
merging from the shock waves of 9/11, this book itself
is something of an event. For the first time, philosophers Jürgen
Habermas and Jacques Derrida appear side by side answering the same
questions about the same topic: the philosophical and political
consequences of the terrorist attacks of 9/11. Habermas is known not only
as the founder of a theory of communicative action, but also as one of
the most outspoken defenders of the—admittedly unfinished—“project of
modernity.” Derrida, on the other hand, invented and enthusiastically
practices the “deconstruction” of philosophical, scientific and any other
presumably coherent theory and discourse, unraveling their implicit
meanings. For Derrida, there cannot be a discourse or rhetoric that is
not guilty of unreasonable simplification, of more or less violently
reducing the complexities and ambivalences of reality. No wonder then
that Derrida is classified as the supreme advocate of postmodernity,
attacking the dark side of Western history and domination as the outcome
of its inherent hegemonic, monolithic and exclusionary style of thought
and, at the same time, singing the siren song of cultural relativism.
Habermas and Derrida usually are perceived as theoretical and—inasmuch as
they themselves do not distinguish the two realms— political enemies: the
former as an enthusiastic representative of late Enlightenment thought,
the latter (depending on one’s perspective) either as an infinitely
open-minded or irresponsible exponent of anything-goes analysis. For many
readers of the book—maybe even for Habermas and Derrida—it will come as
quite a surprise that, beyond ostensible differences in style, their
respective interpretations of 9/11 and views are very close.
Apart from a short introduction on the Enlightenment tradition and the
inherently political character of modern philosophy, the book consists of
separate lengthy interviews with Derrida and Habermas, plus two essays by
Giovanna Borradori (a philosophy professor at Vassar College who also has
published a collection of interviews with American philosophers) in which
she recapitulates the main arguments and relates them to the writings and
the philosophy of the interviewees. Borradori’s essays are balanced,
understandable and well written introductions to the oeuvres of Habermas
and Derrida. However, skipping them, especially for those who are barely
familiar with Habermas’s and/or Derrida’s books, is no crime since the
theoretical context of the philosophers’ views on the “reasons” for and
consequences of 9/11—at least as far as such a context is necessary—is
clear enough in the interviews themselves. Moreover, Borradori’s
repetition of the arguments makes reading the essays a bit redundant.
Nevertheless, the parallel interviews, conducted only a few weeks after
9/11 in New York, are appealing and intriguing documents.
What Derrida and Habermas say is not always original, but their deeply
engaged and, at the same time, cool critical styles distinguishes these
interviews from the bulk of the often hastily sketched commentaries
pouring out after 9/11. First, the volume shows not necessarily that
philosophy alone is the only light to orient oneself in the dark but that
philosophical reasoning—the attempt to mold one’s times in concepts—still
contributes to recognizing the traps of false and counterproductive
reactions like declaring a “war on terror,” and to finding politically
responsible answers. Second, it demonstrates that characterizing Derrida
as a shady anti-modern thinker is substantially wrong; that, on the
contrary, the philosophies of Habermas and Derrida are inspired by and
dedicated to enlightenment, i.e., liberation from any form of dogmatism,
the ideals of individual and collective self-determination, and the aim
of social justice.
What, then, is the meaning of 9/11? What can be done? What shall “the
West” do to react? What do the terrorist attacks mean for sovereignty and
the international law? What exactly is terrorism, and has it a political
content? What has 9/11 to do with globalization? Are we facing a clash of
civilizations? Are there chances of stimulating or even
institutionalizing intercultural communication? These are the guiding
questions Borradori poses, and, astonishingly, Habermas and Derrida come
to very similar conclusions.
Although both rightly decline to give 9/11 a definitive meaning—not only
because they do not want to legitimize terror, but because a meaning
always only can be assigned in retrospect—the former seems more
forthright in assuming that 9/11 will demarcate the beginning of a new
epoch. This is a global post-Cold War era in which the U.S.— after
thwarting any political order that prevents the market’s free reign—
becomes the sole arbiter of power or, as Derrida phrases it, “the
universal creditor of the world order.” Yet, on the other hand, the
stability and thus the prospects of that same order are clearly fragile
and bleak. It is not the sheer number of casualties that makes 9/11 a
major event—every day thousands of people die in undeclared wars which no
one cares about—it is the fact that the real and symbolic power centers
of the world were attacked, the media coverage of the event, the
dissemination of the news that “the king is mortal” and thus the
foreboding that worse is still to come. The impossibility to predict
whether or when the next attack on U.S. predominance and Western culture
in general will be executed, shakes and erodes confidence that our way of
life will last.
Habermas and Derrida agree that the terrorists who planned the attacks of
9/11 do not have a positive political aim for which they are fighting.
