Throughout his career, René Girard consistently positioned his mimetic theory as a far more cohesive account of the wide range of phenomena previously addressed by Sigmund Freud, from the nature of human desire all the way to the origin and structure of human culture and religion. Subsequent theories that took shape in psychoanalysis after Freud were not a part of Girard's ongoing discourse for at least two main reasons: Psycho-analysis was seen as a misguided endeavor with fundamentally incompatible concepts (...) and philosophical assumptions, and as psychoanalysis seemed only to be going further in one direction—focusing on the intrapsychic mechanisms of the individual unconscious—Girard's interests went in... (shrink)

The stakes of the United States–China rivalry, as everyone knows, are enormous. But rarely do accounts of the transpacific relationship acknowledge its mirror-like nature. Commentary has focused on the singularity of China's rise, on the differences between the two countries, and on their each being historically exceptional—when in reality today the two have, as "peer competitors," become models for one another and increasingly alike. As Americans deny the implications of China's emulation of American ways, insisting the Chinese "dream their (...) own dream"; as Americans effectively tell Chinese "our spying is better than your spying"; and as China continues to expand into Africa much as Western powers did in the last... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Desire is Mimetic: A Clinical Approach Jean-Michel Oughourlian Université de Besançon, American Hospital ofParis What is the clinical expression ofmimetic desire? Rivalry. What I see every day in my practice is not mimicking, nor copying, nor learning; it is rivalry. Rivalry is recurrent, it repeats itself. The repetition syndrome identified by psychoanalysis is mimetic for two reasons: 1) because it is always the clinical (...) expression of a rivalry and that rivalry is always mimetic; 2) because it reproduces itself, duplicates itself, imitating the circumstances of the first rivalry and always looking for an impossible victory. That victory is impossible, since it stems from a situation which mimics the circumstances of defeat. But those circumstances are the only ones of interest, since the only battle worth winning is the one that has every chance to be lost. Mimetic rivalry (as I have tried to show elsewhere1) is always rooted in one ofthe two following claims: the claim ofthe selffor the ownership of its own desire; and the claim of desire for its anteriority, its seniority over the other's desire, the other desire that has generated it, on which it is modeled. Clinically, the self and the desire are going to develop various strategies to ascertain those two claims. The interdividual psychotherapy has to diagnose the nodal points of the mimetic conflict. It has to see ' See Jean-Michel Oughourlian, The Puppet ofDesire: The Psychology ofHysteria, Possession, and Hypnosis, trans. Eugene Webb (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1991). Ed. 44Jean-Michel Oughourlian through the clinical variety of strategies and symptoms to the essential unity ofthe two claims underlying it. Let me give a few examples. Vengeance As we know, violence is mimetic. When violence cannot be immediately retaliated, imitated, duplicated, the energy for that retaliation is saved for later use. The more humiliating the violence, the greater the stored-up energy. Humiliation, in turn, stems from weakness: the humiliation of a child raped by an adult, ofa civilian beaten up by soldiers, ofa poor person insulted by a rich one, or, generally speaking, ofthe weak overpowered by the strong. Ifa weak person is the perpetrator ofthe first violence, it does not generate humiliation and, most ofthe time, does not entail vengeance. When an angered child kicks an adult, for example, this usually produces laughter rather than violence precisely because the child is smaller and weaker. As time goes by, the energy of postponed or deferred violence accumulates and increases. Clinically, it manifests itself in two ways: as a feeling ofhatred; and as a strength, a drive, a compulsive desire to destroy which will animate the offended and organize all his efforts in view ofthe vengeance that will set him free. The mimetic retaliation ofviolence will drive him until that retaliation is accomplished. In my experience, all the young girls who were raped by their fathers could not restore their mental health and psychological balance unless they were able, in one way or another, to avenge themselves. In the absence of such revenge, the enormous energy built up throughout their childhood and adolescence produced psychological symptoms which last for a lifetime. One such example