A Time for Enlightenment

Chad Wickman

Department of English
Kent State University
cwickman@kent.edu

 

Review of: Borradori, Giovanna. Philosophy in a Time of Terror: Dialogues with Jürgen Habermas and Jacques Derrida.Chicago: U of Chicago P, 2003.

 

Giovanna Borradori’s Philosophy in a Time of Terror: Dialogues with Jürgen Habermas and Jacques Derrida stages an encounter between two philosophers whose respective bodies of work are as vast as they are vastly different from one another. For Borradori, however, Habermas and Derrida share a common bond–each has looked to the uses and the limits of Enlightenment philosophy for perspective on current global crises, particularly those related to 9/11. Borradori attempts to reveal this commonality by asking similar questions in her conversations with Habermas and Derrida. While there is no direct dialogue between Habermas and Derrida in the book, readers can nonetheless see how the two contend with each other and with contemporary issues ranging from global terrorism to international law. Philosophy in a Time of Terror invites readers to think about how philosophy can help us to understand 9/11 and the crises of which it is part.

 

Although Habermas and Derrida have found ways to collaborate politically (both, for instance, participated in the publication of a May 2003 statement in the Frankfurter Allgemeine and La Liberation that called for a unification of European foreign policy as a response to U.S. hegemony in world affairs), that collaboration has taken place in spite of certain basic philosophical differences. One need look no further than Habermas’s critique of Derrida in The Philosophical Discourse of Modernity, or Derrida’s own familiar suspicions regarding the universalism and rationality to which Habermas subscribes. Part of Borradori’s task is in that case to account for a dispute that has long existed between Habermas and Derrida. In her introduction to the volume, she describes how Enlightenment ideals figure differently in Habermas’s and Derrida’s respective philosophies. If, as part of the tradition of the Frankfurt School, Habermas aims at an “improvement of the present human situation” dependent on a “belief in principles whose validity is universal because they hold across historical and cultural specificities,” that belief would seem to run up against Derrida’s distrust of the notion of the universal as that which can “impose a set of standards that benefit some and bring disadvantage to others, depending on context” (15-16). That Derrida also believes in a responsibility that “articulates the demand for universalism associated with the Enlightenment” suggests to Borradori that there are important points of overlap between the two philosophers (15-6). The connections Borradori makes between Habermas, Derrida, and the Enlightenment offer a refreshing perspective on a longstanding debate.

 

It would, however, be wrong to see Philosophy in a Time of Terror as a treatise that seeks simply to unite these figures. While Borradori is interested in identifying continuities between Habermas and Derrida vis-à-vis the Enlightenment, she does so with another interest in mind: to demonstrate how philosophy can help make sense of global terrorism, 9/11, and the current state of international relations and international law:

 

While for Habermas terrorism is the effect of the trauma of modernization, which has spread around the world at a pathological speed, Derrida sees terrorism as a symptom of a traumatic element intrinsic to modern experience, whose focus is always on the future, somewhat pathologically understood as promise, hope, and self-affirmation. Both are somber reflections on the legacy of the Enlightenment: the relentless search for a critical perspective that must start with self-examination. (22)

 

Borradori thus gestures towards themes that readers can expect to find in the dialogues and reveals the critical perspective she would have readers adopt as they “walk along the same path” as Habermas and Derrida (48). Borradori clears this path for readers by including essays that situate each dialogue within the larger context of Habermas’s and Derrida’s work. Although the terms of these summaries will be familiar to the already initiated, they offer the uninitiated reader a chance to enter directly an ongoing dialogue between Habermas and Derrida. It is to Borradori’s credit that her book allows readers to see so clearly how Habermas and Derrida position themselves in relation to these pressing topics.

 

