics of Friendship, p. 117.
Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 56.
See especially Hegel’s critique of immediacy in G. W. F. Hegel, Phenomenology of Spirit. Oxford: Oxford University Press 1977, pp. 58–66.
205
however, that which is outside objective knowledge is identical to nothing only from the perspective of rationalist schemes. From the perspective of the philosophy of concrete life, that which comes from the outside constitutes the foundation for the collective existence of human
beings. Therefore, Schmitt’s notion of the concrete is not a concept at
all, not at least in the Hegelian sense, but rather a “non-concept”, a
name for that what cannot have a name, a name for the meaningless
other, which nevertheless bestows existence with a meaning.614
If all concepts and reflections are powerless in the face of the concrete, how can one approach it? Presumably, it can only be experienced.
This is not to say that Schmitt would prefer “lived experience” to concepts and conceptual thinking. On the contrary, for him lived experience is as empty as it is for Hegel. In Schmitt’s view, lived experience is
the subjectivist response of a romantic to the tyranny of objective reason. Schmitt’s response consists instead of a concrete event outside both
“lived experience” and objective reason. This event can and presumably
must be experienced, but it cannot be reduced to subjective experience.
Admittedly, especially in the case of the enemy, Schmitt appears to have
an inclination to nullify this “non-conceptual” existence of the other.
For instance, in the end of Ex Captivitate Salus he seems to affirm the
Hegelian characterization of the concept absolutely: “In the reciprocity
of recognition of recognition lies the greatness of the concept.”615 Had
this been Schmitt’s last word, the enemy would amount to nothing but
a reflected image of the real enemy, a mere simulacrum. But Schmitt
immediately adds that the objectivity of the enemy is not objectivity of
a concept, but that of power: “The enemy is an objective power [objective Macht].”616 The enemy is a power, not a “metaphor or symbol”.617
As a concrete power, the enemy precedes reflection. It perturbs the world
614 In this sense, Carlo Galli’s remark that Schmitt “tries to think the unthinkable” is correct. Galli, “Carl Schmitt’s Anti-liberalism”, p. 1611.
615 Schmitt, Ex Captivitate Salus, p. 89.
616 Schmitt, Ex Captivitate Salus, p. 89.
617 Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 27.
206
of the reflecting self – its otherness and strangeness calls the self into
question.618 The power of the enemy disrupts my identity and no amount
of reflection can reduce its difference into an immanence of the same.
Certainly, this power can and, in Schmitt’s view, must become an object
of reflection because the self is the result of such reflection – the enemy
is a “measure of myself ”619 – but this can occur only after the event of
the political has taken place. Even then the intellect is not capable of
exhausting it completely, because the event is not prior to reflection
merely in a temporal sense but also and above all ontologically.620 The
618 “The enemy is a figure of our self-questioning.” Schmitt, Ex Captivitate Salus, p. 90.
619 Schmitt, Theory of the Partisan, p. 72.
620 For this reason, it is not completely erroneous to claim that Schmitt’s enemy
occupies structurally the same place as the “other” in Emmanuel Levinas’
ethics. In the same way as Schmitt’s enemy, this irreducible “other and strange”,
also Levinas’ other is irreducible, other and strange, “transcendent”. Moreover,
in the same way as Schmitt’s enemy calls the self into question, also Levinas’
other calls the self into question. Finally, in the same way as Schmitt’s enemy
is constitutive in relation to the self, also Levinas’ other is constitutive in
relation to the self, at least in relation to oneself as a moral self: “To discover
such an orientation”, orientation to the for-the-other, “in the I is to identify the
I with morality.” Emmanuel Levinas, “The Trace of the Other.” In Mark Taylor
(ed.), Deconstruction in Context. Chicago: University of Chicago Press 1986,
pp. 345–359. Of course, Schmitt and Levinas come to absolutely different
conclusions. According to Levinas, the otherness of the other does not pave the
way for enmity, as Schmitt maintains, but for responsibility – especially if the
relationship between the self and the other is asymmetrical. In Schmitt’s view,
however, it is precisely the asymmetrical relationship which brings about enmity, namely the worst possible enmity, that is, absolute hostility. Although we
cannot reduce the other into the same, we nevertheless can negotiate with him if
we are in a position to create a symmetrical relationship with him, that is to say,
to face the other as an other human being, as an equal. But if the symmetrical
relationship is transformed into asymmetry, the other is not necessarily regarded as the one which awakens my responsibility only but my hatred as well.
He can become my “god” as happens in Levinas’ ethics, but he can also become
less than a man, a sub-human – as Schmitt fears. He is no longer my enemy
in the sense of the enemy soldier. He becomes a felon, an absolute enemy that
must be “utterly destroyed”. Schmitt, The Concept of the Political, p. 36.