is a patient, Miss L., 35 years old, who seeks treatment for alcoholism. It is a strange type ofalcoholism: each time, she must enter a meeting and speak before a group of people—and especially if her boss is in the group—she goes to the bathroom and drinks white rum from a hidden bottle. She has been in psychoanalysis for the past 12 years with no significant results. The history of her malady shows that she has wide mood swings, ups and downs often labeled as manic-depressive. Very quickly I see that she has stored within herself an enormous amount of violence which is fairly well controlled, but which manifests itselfthrough different types of aggressive behavior, especially towards men. A few sessions later, she finally tells me that she had been raped by her father and, as a consequence, that her parents had divorced. She was then obliged to remain with her father and take care ofhim. Psychoanalysis, of course, has Desire is Mimetic: A Clinical Approach45 commented extensively on the actual achievement ofher oedipal... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Mimetic Theory and Its Rivals:A Reply to Pablo BanderaRichard van Oort (bio)There are three ways to respond to a rival theory. You can ignore it, you can assimilate it to what you already believe, or you can assess its merits independently and then either reject it or adopt it as the better, more powerful theory. Let us briefly review these three strategies.1. Assuming you are already in possession (...) of a sufficiently powerful theory, a safe bet is simply to ignore the newcomer. Contrary to appearances, this is not a totally unreasonable strategy. Time is in short supply. Those in possession of a theory adequate to their purposes will naturally be hesitant to investigate a new one, the understanding of which may require considerable investment in time and imaginative effort. Better to let others do the risky and quite possibly foolhardy work of inventing and elaborating new theories. Chances are their attempts will fail anyway. Truly original ideas are hard to come by and, given this fact, it only makes sense to stick with what works rather than waste time on unfamiliar and unproven ideas.2. The second response is, on the surface at least, more gracious and benevolent, but this benevolence masks an intransigence quite as dogmatic [End Page 189] as the first. Thus we welcome the new theory into the fold, but with a view to assimilating it to what we already know. The new theory is not our rival but our friend. Rather than emphasize the differences, we point to the theory's similarities with our existing framework. The new theory is said to improve our understanding of one or two details, but these are held to be merely minor modifications and not at odds with what we hold to be fundamentally true. Thus the new theory is not really new at all. It is but another disciple of the old. Its claim to a place at the table is not at the head, as a rival leader and master, but alongside the other disciples whose collective task it is to disseminate the teachings of the one true master. This strategy is in fact extremely common and entirely understandable, from the viewpoint of both the adherents of the old theory and those of the new. For while the adherents of the old theory receive further confirmation of the superiority of their way of looking at the world, the adherents of the new theory receive a measure of respect by gaining access to an existing center of attention. As we all know, the mimetic attention space is by definition limited. We can't focus on everything at once, and sometimes the best strategy for a new theory is, so to speak, to follow the money. One piggybacks on the existing centers of attention. But the drawback is that the more one piggybacks, the less "new" one becomes.3. The third and final response is to take the new theory seriously as a rival center of attention. But this forces us into a genuine dilemma. For now we have to choose between theories that are accepted, for the time being at least, as equals in terms of their rivalry for our attention. But if both claim to be equally foundational, equally deserving of our attention to first things, then both cannot be equally true. One theory must come first; one must be superior to the other. But which?In a recent issue of Contagion, Pablo Bandera urges Girardians to adopt the third strategy when assessing Eric Gans's generative anthropology.1 We must recognize the theory's status as a genuine rival. Bandera believes that once the assessment has been fairly made, we must end up rejecting Gans's theory, at least insofar as it purports to be a theory of mimetic desire. The trouble is, Bandera claims, that most Girardians have adopted the second strategy, that is, they have simply assimilated Gans as a (slightly modified) version of Girard, without bothering to notice the very real differences between the two. The first strategy, complete ignorance of Gans's work, Bandera believes to be inaccurate as a description of the current situation. Indeed, he goes so... (shrink)