The terms of Borradori’s questions reflect her broader aim of understanding how Habermas and Derrida situate 9/11 in a cultural, historical, and philosophical context. With her initial question, for instance, she asks each to explain the significance of 9/11 as an “event.” Habermas, for his part, offers an historical analogy, suggesting that 9/11 is similar to the outbreak of World War I in that it “signaled the end of a peaceful and, in retrospect, somewhat unsuspecting era” (26). He explains, however, that the attack on the World Trade Center was itself unprecedented because of “the symbolic force of the targets struck” (28). For Derrida, the way the attack has been named–“as a date and nothing more” (85)–signifies that “we perhaps have no concept and no meaning available to us to name in any other way this ‘thing’ that has just happened, this supposed ‘event'” (86). We are not only unable appropriately to name and, in doing so, to grasp the significance of 9/11, but we must also live in a world where terrorist attacks hinder our ability to carry on our lives. Since there is no way to know when or where a terrorist attack might occur, a sense of impending doom threatens us just as it keeps us from coming to grips with terror already faced. Derrida writes, “there is traumatism with no possible work of mourning when the evil comes from the possibility to come of the worst, from the repetition to come–though worse” (97). This is part of the power wielded by terrorists. They do not seek to overthrow but to destabilize the systems of countries such as the U.S. Indeed, it is through the symbolic force of their acts, as Habermas suggests, that they incite terror and, thereby, inflict their wounds.

 

Habermas and Derrida also share an interest in the ways in which the rest of the world has been affected by and has responded to the attack. For Habermas and Derrida, the Bush administration in particular should be held accountable for its actions, which, they agree, have tended to increase rather than reduce the potential for violence. This criticism stems from the nature of global terrorism and the administration’s response to it. Today’s terrorists gain power not by overthrowing, but by destabilizing the systems of world superpowers. Because terrorists work at the level of the symbolic, they wage war without marching onto a battlefield and cannot be defeated like a typical enemy. As Habermas notes, “the global terror that culminated in the September 11 attack bears the anarchistic traits of an impotent revolt directed against an enemy that cannot be defeated in any pragmatic sense” (34). This kind of conflict can benefit both “sides”: it benefits terrorists because it enables them to continue to wage war on a world stage, and it benefits governments like the U.S. because a “war on terror” is a useful political tool for assuring that under-motivated military and political actions will be tolerated indefinitely. This scenario may appear obvious to some, but its specific mechanisms, as Habermas and Derrida make clear, must be addressed if it is to be in any way ameliorated.

 

Habermas locates the potential causes of global terrorism in the clash between religious fundamentalism and modernization. He sees fundamentalism as analogous to a “repression of striking cognitive dissonances” that “occurs when the innocence of the epistemological situation of an all-encompassing world perspective is lost and when, under the cognitive conditions of scientific knowledge and of religious pluralism, a return to the exclusivity of premodern belief attitudes is propagated” (32). This means that for Habermas modernization is largely responsible for religious fundamentalism. Secularization and economic growth, as exemplified in and by the West, is a threat to many non-Western countries that have been “split up into winner, beneficiary, and loser countries” (32). A country like the U.S. serves not only as a model of what many countries strive to attain, but also “as a scapegoat for the Arab world’s own, very real experiences of loss, suffered by populations torn out of their cultural traditions during processes of accelerated modernization” (32).

 

While Derrida does not ignore the role that fundamentalism plays in terrorist acts, he takes a different approach in explaining what he feels are the origins of global terrorism. For him, global terrorism is made possible by an “autoimmunitary process,” meaning that imperial powers in the West make possible the very attacks that they hope to preempt. He writes, “as we know, an autoimmunitary process is that strange behavior where a living being, in quasi-suicidal fashion, ‘itself’ works to destroy its own protection, to immunize itself against its ‘own’ immunity” (94). Derrida categorizes autoimmunity in the case of 9/11 into three moments of “reflex and reflection” that involve: 1) “the Cold War in the head”; 2) “worse than the Cold War”; and 3) “the vicious circle of repression.” The first moment of “suicidal autoimmunity” occurs when a country trains the people who will later terrorize it. The second follows when the world is put at risk by the “terrorists” who were initially enlisted as “freedom fighters.” No longer affiliated with the state that funded them, these terrorists become a risk to a world that has no real way to appease them other than to reverse the process of modernization that helped make them powerful in the first place. The last moment, according to Derrida, is exemplified by the war on terrorism. As he suggests, such a “war” will continue to be waged indefinitely since civilians and other insurgents, people who consider the acts by countries such as the United States terroristic, will continue to fight back using their own means. For Derrida, this circle of violence will continue if left unchecked by international law.