207
event precedes and is above reflection in the same way as the people’s
constituent will precedes and is above constitution. The event of the
concrete is the objective but unreflective and non-rational foundation
of all reflections and rationalizations.
But, as already said, we should not confuse that which Schmitt
calls the concrete with the empirical reality of classical empiricism in
which reality is understood to be a discrete given revealed in sensation.
Schmitt’s event of the concrete – a “constitutive historical event [Ereignis]”621 – is not something given in ordinary circumstances but something which disrupts the ordinary. The event is a concrete event only if
it is an exception, an extreme case. Moreover, the event of the concrete
is not something given but something to be produced. Inasmuch as reason is not capable of producing but only of reflecting, it is not reason
which produces the event. Rather, it is will, the sovereign’s pure and
irrational will to decide. It is precisely for this reason that Schmitt’s
philosophy of concrete life has been described as voluntarist and irrationalist. Nonetheless, its voluntarism is only apparent insofar as for him
the will is not a subjective faculty, but merely a conceptual substitute for
the void at the foundation of the event. It is the event which reveals the
subject of the event, and not the other way round: “The sovereign is
whoever decides what constitutes an exception.”622 Moreover, although
the event of the concrete negates and exceeds reason, Schmitt’s philosophy of concrete life is not without certain rationality. As argued in the
beginning of the book, it contains a specific rationality, namely that of
the extreme: “Everything must be forced to the extreme.”623 This is not
only because the extreme case, the event of the concrete, is more interesting than the rule, but also because it is the concrete condition of
possibility of every rule and order and thereby the ultimate foundation
of all rationality. It is the “event that founds an order”, not the other
way round. Besides, as all rationality, also the rationality of the extreme
621 Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 73.
622 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 43.
623 Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 59.
208
is based on the exclusion of certain irrationality. In Schmitt’s view, all
thought, which does not recognize that order is created out of disorder
and that rationality is based on an non-rational foundation, is itself
irrational. Only thought which does not eschew the exception and the
extreme case is genuinely rational, “human in the deepest sense”,624
signifying the rationality of meaning.
This is not to say that the event is after all included in the rationalist schemes as a negation resulting in a higher rationalist synthesis. According to Schmitt, the event is and remains outside all rationalist
schemes. The sovereign decision, the people’s constituent act, the enemy, as well as land-appropriation – all these events stay “outside and
above” the immanence of reason. In other words, there exists an insurmountable gap between the non-rational foundation of order and the
established order. Nevertheless, unlike for instance in the work of Georges
Bataille, negativity is not unbound in Schmitt’s thinking, because in the
final analysis it is subordinated to positive results, that is to say, to the
service of meaning and order. Bataille’s sovereignty refuses to submit to
any ends: “What is sovereign has no other end than itself.”625 Schmitt’s
sovereignty, instead, produces and guarantees a situation in its totality.
Hence, in place of Bataille’s free negativity there emerges Schmitt’s subordinated negativity – although from Schmitt’s perspective it would be
precisely Bataille’s negativity that is not free but tainted by romanticism
and as a consequence, thoroughly servile.626 However, the subordina624 Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 33.
625 Georges Bataille, Sovereignty. In The Accursed Share. Vol. 3. New York: Zone
Books 1993, p. 382.
626 In Schmitt’s view, Bataille’s unbound sovereignty would be absolutely bound
– or rather servile – inasmuch as Bataille defines sovereignty in terms of irrational and immediate moments of consumption: “The sovereign individual
consumes and does not labor.” Bataille, Sovereignty, p. 198. Although Bataille
states that such moments are nonproductive, miraculous and remain outside
“all knowledge”, from Schmitt’s perspective there would be nothing miraculous in such a moment, because the individual who irrationally and immediately consumes – “truly enjoys the products of this life” – is not free from
209
tion of negativity at the service of meaning and order does not signify
that Schmitt’s negativity could be included within order. In fact, the
event of the concrete can serve order only to the extent that it is and
remains exterior to it. The issue is not about a higher synthesis but
about the insurmountable togetherness of the founding event and the
established order, that is to say, the insurmountable togetherness of the
decision and the legal order, the constituent power and the constitution, the friend and the enemy, land-appropriation and concrete social
and political order. The decision creates the legal order, but it does not
cease to operate even after the order has been created: “That constitutive power has once been exercised does not abrogate or eliminate it.”627
It is always effectively present, resembling thus the psychoanalytical
notion of trauma in the origin of the ego, insofar as trauma goes on
marking the ego even after its formation. Besides, even though the event
is put into the service of norm and order, there exists no – previous or
subsequent – norm or order that could determine the nature of the
event: “Righteous measures are born and meaningful relations are
the system of production. On the contrary, he is an indispensable part of it,
even though he can subjectively have whatever experiences he likes and even
ultimately “dissolve into NOTHING”, as Bataille maintains. Only a romantic, this “metaphysical narcissist”, confuses his moods – whether or not they
have content – with reality and transforms it into a source for his imagination
and satisfaction. For Schmitt, it would not have been a surprise that Bataille
identifies sovereignty and sovereign consumption with the moments of laughter, tears, death, eroticism, and war – even war becomes a mere stimulant of
imagination for Bataille – in addition to celebrating chance (occassio) and
preferring play to seriousness in general. On the other hand, it would have
been a surprise for Schmitt if Bataille had not withdrawn from political action into the sphere of the mystical precisely at the moment when the times –
World War II – would have required the firmest of commitments. In Schmitt’s
view, romanticism and political activity are mutually exclusive: “Where political activity begins, political romanticism ends.” Schmitt, Political Romanticism, p. 160.