This article is an overview of Rene Girard's mimetic theory and its application to and implications for conflict in Africa. It accepts Girard's basic idea that imitation is a feature of all individuals but disagrees with his view that the Christian gospel can adequately eliminate mimetic rivalry and thereby lead to a non-sacrificial culture. Drawing from the concept of culture and the African experience of Christianity, it argues that the Christian influence in Africa has only produced a (...) hybrid culture, which draws heavily from the traditional culture. Thus, instead of demythologizing the culture, the gospel has actually introduced new myths into the African setting, which generate a new type of mimetic crisis that traditional forms of intervention are incapable of ameliorating. It argues that the Christian gospel as the precursor of the new myths cannot, in its current form, diffuse the crisis. The article suggests a re-engineering of the gospel to cater for this new reality and thus diffuse the crisis. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Mimetic Desire and the Nigerian Novel:The Case of Chike Momah's Titi: Biafran Maid in GenevaTerri Ochiagha (bio)René Girard's mimetic theory was first informed by Western canonical novels. Girard's paradigm, with its psychological, anthropological, and historical backing, provides explanations for universal phenomena like rivalry, violence, scapegoat mechanisms, and the religious processes of sin and redemption. While it is not reflected in his choice of literary subjects, Girard (...) has endeavored to assert the universality of mimetic desire and its implications in "Other," non-Western cultures. However, little or no attention has been paid to novels that do not circulate primarily within Western canonical circles. To start redressing this gap in the literature, I use Girard's mimetic theory to study a Nigerian novel, Chike Momah's Titi: Biafran Maid in Geneva and show how the paradigm is suited to a novel so distant in space, time, and culture from the famous works that first inspired it. Apart from identifying the nature and phases of mimetic desire that appear in the novel, I propose other possible triangulations of desire, separating out the mimetic from the nonmimetic, and address the possible implications of the homosexual nature of the novel's interracial triangular desire. [End Page 205]A First Encounter with the NovelSince I assume that neither the author nor the novel under discussion are well known to the readers of this article, I will briefly discuss the author and trace the outline of the plot, in order to allow for an uninterrupted flow in my explication of the dialectics of mimetic desire.The situation of Chike Momah in Nigerian letters is singular. He belongs to the Ibadan golden generation of authors, heralded by Chinua Achebe's first novel, Things Fall Apart (1958), and his contemporaries at University College, Ibadan, including the Nobel laureate Wole Soyinka, plus Chukwuemeka Ike, Elechi Amadi, Christopher Okigbo, Flora Nwapa, and J. P. Clark, among others. Despite his talent, Momah did not join the literary movement that his fellow alumni inaugurated. Almost 40 years later and two years prior to his retirement from his United Nations position in 1990, he began his literary career, which has yielded five novels and several essays. Being a firsthand witness to the birth of Nigerian written literature, he was sought after by biographers and conference organizers. However, his oeuvre has not garnered sufficient attention. This could be the result of a number of factors: first, the distribution of most of his novels has been limited; second, his writings began to emerge at a time when the literary reputations of his contemporaries had long since arrived at their zenith; and third, novels that primarily seek to entertain, as most of his do, are often disregarded in the realm of postcolonial criticism.Titi: Biafran Maid in Geneva (1999) is Momah's second novel. It is the sole Nigerian Civil War novel to portray the horrors of the conflict from the viewpoint of a Biafran family living in Geneva, the Okekes. Its excellent exploration of war trauma frames an entertaining story line. This involves Titi, the Okekes' maid, and her multiple love affairs. Mimetic desire sets in during the course of her relationship with Eddy Mafa and the love triangle that ensnares them with Suzanne, Eddy's European lover. This tangled web provides the perfect substrate on which to test Girard's theory