 

On the subject of international law, Habermas and Derrida share similar ideals even if they endorse different methods for realizing those ideals. It is also on the subject of international law that their ties to the Enlightenment become most apparent. While Habermas endorses universalism in various forms, he also understands that universal concepts can be used ignominiously: “the universalistic discourses of law and morality can be abused as a particularly insidious form of legitimation since particular interests can hide behind the glimmering façade of reasonable universality” (42). By the same token, he claims, “just as every objection raised against the selective or one-eyed application of universalistic standards must already presuppose these same standards, in the same manner, any deconstructive unmasking of the ideologically concealing use of universalistic discourses actually presupposes the critical viewpoints advanced by these same discourses” (42).

 

Habermas’s reliance upon universals is, of course, at odds with Derrida’s rejection of them. But readers might be surprised to find that Derrida comes close to advocating the need for what Habermas refers to as “universal discourses of law.” Derrida writes:

 

Despite my very strong reservations about the American, indeed European, political posture, about the "international antiterrorist" coalition, despite all the de facto betrayals, all the failures to live up to democracy, international law, and the very international institutions that the states of this "coalition" themselves founded and supported up to a certain point, I would take the side of the camp that, in principle, by right of law, leaves a perspective open to perfectibility in the name of the "political," democracy, international law, international institutions, and so on. (113-14)

 

Derrida does not claim that international institutions are without fault. Indeed, one of his most important critiques of organizations such as the United Nations is that the countries that make up those organizations do not always abide by the laws they create. Still, as he suggests, international institutions and the possibility of their “perfectibility” are necessary, for if there is to be any semblance of stability or accountability in the world, it must come about both through constant revision of existing institutions and through their promise, and perhaps their ability, to help establish and maintain open, equitable, and peaceful relations among nations and peoples.

 

Both Habermas and Derrida see cosmopolitanism as one way to achieve a modicum of peace and stability across the globe, but neither would stop at achieving a cosmopolitan world order. For if cosmopolitanism broadly construed implies the belief that all individuals are citizens of the world, then the term itself carries with it the possibility that people can be defined as citizens within and apart from states to which they may or may not belong as legal subjects. This notion has benefits–it could make way for mutual respect and perspective-taking, for a start–but it may also have drawbacks, particularly if being a citizen means subjecting oneself to doctrinal laws and beliefs. It is a useful concept if it is not seen as an end in itself. Accordingly, Derrida offers a particular way to move beyond cosmopolitanism:

 

What I call "democracy to come" would go beyond the limits of cosmopolitanism, that is, of a world citizenship. It would be more in line with what lets singular beings (anyone) "live together," there where they are not yet defined by citizenship, that is, by their condition as lawful "subjects" in a state or legitimate members of a nation-state or even of a confederation or world state. (130)

 

While Derrida would do away with the nation-state, he would not replace it with a world-state in which all peoples would be “united” under a single regime as world citizens. Indeed, such a position would limit his notion of “democracy to come.” His notion of “democracy to come” bypasses the limitations of cosmopolitanism because it is less about individuals defined as lawful subjects or citizens and more about living together as “singular beings.” “Democracy to come” can, then, be seen as the promise of an equitable and perhaps peaceful future that is embodied in the present. If seen in this way, Derrida offers not a solution to specific problems of international law but, instead, a scenario for readers to consider, an ideal that, even if not immediately realizable, could nonetheless prompt thinking and dialogue.

 

Like Derrida, Habermas believes in cosmopolitanism but also notes its flaws: “the ontologization of the friend-foe relation suggests that attempts at a cosmopolitan juridification of the relations between the belligerent subjects of international law are fated to serve the masking of particular interests in universalistic disguise” (38). Habermas sees cosmopolitanism as useful, but only if the concept involves rational communication and what he calls “mutual perspective-taking”: “in the course of mutual perspective-taking there can develop a common horizon of background assumptions in which both sides accomplish an interpretation that is not ethnocentrically adopted or converted but, rather, intersubjectively shared” (37). Habermas’s ideal vision, like Derrida’s, invites readers to consider a world in which citizens share an equal opportunity to live how they wish to live, speak how they wish to speak, feel how they wish to feel. Although both share a somewhat utopian vision, it is Derrida who hits upon a crucial critique of such a world. He understands that equitable communication as Habermas describes it would involve universal access to the same type of reason. Derrida questions universal reason, but he also considers the possibility of such reason necessary when addressing issues of international law, global terrorism, and globalization in general.