627 Schmitt, Verfassungslehre, p. 77.
210
formed”, but only on the grounds of the unrighteous and meaningless
event.628 There exists no measure, which could determine the nature of
the event of the concrete, because the event is the measureless primeval
measure (Ur-Maß) of all measures. The event is the extreme case, which
determines all other cases – including itself.
Therefore, it is not surprising for Derrida to maintain that Schmitt’s
event of the concrete is out of reach and inaccessible, at least from the
perspective of the concept (Begriff ). Contrary to Derrida’s claims, however, the event is not infinitely deferred – and this is the difference between Derrida and Schmitt.629 Schmitt’s event takes place, here and
now, but not in the modality of the concept. It takes place in the modality of an event, although this event is inaccessible to rationalist schemes
and ultimately, to conceptual thinking as such. Despite this, it is there,
it has been there – or at least we have to suppose that it has been there.
628 Schmitt, Land and Sea, p. 59. Translation altered.
629 For as we know, all of Derrida’s central philosophical concepts like différance,
supplement, and writing are also “non-concepts” that bring about a rupture
into the “systems”, especially those of metaphysics. However, they also bring
about a rupture into the very same systems as Schmitt’s concept of the concrete,
especially if we take into account Derrida’s openly political concepts including
justice, democracy to come, the other, and gift. They bring about a rupture into
the self-enclosed system of legal order (“justice”), into the institutional political order of liberal democracy (“democracy to come”), into the immanence of
humanity (the “other”) as well as into the self-sufficient system of exchange
(“gift”). In other words, point by point they correspond to Schmitt’s concepts
although in the place of justice there is the sovereign decision, in the place of
democracy to come there is people’s will, in the place of the other, well, there
is the other, namely the enemy, and in the place of gift there is appropriating
violence. In addition, in the same way as Schmitt’s concepts, also Derrida’s
concepts stand for the foundation – or rather, for the condition of possibility,
which is simultaneously the condition of impossibility to the extent that this
foundation cannot present itself – of legal order, democracy, humanity, and
exchange, even though this foundation is always already out of reach, or more
precisely, this always already unreachable and infinitely deferred is their very
“foundation.” Contrary to Derrida, however, Schmitt’s founding event is not
infinitely deferred but takes place here and now.
211
Why do we have to suppose that? We have to suppose it because if it is
not there, then nothing would be here, nothing would happen. The
rationalist schemes would already have taken over the whole human
existence, with the consequence that there would no longer be human
existence. Nothing new would take place. Humanity would already have
been paralyzed, that is to say, deprived of freedom and change:
Freedom is freedom of movement, nothing else. What would be terrifying is
a world in which there no longer existed an exterior (Ausland) but only a
homeland (Inland), no longer space (Spielraum) for measuring and testing
one’s strength freely.630
In order to exist, the event presupposes such an exterior. The event is
such an exterior, it comes from the outside. This outside is not Meier’s
absolute outside, not even outside as the opposite of inside – it is an
outside within inside, transcendence within immanence. It is, in other
words, the same outside as Derrida himself time and again constructs in
his own philosophy, although in Schmitt’s case this outside is not infinitely deferred. The outside occurs here and now, or rather, this occurrence here and now is the very outside.
For these reasons, it is no wonder that Schmitt’s thought is considered radical. This also explains why even left-wing radicalism has not
been spared from his influence: the possibility of revolution is not something infinitely deferred but something that takes place, here and now.