of mimetic desire.Suzanne, Titi, and Eddy: The Genesis of Mimetic DesireAccording to Girard, mimetic desire occurs when we crave for an object, place, status, or person simply because someone else desires it. The resulting rivalry can bring us into conflict with the models we imitate. According to this theory, [End Page 206] the romantic concept of spontaneous desire is illusory since it is learned from the Other. One therefore learns the value of desired objects from desiring subjects. Mimetic desire is schematized by a triangle. However, as we will see, not all love triangles are triangulations of mimetic desire.In Titi: Biafran Maid in Geneva, the eponymous protagonist meets Eddy at the Okekes' house. They begin a relationship, which does not show many signs of prospering beyond its physicality. Apart from the fact that both... (shrink)

In his final original book, Battling to the End, Girard could hardly have been clearer: "Violence" he wrote, "can no longer be checked. From this point of view we can say that the apocalypse has begun."1Faced with the rise of global Islamist terror and the declaration of a "war against terror," Girard observed the collapse of politics as a mechanism to contain violence. History is not inevitably and dialectically converging on a rational Hegelian Aufhebung but has the pattern of a (...) duel, as observed by the Prussian military theorist Carl von Clausewitz after the defeat of the Prussian army by Napoleon's revolutionary French army at Jena. Far from converging on reconciliation, the logic of mimetic rivalry predicts... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:MIMETIC SADISM IN THE FICTION OF YUKIO MISHIMA Jerry Piven New York University Mishima Yukio (1925-1970) was one ofthe mostenigmatic authors of the 20th century. Novelist, playwright, actor, exhibiionist —his novels are rife with homoerotic and violent imagery, while his fanatical and nihilistic philosophy calls for a return to a Samurai ethos. Mishima thus attained infamy in Japan and in the West, as his shocking novels inspired hordes (...) ofyoung Japanese into a cult ofMishima worship, while critics who acknowledge his genius are still nervous about his sadistic homosexuality and his suicide. Mishima's works are suffused with erotic bloodshed and misogyny, and Mishima finally ended his life by ritually disemboweling himself. I will make the case that Mishima was incessantly plagued by torturous mimetic frustrations, and that his final act of spilling his blood and intestines can be interpreted as the result of mimetic hatred against his rivals. I also argue that Mishima was fundamentally schizoidal; in Girardian terms, a man whose hypocrisy for the sakeofdesire rendered him an exhibitionistic maskdisguisingmimetic rage and fear. Having previously written about Mishima from a psychoanalytic perspective, I believe that a Girardian approach would often yield drastically different interpretations of identical biographical and literary materials. ' 1I initially wrote on Mishima for several diagnostic assignments at my psychoanalytic institute, the National Psychological Association for Psychoanalysis (NPAP). After considering the psychoanalytic and Girardian approaches, I expanded these original essays using identical material to determine whetherthe interpretations orconclusions would differ; I was struck by the way the same details could provide both remarkable congruences and vast divergences ofperspective. Read side by side, one can find compatible conclusions, but one also finds perceptions ofthe same details that would be difficultto conceive or articulate 70Jeremy Piven Mimesis, misogyny, and maculacy Kimitake Hiraoka was a frail, sickly child before he became the muscular and exhibitionistic novelist Yukio Mishima. His brutal and helpless childhood inaugurated his mimetic complexes: his need to escape the suffocating and diseased environment of his grandmother, his rivalry with her, and his mimetic ideal ofbeauty and muscular invulnerability. Mishima was an unhealthy youth, taken from the arms of his mother before he was two months old, and confined to the sickroom of his grandmother for the first twelve years ofhis life. Under the auspices ofhis tyrannical and ostensively psychotic grandmother, Mishima lived in the dark, could play only female friends (becausetheywere deemed harmless), and could eat only gentle foods. He thus lived an imprisoned life away from his parents, amid the excrescences of his sick and hysterical grandmother until adolescence, when his father "reclaimed him." Mishima later rebelled against this sickly nature, sculpting himself into a statuesque ideal of masculine beauty. He became obsessed with martial arts and the eroticism ofhis own engraved body. His fiction and philosophy were permeated by