 

This implicit debate between Habermas and Derrida is, in fact, most direct–and most lively–in their discussion of the notions of tolerance and hospitality. Habermas emphasizes the notion of tolerance, despite certain limitations. He understands that tolerance is problematic in that the concept “possesses [in] itself the kernel of intolerance” (41). This is so because tolerance involves setting boundaries that one allows others to cross. In short, tolerance suggests that a stronger person or nation allows a weaker person or nation to act as he, she, or it pleases in relation to a certain limit. Beyond that limit, tolerance devolves into intolerance. Habermas counters this scenario by explaining how a constitutional democracy does not involve a single person or group tolerating another: “On the basis of the citizens’ equal rights and reciprocal respect for each other, nobody possesses the privilege of setting the boundaries of tolerance from the viewpoint of their own preferences and value-orientations” (41). Anticipating Derrida’s critique of tolerance, Habermas notes, “straight deconstruction of the concept of tolerance falls into a trap, since the constitutional state contradicts precisely the premise from which the paternalistic sense of the traditional concept of ‘tolerance’ derives” (41).

 

Derrida picks up where Habermas leaves off, criticizing tolerance while endorsing his own notion of hospitality: “Tolerance remains a scrutinized hospitality, always under surveillance, parsimonious and protective of its sovereignty” (128). As Derrida suggests, tolerance does more to protect the hegemony of the person or state that tolerates than it does to achieve equality. Opposed to this necessarily limited tolerance is Derrida’s hospitality: “Pure and unconditional hospitality, hospitality itself, opens or is in advance open to someone who is neither expected nor invited, to whomever arrives as an absolutely foreign visitor, as a new arrival, nonidentifiable and unforeseeable, in short, wholly other” (128-29). Given this definition of hospitality, it seems as if Derrida chooses to ignore the concept’s applicability. Not so. As he writes, “an unconditional hospitality is, to be sure, practically impossible to live; one cannot in any case, and by definition, organize it” (129). This is not to say that hospitality is impractical, even if it is “practically impossible to live”; rather, it may be that the realization of the concept lies in the ability or willingness of individuals, not nation-states, to embrace it. Put another way, hospitality may be realized in practice by individuals even if it may be unrealistic at this historical moment for nation-states to do the same. In this sense, hospitality at once resists unified organization by a nation-state as it encourages unified understanding among individuals who would accept it as a way of relating to others in the world.

 

For Borradori, the realization of Derrida’s vision is possible only if philosophy plays a central role in understanding 9/11, global terrorism, and international law. Indeed, part of her aim in Philosophy in a Time of Terror is to think how philosophers might be involved in helping the world understand and, perhaps, mourn 9/11 and the events that have followed it. Habermas, for one, does not seem to believe that intellectuals have a specific role in offering the world ways to cope with 9/11 or with global terrorism. He feels that we should exercise caution when delegating responsibility to specific groups who may or may not have the expertise to make informed decisions: “If one is not exactly an economist, one refrains from judging complex economic developments” (30). Derrida has a different vision of the philosopher’s role in dealing with the trauma provoked by 9/11: “Though I am incapable of knowing who today deserves the name philosopher . . . I would be tempted to call philosophers those who, in the future, reflect in a responsible fashion on these [Borradori’s] questions and demand accountability from those in charge of public discourse, those responsible for the language and institutions of international law” (106). For Derrida, the responsibility of the philosopher is to find responsible ways to make sense out of tragedy, even if it means criticizing those very countries that have been victims of global terrorism. He could, that is, “condemn unconditionally . . . the attack of September 11 without having to ignore the real or alleged conditions that made it possible” (107).

 

It is possible, I think, to take something from both Habermas’s and Derrida’s positions. Habermas is right to suggest that philosophers and intellectuals are not necessarily expert in all areas of war and conflict and should not act as “armchair strategists” (30). Derrida, in line with Borradori, offers important insights as well. To understand global terrorism requires that we understand its causes and effects. From economics to politics, from international law to human rights, philosophy provides a discourse that can help the world better understand and learn from global terrorism, its effects, and its causes. Ultimately, the dialogues in Philosophy in a Time of Terror reveal that the differences between Habermas and Derrida outweigh the similarities. Even so, readers have reason to find hope in the way Habermas and Derrida consider each other’s differences. And this, I think, speaks to one of the most significant messages in Philosophy in a Time of Terror. If Habermas and Derrida, rationalism and deconstruction, have found ways to communicate, to collaborate, then it is possible for others to do the same. It is up to us to begin and to sustain dialogue with those of whom we have tended to think without toleration.