As a person, however, Schmitt was not radical, far from it. He was a
man of “fidelity, obedience, discipline, and honour”.631 How then is it
explicable that all his political concepts are revolutionary rather than
conservative? Why is he repeatedly emphasizing ruptures rather than
structures? The reason is simple. Only by emphasizing the non-rational
origins of meaning and order, it becomes possible to legitimate nonrational means of maintaining order. If the origins of meaning and order
are irreducibly non-rational, attempting to tame this irrationality by
630 Schmitt, Glossarium, p. 37.
631 Schmitt, Über die drei Arten, p. 52.
212
means of rationalist schemes is in vain. The “power of real life” always
“breaks through” such schemes – or through “the shell of a mechanism
that has become torpid by repetition”.632 How then is it possible to
tame the irrationality of the event, the violent power of real life? Surely,
it can be tamed by naked force which means that the order is maintained by the police and the military. But Schmitt did not believe in the
power of naked techniques for holding power: “No political system
can survive even a generation with only naked techniques of holding
power.”633 Instead, what is needed is a spiritual power that is not tainted
by the spirit of rationality. According to Schmitt, this power can be
discovered in myth. Myth does not attempt to rationalize the non-rational but merely to foster its ghost and to expose this ghost in a meaningful form – in the same vein as the Roman Church exposes the ghost
of Christ’s “irrationality” in a “meaningful” form.634 Indeed, it was precisely for his capacity for myth that Schmitt praised Mussolini who
declared in his speech of October 1922 in Naples, before the March to
Rome: “We have created a myth. This myth is a belief, a noble enthusiasm. Our myth is the nation, the great nation which we want to make
into a concrete reality for ourselves.”635
Schmitt’s solution to the problem of the non-rationality of the event
is by no means extraordinary. As a matter of fact, in their interesting
analysis of Nazism, Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe and Jean-Luc Nancy came
to the conclusion that the desire for an event and the search for myth go
always hand in hand.636 But we should ask, is every philosophy of the
event necessarily mythical? Or, is the reason why the philosophers of
the event decline towards mythical thinking due to the fact that usually
632 Schmitt, Political Theology, p. 13.
633 Schmitt, Roman Catholicism, p. 17.
634 It is from this perspective that we must approach Schmitt’s opinion according to which we should make Christ’s influence “harmless in the social and
political sphere”. Schmitt, Glossarium, p. 243.
635 Quoted in Schmitt, The Crisis, p. 75.
636 See Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe and Jean-Luc Nancy, Le myth nazi. Paris: Editions de l’Aube 2003, p. 15.
213
these philosophers count only extraordinary events as events? To my
mind, this is precisely the case. For these philosophers, the truth of
being, the core of the matter, can be found only in the extreme case – in
the extraordinary event – through which the rest of the world becomes
conceivable. For them, this case becomes the measure of being, although
the measure itself remains beyond every measure. For them, the extreme case becomes the criterion of judgment, that is to say, the criterion according to which they can judge the world as it normally is.
What, then, is the judgment they pass on the world as it normally is, on
everyday life? The judgment is that everyday life is banal to the bone. As
a matter of fact, it is the very seeking for the event, for transcendence
within immanence, which precipitates the conception that everyday life
is banal and meaningless. It is this seeking that generates the projection
of the senselessness of everydayness.
This holds true in the case of Schmitt, but it also holds true for
Heidegger. For both of these thinkers, only the exceptional event – the
event of the exceptional – can constitute a world of sense and meaning.
Only the event can bring about order and orientation within immanence, as such devoid of them. Moreover, to the extent this event is, at
least from the perspective of the immanence of reason, out of reach, the
only way to render it comprehensible is to fall back to mythical language, to the language of myth – for instance, to the mythical representation of the Volk, or as Heidegger put it:
The spiritual world of a Volk is not its cultural superstructure, just as little as
it is its arsenal of useful knowledge and values; rather, it is the power that comes
from preserving at the most profound level the forces that are rooted in the soil
and blood of a Volk, the power to arouse most inwardly and to shake most
extensively the Volk’s existence. A spiritual world alone will guarantee our Volk
greatness. For it will make the constant decision between the will to greatness
and the toleration of decline the law that establishes the pace for the march
upon which our Volk has embarked on the way to its future history.637
637 Martin Heidegger, “The Self-Assertion of the German University.” In Richard
Wolin (ed.), The Heidegger Controversy. Cambridge: The MIT Press 1998, p. 34.
214
To be sure, Heidegger moved from the mythical to the mystical and
finally to the poetical in the 1940’s and 1950’s. However, throughout
these stages he continued to see the Western rationalism as a curse we
must get rid of – and to the end it was the event, the mysterious happening, that gave him the means for his efforts, as it had done from the
very beginning. But what makes this solution problematic is not that he
opposes Western rationalism but rather that he identifies the event with
the exception. In fact, it can be argued that it is precisely this solution
which explains, at least in part, Schmitt’s and Heidegger’s enthusiasm
for Nazism – for its fascination for the event and myth – and that even
Bataille can be seen as working for it, as Walter Benjamin once noted,
anticipating thus Jean-Luc Nancy’s opinion according to which Bataille’s
“ecstasy remained linked to the fascist orgy”.638
Yet, although the desire for an event and the search for myth go
always hand in hand, it is not primarily myth that Schmitt – or Heidegger
and Bataille – are seeking for. Myth is merely a logical consequence of a
more profound interest that these thinkers share. This is the fascination
for the sacred. When Schmitt complains about the modern tendency to
rationalize and neutralize everything, or that in late modernity everything becomes immanent to reason and manipulation, he is complaining about the profanation of the age. In late modernity, everything has
become freely available and usable, but it is this availability and usability, this freedom without constraints, the “oceanic” freedom, that makes
the age rotten (zersetzt).639 In the absolutely profane world, there is no
order nor orientation, no sense nor meaning, because such a world is
absolutely homogeneous, without real differences. Only the reappearance of the sacred can recreate the differences in the world, that is to say,