misogyny, glorification ofGrecian male sexuality and aesthetics, and the repudiation ofanything weak or feminine. He finally killed himselfbefore age could wither his masculine beauty. Mishima's fiction prominently features protagonists who mirror his sickly youth. The autobiographical Confessions of a Mask (Kamen no Kokuhaku) describes the homoerotic development ofthis frail child. Such fraiIcharacters inMishima'sfiction arealwaysdrawneroticallytobeautiful males as both mimetic rivals and models. The narrator of Confessions describes his sexual attraction to a sewage collector, a "ladler of excrement"(8). Thehandsomemanwith "ruddycheeks" and "shiningeyes" fascinates the narrator, and he is filled with desire lookingathistightjeans. using psychoanalytic perspectives andjargon. Two ofthe original essays will be published inthePsychoanalyticReview in comingmonths: "PhallicNarcissism, Anal Sadism, and Oral Discord: The Case ofYukio Mishima (part I)," and "Narcissistic Revenge and Suicide: The Case ofYukio Mishima (part H)." I am currently translating these articles for publication in Japan. I included a brief discussion of Mishima in the introduction to Psychological Undercurrents ofHistory (Piven and Lawton, eds.), to explore the complex methodological and psychological dynamics of the field of psychohistory. A commentary on Mishima's traumaticchildhood entitled "The Pathology ofGenius," will appearin aforthcomingedition ofTapestry: TheJournalofHistoricalMotivations andtheSocialFabric, and afinal article, "Voyeurism and Rage in The Sailor Who Fellfrom Grace with the Sea," will appear in Psychological Undercurrents ofHistory, Volume II (2002). Mimetic Sadism in the Fiction ofYukio Mishima71 The narrator thus emerges into a burgeoning homosexuality, but he also fantasizes about dying dramatically. His... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Imitation, Mirror Neurons, and Mimetic Desire:Convergence Between the Mimetic Theory of René Girard and Empirical Research on ImitationScott R. GarrelsIntroductionUntil recently, the pervasive and primordial role of imitation in human life was either largely ignored or misunderstood by empirical researchers. This is no longer the case. It is now clear that investigations on human imitation are among the most profound and revolutionary areas of research contributing to (...) the future of a more unified and coherent understanding of the cognitive and social sciences. This ever-growing body of research has profound implications for a better understanding of the development and structure of human psychosocial functioning as well as cultural evolution, yet current applications lack insight into two essential aspects of human imitation: (1) its elemental role in generating uniquely human forms of relational competition, rivalry, and violence; and (2) the historical and anthropological role of religious /cultural beliefs and practices in transforming the effects of human imitation into viable and sustainable communities. Rene Girard's Mimetic Theory offers empirical researchers an already elaborated explanatory model that illuminates the way in which imitation is foundational to these universal human phenomena. Yet astonishingly, there have been no substantial studies concerning the critical question of human imitation that have applied and synthesized recent empirical research with the mimetic theory of human motivation and religious and cultural evolution.The initiation of such a detailed and comparative analysis is essential to understanding not only the historical relationship between culture and religion (and ultimately the evolution of the human species) but perhaps more importantly the pressing and complex relationship between violence, religion, and contemporary society. The mimetic theory of religion helps bring to light the mechanisms of social mimesis that produce the self-other distortions characteristic of behaviors ranging from primitive sacrificial rituals to the abhorred [End Page 47] atrocities of recent history; yet it also fundamentally elucidates the creative and historical role of the religious and cultural insights and practices based on human mimetic dynamics that continue to be indispensable in fostering alternative, nonviolent forms of progress and social cooperation in our contemporary world.The purpose of this article, then, is to advance the interdisciplinary dialogue first embarked on by Jean-Michel Oughourlian (1982), and continued in more detail by Eugene Webb (1993), concerning the convergence between empirical research on imitation and René Girard's theory of psychological mimesis. Psychological mimesis1 is the tendency of human beings to imitate the gestures, behaviors, intentions, and desires of other persons; it is the very cornerstone upon which the entire