Obviously, there is no message in the attacks other than to spread fear,
undermine trust and provoke exactly the kind of overreactions
that—presumably—were undertaken to counter “terrorism.” Both warn that
the ubiquitous use of the word “terrorism” by governments and the media
to identify an unknown danger—a threat that exists but that cannot be
quelled by means of arms—all too easily serves to justify extralegal
state action. In other words, what is important is that to understand and
withstand the sinister process that the depoliticization of
terrorism—dissolution of the link between “terra” and terror which was
typical for partisans who often did turn into politicians—is followed by
a further de-legalization of politics.
The only responsible legal response to the attacks—here again Derrida and
Habermas agree—is the strengthening, differentiation,
institutionalization and enforcement of international law. The answer
emphatically is not the fierce return to national power politics by the
Bush government, which pretends to enhance respect for law; the right
course is legal self-restriction of overwhelming political, economic,
military and technological power, the recognition of existing and the
creation of new supranational organizations, the universal acceptance of
their judgments and decisions and, of course, their transformation from
mere deliberative organizations into bodies capable of political and
military action to help to create a new world order in which material
inequalities can be offset, in part, through assuring equal national
rights. Only a West, as Habermas says, that has more to offer than the
ideology of consumerism, only a West that revives its universal normative
ideal of self-determination and formal equality as means to allow
differences in culture and personality will be able to overcome the
deep-rooted resentment of (especially Arab and Muslim) non-Western
peoples at having been materially expropriated and culturally corrupted.
One partly successful experiment which might serve as an example that it
is possible to do without national sovereignty while gaining political
influence on other states, of integrating (more or less) different
cultures, is the European Union or, rather, the idea of “Europe” not as a
huge free trade zone, but as a geopolitical space that institutes norms
and procedures for negotiating conflict resolution, instead of “solving”
conflicts through force.
Given the obstacles to achieving an “European” international order— the
resistance of the great powers (including European nations), slow change
of old institutions, the implementation of new ones—it is unlikely that a
new international code of law can be attained without the existing
situation—which already is the fertile ground for terrorism—getting
worse. Therefore, Habermas and Derrida argue, globalization, which has
increased the total of wealth while widening the gap between the rich and
the poor, must be complemented by a new global social policy, by global
welfare programs that elevate the impoverished and culturally deprived
masses. As capitalism in the 19th and early 20th centuries developed, it
was only on the condition that the market was politically channeled, that
the proletariat—yes, there still is such a marginalized collective
because of its dependence on other’s means of production—was given enough
“unearned” support to participate in the political struggle instead of
resisting such narrower forms of development. If the West wants huge
parts of the global population, those who will never make it across its
borders, not to turn a deaf ear to its normative and secular lessons, it
has to stop the involuntary and far greater “terrorism of letting die.”
Habermas and Derrida, believing in the universal validity of
communicative action and deconstruction, acutely appreciate that neither
the attempt to begin a critical cross-cultural discourse nor the humble
gesture of deconstructing the implicit “x-centricity” of Western
conceptual schemes will have the slimmest chance of being accepted if the
exclusion of so many from leading a decent life remain a brute fact.
However unlikely it is that the course of events will lead us in the
direction Derrida and Habermas hint at, they hope that democracy,
secularization and the effective rule of law will extend as far as
possible. But whereas Habermas is convinced that the project of modernity
can prevail, Derrida is more skeptical about the probability that his
wishes will come true. Deconstruction, he says, is not only a method or
discursive strategy, but the political reality we are living in. I agree.
But even he seems to be too optimistic that the West—or “Europe”—somehow
can cease its unreflective and self-destructive “auto-immune reaction”
against the terrorism of 9/11. The stumbling block I see, to enact an
answer to 9/11, is his, as well as Habermas’s, as well as our inability
to understand what it means to believe
Habermas distinguishes a modern from a fundamentalist mode of belief and
argues that Westerners in their complex and violent history learned to
internalize or “bracket” their faith. For the sake of stable relations
with “others,” religion eventually had to be separated out from formal
politics. Derrida, on the other hand, deconstructs “religion,” by showing
that the religious reality behind the concept is diverse and that, beyond
the “Abrahamic” tradition (including Judaism, Christianity and Islam),
politics and belief do not necessarily interfere with one another in
malicious ways. So he advocates the creation of preconditions under which
they would not have to clash at all. I wish both philosophers were right,
but I do not think they are. Is enlightenment really an indispensable
ingredient of any form of modernization? Are there really any “primitive”
or polytheistic lessons a fundamentalist is willing to learn? (Ask a
born again Christian.) I neither see that history tends to repeat itself,
i.e., that secularization is an inevitable trend nor can I imagine that
deconstructing religion anyhow prevents us from religious destruction.
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