bring it back from banality into the realm of sense and meaning. Only
the sacred, distinguished from the profane and elevated above it, can
638 Jean-Luc Nancy, The Inoperative Community. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press 1991, p. 20.
639 “Our situation is completely deteriorated (zersetzt).” Schmitt, The Nomos of
the Earth, p. 71.
215
produce a world of orders and orientations. All other differences, for
instance, the difference between good and evil, even that of friend and
enemy, derive from this most profound and absolutely unsurpassable
difference, from this most primordial measure. It is the most primordial because the sacred is ungraspable, that is to say, something that
cannot be manipulated: “No mortal can invent it, no genius can compose it […]”640 Therefore, only the sacred can provide man with a genuine measure, the measure over and above all measures, with the help of
which he can orient himself in the world.
For Schmitt, although not for him only, the crucial question was:
how can we restore the sacred? Had he been merely a Catholic conservative the natural answer would have been: by restoring the grandeur of
the Christ and especially, by reawakening the memory of His sacrificial
death, the event of the sacred for the Christians. But Schmitt was not
only a Catholic conservative. He did not believe that revitalizing the
memory of the death of Christ is enough in the age of profanation. To
be sure, he believed – as did Heidegger and Bataille – that the sacred can
only be an event. Only an event, a “great event” within immanence of
history, can elevate existence beyond the senselessness of absolute immanence and bestow man with order and orientation. But his longing
was for a new event, a new violent beginning, which is to say, a new
sacred – for it is, as Schmitt well knew, only violence that can re-establish the difference between the sacred and the profane. Only violence can
be the origin of the sacred, which in turn is the only convincing origin of
myth, that is to say, of the comprehensive representation of sense and
meaning. Eventually this may turn out to be the perspective from which
we must interpret Schmitt’s philosophy of concrete life, emphasizing
the unsurpassable gap between, and the irreducible togetherness of, the
(sacred) event and the (profane) established order. At least, it is only
from this perspective that we are able to understand Schmitt who, four
years after the most atrocious war ever experienced in the world history,
640 Schmitt, ”The Source”, p. 143.
216
did not hesitate to write: “When culture comes, heroes come to an end,
says Hegel. For us, this culture has become dull. This peace is getting
foul for me. Therefore, we call for heroes. And they will come!”641
In the preface to The Nomos of the Earth, Schmitt stated that he
believes in the promise that the earth belongs to peacemakers.642 But he
also always emphasized that there is a variety of peacemakers – and that
wars are waged precisely between peacemakers. The crucial question
then remains: who is the peacemaker with whom we want to associate?
641 Schmitt, Glossarium, p. 249.
642 “The earth has been promised to the peacemakers. The idea of a new nomos
of the earth belongs only to them.” Schmitt, The Nomos of the Earth, p. 39.
217
218
Bibliography
Agamben, Giorgio. État d’exeption. Paris: Seuil 2003.
Agamben, Giorgio. Le temps qui reste. Un commentaire de l’Épitre aux Romains.
Paris: Payot & Rivages 2000.
Arendt, Hannah. “What is Freedom.” In Between Past and Future. London: Penguin Books 1993.
Arendt, Hannah. The Human Condition. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press
1989.
Arendt, Hannah. The Origins of Totalitarianism. London: A Harvest Book
1968.
Aristotle. Politics. The Loeb Classical Library. Cambridge: Harvard University Press
1990.
Bakunin, Mikhail. Statism and Anarchy. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
1990.
Balakrishnan, Gopal. The Enemy: An Intellectual Portrait of Carl Schmitt. London:
Verso 2000.
Bataille, Georges. Sovereignty. In The Accursed Share. Vol. 3. New York: Zone Books
1993.
Bataille, Georges. Inner Experience. New York: State University of New York Press
1988.
Beck, Ulrich. The Reinvention of Politics. Cambridge: Polity Press 1997.
Benjamin, Walter. “The Artwork in the Age of Its Technological Reproductibility.”
In Walter Benjamin, Selected Writings. Volume 4, 1938–1940. Cambridge:
The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press 2003.
Bodin, Jean. On Sovereignty. Four Chapters from the Six Books of the Commonwealth.
Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1992.
Caldwell, Peter C. Popular Sovereignty and the Crisis of German Constitutional Law.
Durham: Duke University Press 1997.