work of Girard is constructed. From this foundation, Girard has made a number of bold claims about human nature and the resulting origin and structure of human culture and religion. Girard's work is immense in scope and has far reaching implications across such diverse disciplines as anthropology, primitive religion, psychology, literary analysis, theology, and philosophy. Any theory attempting to cover this much ground will undoubtedly draw an enormous amount of criticism, and Girard's work has been no exception. Regardless of this, "Girard's hypotheses about the pragmatics of imitative interaction, and more specifically, about the influence of imitation on motivation, represent a unique and significant contribution that merits a careful examination" (Livingston 1992, xvi).The ability of mimetic theory to effectively address the various disciplines it claims to interpret will depend significantly upon its capacity to clarify and validate the primordial role of mimesis in psychosocial development and functioning. Webb (1993) has emphasized that while Girard's work has many broader anthropological and historical implications, the most essential aspect of his theory is that of psychological mimesis. On this point Webb concluded:Thus there is good reason to think not only that [psychological mimesis] deserves a careful hearing but also that it should prove widely useful for psychologists in providing an explanatory framework for the sorts of systematic relationship that many are currently investigating.(213)While Paisley Livingston (1992) has attempted a systematic presentation of Girard's ideas on mimesis, to my knowledge the "careful hearing" that Webb called for has not taken place through an engagement with the empirical sciences. This is remarkable when one considers the enormous output of imitation research... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Philosophic Foundations of Mimetic Theory and Cognitive Science(Including Artificial Intelligence)Jean-Pierre Dupuy (bio)In the mid 1970s I discovered at the same time cognitive science and mimetic theory. Being a philosopher with a scientific background, I immediately brought them together and tried to reconceptualize the latter in terms of the former. In a sense, I haven't stopped doing that in the last 45 years. That is why I (...) feel fully at home with the goals pursued by the organizers of this conference.I do not believe it is feasible or even desirable to operate the rapprochement between the two disciplines at a global level. The history of cognitive science is exceedingly involved, and the part played by artificial intelligence in it compared to the part played by the neurosciences has varied greatly over time.1 Only a piecemeal approach makes sense. I present here four short case studies that cover the whole period, from the beginnings in cybernetics to today's artificial intelligence (AI).In order to better situate these studies within a broader frame, I propose the diagram in Figure 1. To comment on it would require more time than available for my whole presentation. Let me just say the following. [End Page 1]It is essential to distinguish between two kinds of AI. The first to bear this name was launched by economist Herbert Simon and computer scientist Allan Newell at a Dartmouth conference in 1956. It was based on the premise that thinking is computing, with this computation bearing on sentences of a "language of thought" implementable in a digital computer. It turns out that this AI(1) was progressively substituted from the 1980s onward by an AI(2), which, to some extent, was a return to a fundamental result obtained by cybernetics in 1943. Neurophysiologist Warren McCulloch and mathematician Walter Pitts had constructed a mathematical model of a network of elementary calculators called "neurons" and explored its properties. The capacity to "think" was one of these. It was not situated at the elementary level, as was the case in AI(1), but it emerged at the collective level from the interactions between the neurons.This model was heavily criticized by the supporters of AI(1),2 and its first implementations, in the notorious "Perceptron" in particular (1957), were pitiful failures. However, the emergence of "second-order cybernetics" under the guidance of cybernetician Heinz von Foerster and the theory of complex, self-organizing systems that it helped develop, in cooperation and rivalry with similar efforts in the physical sciences, enabled the neural network model to come to a second life under different names: formal neurons, deep learning, big data, and the like. Together, they constitute AI(2).The following network of influences wouldn't have been possible without its stem, that is, the boxes containing the names of Kurt Gödel and Alan Turing. The former revolutionized logic by showing that reasoning about arithmetic and arithmetic are one and the same, insofar as it is possible to code in a 1-to-1 fashion propositions about integers (for instance, "7 is a prime number") by means of integers. The latter demonstrated that some mechanisms can self-transcend inasmuch as they generate an ensemble of outputs that cannot be defined mechanistically. Later, John von Neumann, who is credited along with Alan Turing with having invented the digital computer, would use this logical possibility to define complexity: A mechanism is complex if it is capable of generating one more complex than itself. The gate was open for the theories of complex, self-organizing systems to thrive and, by way of consequence, for AI(2) to emerge.fascination with modelsHerbert Simon (1916–2001), winner of the Nobel Prize in economics for his work on what he called "bounded rationality," is generally considered to be one [End Page 2] Click for larger view View full resolutionFigure 1.of the founders of artificial intelligence. Some cognitive scientists still rely on the computer program that he devised with Alan Newell to simulate the creative processes of human thought—a program aptly named "General Problem Solver." The title of one of his principal works, The Sciences of the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:ABORTION AS A SACRAMENT: MIMETIC DESIRE AND SACRIFICE IN SEXUAL POLITICS Bernadette Waterman Ward SUNY-Oswego "If men got pregnant, abortion would be a sacrament." That familiar taunt is mostly aimed at Roman Catholics to humiliate them for their purportedly religious and anti-rational opposition to abortion. It is conventional to sniffthat the "religious assumptions" on which disapproval of abortion is "typically based" are "highly questionable" (Chambers 1). But the (...) cultural theories of René Girard suggest that it is because men don't get pregnant that abortion already is a sacrament. The key elements of sacrificial religion, as Girard defines it, are the presence of intolerable tension that must lead to social disruption; the choice of a victim who cannot strike back to absorb the community's violence; and the concealment ofthe function ofthe sacrifice, which employs actual violence for the purpose of stabilizing institutional violence. Abortion in America is upheld not as medical or even political policy, but as, in fact, a religious sacrifice. Girard's definition ofreligion requires neither a moral code nor a divinity nor a metaphysical grounding. The cult of Dionysus, to name only one example, evidently endorsed nothing we would recognize as a general code of morality; Buddhism, a far more august example, does not focus on a divinity; animism proposes no universal metaphysics. As to sacraments, Bernadette Waterman Ward19 Thomas Aquinas, following St. Augustine, did not scruple to call nonChristian sacrifices sacraments oftheir religions, "Whether true or false."' Scapegoating defines religious sacrifice. It protects the sacrificing community and promotes its unity—so long as all believe that the scapegoat must suffer. Often the victim is called an enemy to some established order; sacrifice is always conservative, even if it upholds an inherently unstable system. Because powerlessness, not real disruptive power, is the criterion for becoming a scapegoat, sacrifice requires a strong shared illusion. Classical religions provide unopposable gods to choose the tragically necessary victims, allowing strong ambivalence to surround the sacrifice itself. Ifthis is not present, the death or banishment takes on a different character—more political than religious, though Girard notes a fundamental unity between those two methods ofcontrolling mimetic violence. Mimetic violence originates in illusion surrounding a rivalry. Often there is an object involved, such as territory or wealth or political rank, but the object, which seems important, is actually irrelevant. The rivalry can continue, seeking new objects, whatever concrete acquisitions either party makes or loses. General, aimless rivalry dominates a social world of fragile, undefined selves in which anyone can be a model for imitation, and therefore anyone can be a threat to one's sense ofself. What an imitator actually seeks is to have whatever is desirable; most desirable ofall, perhaps, is the ability to know what is desirable, a mysterious quality that is constantly attributed to others; Girard calls this quality "being." From the nursery we are each other's disciples, wanting each other's toys not because of their inherent virtue so much as because someone else has seen some virtue in them. As human desire has no real single object, it has no closure; envy and revenge threaten others in a widening net of destruction. In the