Cristi, Renato. Carl Schmitt and Authoritarian Liberalism. Cardiff: University of
Wales Press 1998.
Deleuze, Gilles & Guattari, Felix. A Thousand Plateaus: Capitalism and Schizophrenia. London: Athlone Press 1987.
Deleuze, Gilles. Difference and Repetition. London: The Athlone Press 1994.
Derrida, Jacques. Politics of Friendship. London: Verso 1997.
219
Cortés, Juan Donoso. “Discurso sobre la dictatura.” In Obras Completas II. Madrid:
Editorial Católica 1946.
Cortés, Juan Donoso. Ensayo sobre el catolicismo, el liberalismo y el socialismo. In
Obras Completas III. Madrid: Editorial Católica 1946.
Foucault, Michel. The History of Sexuality. Volume 1: An Introduction. New York:
Vintage Books 1990.
Foucault, Michel. “What is an Author.” In Paul Rabinow (ed.), The Foucault Reader.
London: Penguin Books 1984.
Foucault, Michel. “The Subject and Power.” Afterword in Hubert L. Dreyfus &
Paul Rabinow, Michel Foucault. Beyond Structuralism and Hermeneutics. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press 1982.
Foucault, Michel. “Truth and Power.” In Colin Gordon (ed.), Power/Knowledge.
Selected Interviews and Other Writings by Michel Foucault. New York: Pantheon Books 1980.
Foucault, Michel. “Power and Strategies.” In Colin Gordon (ed.), Power/Knowledge. Selected Interviews and Other Writings by Michel Foucault. New York:
Pantheon Books 1980.
Foucault, Michel. Discipline and Punish. London: Penguin Books 1979.
Freund, Julien. “Schmitt’s Political Thought.” Telos No 102, Winter 1995.
Galli, Carlo. “Carl Schmitt’s Anti-liberalism: Its Theoretical and Historical Sources
and Its Philosophical and Political Meaning.” Cardozo Law Review. Vol. 21:
1597, 2000.
Gross, Raphael. Carl Schmitt und die Juden. Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp
2000.
Habermas, Jürgen. The Inclusion of the Other. Cambridge: The MIT Press 1999.
Hegel, G. W. F. Elements of the Philosophy of Right. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1991.
Hegel, G. W. F. Phenomenology of Spirit. Oxford: Oxford University Press 1977.
Heidegger, Martin. “The Self-Assertion of the German University.” In Richard
Wolin (ed.), The Heidegger Controversy. Cambridge: The MIT Press 1998.
Heidegger, Martin. Introduction to Metaphysics. New Haven: Yale University Press
2000.
Heidegger, Martin. “The Question Concerning Technology.” In David Farrell Krell
(ed.), Basic Writings. London: Routledge 1994.
Heidegger, Martin. Basic Concepts. Bloomington: Indiana University Press 1988.
Heidegger, Martin. Being and Time. Oxford: Basil Blackwell 1962.
Hobbes, Thomas. Leviathan. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1991.
Jünger, Ernst. “Total Mobilization.” In Richard Wolin (ed.), The Heidegger Controversy. Cambridge: The MIT Press 1993.
220
Kahn, Victoria. “Hamlet or Hecuba: Carl Schmitt’s Decision.” Representations 83,
Summer 2003.
Kalyvas, Andreas. “Carl Schmitt and the Three Moments of Democracy.” Cardozo
Law Review. Vol. 21: 1597, 2000.
Kant, Immanuel. Rechtslehre. Schriften zur Rechtsphilosophie. Berlin: Academie-Verlag
1988.
Kelsen, Hans. General Theory of Law and State. Cambridge: Harvard University
Press 1949.
Kelsen, Hans. Problem der Souveränität und die Theorie des Völkerrecht. Tübingen:
J. C. B. Mohr 1920.
Kelsen, Hans. Hauptprobleme der Staatsrechtslehre entwickelt aus der Lehre vom
Rechtssatze. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr 1911.
Kierkegaard, Sören. Repetition. In Fear and Trembling – Repetition. Princeton:
Princeton University Press 1983.
Kierkegaard, Sören. Two Ages. The Age of Revolution and The Present Age. Princeton:
Princeton University Press 1978.
Lacoue-Labarthe, Philippe and Nancy, Jean-Luc. Le myth nazi. Paris: Editions de
l’Aube 2003.
Laroche, Emmanuel. Histoire de la racine “Nem” en grec ancien. Paris: Klincksieck
1949.
Levinas, Emmanuel. “The Trace of the Other.” In Mark Taylor (ed.), Deconstruction
in Context. Chicago: University of Chicago Press 1986.
Locke, John. Two Treatises of Government. An Essay Concerning The True Original,
Extent, and End of Civil-Government (1689). Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1960.
Löwith, Karl. Meaning in History. Chicago: The University of Chicago Press 1949.
Machiavelli, Niccolo. The Discourses. In The Prince and The Discourses. New York:
The Modern Library 1950.
Maistre, Joseph de. Du Pape. Paris: Garnier Frères 1928.
Maistre, Joseph de. Considerations on France. Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press 1994.
McCormick, John P. Carl Schmitt’s Critique of Liberalism. Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press 1997.
Meier, Heinrich. The Lesson of Carl Schmitt: Four Chapters on the Distinction between Political Theology and Political Philosophy. Chicago: The University of
Chicago Press 1988.
Montesquieu. The Spirit of the Laws. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press 1989.
Nancy, Jean-Luc. The Inoperative Community. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press 1991.
221
Nietzsche, Friedrich. Thus Spoke Zarathustra. New York: The Modern Library 1995.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. On the Genealogy of Morals. In On the Genelogy of Morals and
Ecce Homo. London: Vintage Books 1989.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Anti-Christ. In Twilight of the Idols and The Anti-Christ.
London: Penguin Books 1972.
Nietzsche, Friedrich. The Will to Power. London: Vintage Books 1968.
Palaver, Wolfgang. “Carl Schmitt on Nomos and Space.” Telos No 106, Winter
1996.
Pan, David. “Political Aesthetics: Carl Schmitt on Hamlet.” Telos 72, Summer
1987.
Plato. Protagoras. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Company 1997.
Plato. Gorgias. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Company 1997.
Plato. Statesman. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Company 1997.
Plato. Republic. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis:
Hackett Publishing Company 1997.
Plato. Laws. In John M. Cooper (ed.), Plato: Complete Works. Indianapolis: Hackett
Publishing Company 1997.
Pufendorf, Samuel. Le Droit de la nature et des Gens. Paris: E & J.R. Hourneisen
1793.
Rawls, John. Theory of Justice. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press 1972.
Rousseau, Jean-Jacques. The Social Contract. London: Penguin Books 1980.
Schmitt, Carl. Der Wert des Staates und die Bedeutung des Einzelnen. Munich:
C. H. Beck 1914.
Schmitt, Carl. Theodor Däublers ‘Nordlicht’. Drei Studien über die Elemente, den
Geist und die Aktualität des Werkes (1916). Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1991.
Schmitt, Carl. Political Romanticism (1919). Cambridge: The MIT Press 1986.
Schmitt, Carl. Die Diktatur. Von den Anfängen des modernen Souveränitätsgedankens
bis zum proletarischen Klassenkampf (1921). Berlin: Duncker & Humblot
1928.
Schmitt, Carl. Political Theology (1922). Cambridge: The MIT Press 1985.
Schmitt, Carl. Roman Catholicism and Political Form (1923). Westport: Greenwood Press 1996.
Schmitt, Carl. The Crisis of Parliamentary Democracy (1924). Cambridge: The MIT
Press 1994.
Schmitt, Carl. Verfassungslehre (1928). Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1993.
222
Schmitt, Carl. “The Constitutional Theory of Federation” (1928). Telos No 91,
Spring 1992.
Schmitt, Carl. “Wesen und Werden des faschistischen Staates” (1929). In Positionen
und Begriffe im Kampf mit Weimar, Genf, Versailles 1923–1939. Berlin:
Duncker & Humblot 1985.
Schmitt, Carl. “The Age of Neutralizations and Depoliticizations” (1929). Telos
No 96, Summer 1993.
Schmitt, Carl. “Das Problem der innerpolitischen Neutralität der Staates” (1930).
In Verfasungsrechtliche Aufsätze aus den Jahren 1924–1954. Berlin: Duncker
& Humblot 1958.
Schmitt, Carl. “Ethic of State and Pluralistic State” (1930). In Chantal Mouffe
(ed.), The Challenge of Carl Schmitt. London: Verso 1999.
Schmitt, Carl. Der Hüter der Verfassung. Tübingen: J. C. B. Mohr 1931.
Schmitt, Carl. The Concept of the Political (1932). Chicago: The University of Chicago Press 1996.
Schmitt, Carl. “Legalität und Legitimität” (1932). In Verfassungsrechtliche Aufsätze
aus den Jahren 1924–1954. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1958.
Schmitt, Carl. “Strong State and Sound Economy” (1932). Appendix in Renato
Cristi, Carl Schmitt and Authoritarian Liberalism. Cardiff: University of Wales
Press 1998.
Schmitt, Carl. “Further Development of the Total State in Germany” (1933). In
Simona Draghici (ed.), Carl Schmitt: Four Articles 1931–1938. Washington:
Plutarch Press 1999.
Schmitt, Carl. State, Movement, People (1933). Corvallis: Plutarch Press 2001.
Schmitt, Carl. Über die Drei Arten des rechtswissenschaftlichen Denkens (1934). Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1993.
Schmitt, Carl. “Die deutsche Rechtswissenschaft im Kampf gegen den jüdischen
Geist” (1936). Deutsche Juristen-Zeitung. Heft 20, 15 October 1936.
Schmitt, Carl. “Total war, Total Enemy and Total State” (1937). In Simona
Draghici (ed.), Carl Schmitt: Four Articles. Washington: Plutarch Press
1999.
Schmitt, Carl. The Leviathan in the State Theory of Thomas Hobbes (1938). Westport:
Greenwood Press 1996.
Schmitt, Carl. Die Wendung zum diskriminierenden Kriegsbegriff (1938). Berlin:
Duncker & Humblot 1988.
Schmitt, Carl. “Völkerrechtliche Großraumordnung mit Interventionsverbot für
raumfremde Mächte” (1941). In Staat, Großraum, Nomos. Arbeiten aus den
Jahren 1916–1969. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1995.
Schmitt, Carl. Land and Sea (1942). Washington: Plutarch Press 1997.
223
Schmitt, Carl. “The Plight of European Jurisprudence” (1944). Telos No 83, Spring
1990.
Schmitt, Carl. “Die Lage der europäischen Rechtswissenschaft” (1944). In Verfassungsrechtliche Aufsätze aus den Jahren 1924–1954. Berlin: Duncker &
Humblot 1958.
Schmitt, Carl. The Nomos of the Earth in the International Law of the Jus Publicum
Europaeum (1950). New York: Telos Press 2003
Schmitt, Carl. Ex Captivitate Salus. Köln: Greven Verlag 1950.
Schmitt, Carl. “Die Einheit der Welt” (1952). In Staat, Großraum, Nomos. Arbeiten
aus den Jahren 1916 –1969. Berlin: Duncker & Humblot 1995.
Schmitt, Carl. “Appropriation / Distribution / Production: An Attempt to Determine from Nomos the Basic Questions of Every Social and Economic Order”
(1953). Corollary 1 in the Appendix to The Nomos of the Earth. New York:
Telos Press 2003.
Schmitt, Carl. Gespräch über die Macht und den Zugang zum Machthaber (1954).
Berlin: Akademie Verlag 1994.
Schmitt, Carl. “Raum und Rom. Zur Phonetik des Wortes Raum” (1951). In Staat,
Großraum, Nomos. Arbeiten aus den Jahren 1916–1969. Berlin: Duncker &
Humblot 1995.
Schmitt, Carl. “Nomos – Nahme – Name” (1956). Corollary 2 in the Appendix to
The Nomos of the Earth. New York: Telos Press 2003.
Schmitt, Carl. “L’unité du monde II” (1956). In Du politique: “légalité et légitimité”
et autres essays. Paris: Pardès 1990.
Schmitt, Carl. Hamlet oder Hecuba. Der Einbruch der Zeit in das Spiel (1956).
Stuttgart: Klett-Cotta 1993.
Schmitt, Carl. “The Source of the Tragic” (1956). Telos 72, Summer 1987.
Schmitt, Carl. “On the Barbaric Character of Shakespearean Drama: A Response
to Walter Benjamin” (1956). Telos 72, Summer 1987.
Schmitt, Carl. Der Begriff des Politischen (fourth edition). Berlin: Duncker &
Humblot 1963.
Schmitt, Carl. Theory of the Partisan: Intermediate Commentary on the Concept of
the Political (1963). Telos No 127, Spring 2004.
Schmitt, Carl. “Interrogation of Carl Schmitt by Robert Kempner.” Telos No 72,
Summer 1987.
Schmitt, Carl. Glossarium – Aufzeichnungen der Jahre 1947–1951. Berlin: Duncker
& Humblot 1988.
Sieyès, Emmanuel. Qu’est-ce que le tiers-état. Paris: Flammarion 1988.
Sorel, Georges. Reflections on Violence. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press
1999.
224
Spinoza, Baruch. Ethics. London: Everyman 1989.
Ulmen, G. L. “The Concept of Nomos: Introduction to Schmitt’s ‘Appropriation /
Distribution / Production’.” Telos No 95, Spring 1993.
Ulmen, G. L. “Return of the Foe.” Telos No 72, Summer 1987.
Weber, Max. Economy and Society. Berkeley: University of California Press 1978.
Weber, Max. The Protestant Ethic and the Spirit of Capitalism. London: Unvin
University Press 1970.
Wolin, Richard. “Carl Schmitt: The Conservative Revolutionary Habitus and the
Aesthetics of Horror.” Political Theory. Vol. 20, Issue 3, 1992.
¡ iz¡ek, Slavoj. “Carl Schmitt in the Age of Post-Politics.” In Chantal Mouffe (ed.),
Z
The Challenge of Carl Schmitt. London: Verso 1999.
¡ iz¡ek, Slavoj. The Ticklish Subject: The Absent Centre of Political Ontology. London:
Z
Verso 1999.
225