classic scenario, the model whose "being" has become matter for imitation finds himself in competition for the object, and attacks the rival, who returns in kind. A disciple who can rally aspire to the model's status can become a dangerous, even a deadly rival; in imagination, and sometimes in reality, they turn each other intp monsters. Yet as the desire has no single object, neither has the rage: the violence can be easily transferred to another object than one's rival. Sometimes those who are uneasy about their status in relation to one another can cement a powerful unity by focusing blame on some common target: a scapegoat. The Orwellian scenario is in fact the normal scenario: individuals caught in the maelstrom of social instability 'Summa Theologiae, 3a.61.1 31. 20Abortion as a Sacrament seek to avoid victimization by diverting the violence into blame and destruction directed, first of all, against someone else—and, if possible, against someone who cannot strike back: a sacrifice. Not all sacrificial religious... (shrink)

This paper explores the intersection of René Girard's mimetic theory and the algorithmic society, particularly in the context of the potential advent of Artificial General Intelligence (AGI). Girard's theory, which elucidates the dynamics of desire, rivalry, scapegoating, and the sacrificial crisis, provides a unique lens through which to examine the complexities of our relationship with AI and its role in the creation of the sacred. As individuals increasingly rely on AI recommendations, the distinction between personal choice and algorithmic (...) manipulation becomes less clear, raising concerns about the authenticity of cultural expressions and the role of algorithms in shaping cultural narratives. The triangular structure of desire, with AI as the model and individuals as the imitators, underscores the power of algorithms in this process. The sacrificial crisis, a key concept in Girard's theory, becomes a critical point of reflection in the algorithmic society. The exposure of the scapegoating mechanism reveals the destructive potential of algorithmic manipulation and calls for new forms of understanding, empathy, and non-violent solutions. This paper argues that recognizing the sacrificial crisis can prompt individuals and society to critically examine the impact of AI's influence, challenge the narratives it perpetuates, and reclaim agency in the face of algorithmic dominance. This paper further discusses the potential implications of the emergence of AGI, which could intensify the influence of algorithms on the creation of the sacred due to its advanced cognitive capabilities and deep understanding of human desires and behaviors. This could fuel a rapid evolution of the mimetic ecosystem, with profound implications for personal freedom, independent decision-making, and the formation and preservation of individual identity. This paper concludes by emphasizing the need for responsible algorithmic practices and ethical considerations to ensure that the creation of the sacred serves the common good in the algorithmic society. (shrink)

In Violence and the Sacred (henceforth, V&S), Rene Girard remarks that when we think of siblings, we often think of affectionate relationships.1 He then proposes, however, that the stories that have come down to us through mythology and sacred scriptures often tell us otherwise. Warring siblings are embedded deeply in history, religion, and literature: Girard lists Cain and Abel, Jacob and Esau, Eteocles and Polyneices, Romulus and Remus, Richard the Lionheart and John Lackland as just a few examples of the (...) fraternal rivalry in our collective consciousness. We might add the biblical Isaac and Ishmael and Joseph and his brothers to this list. The rivalries are so pervasive that Girard declares: “the theme itself is .. (shrink)

This essay concerns political identities as related to the existence of an enemy. Here are four methodological key points as topics for discussion.Even in the natural biological environment, where imitation has its real beginning, we find not only a subject and an object, but also a third element: René Girard calls it "the model of desire."1 The subject desires the object insofar as the model is imagined to want the same object. Therefore, mankind's dependence on the model is, as it (...) always was, the modus operandi of hyper-mimetic beings. It is not solely a distorted compulsion that transforms the model into a "material" obstacle to obtaining the object.As for mimetism, it must be underlined that rivalry... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Denial of PeterRené Girard, Mimetic Desire, and ConversionWilliam E. Cain (bio)Man is the creature who does not know what to desire, and he turns to others in order to make up his mind. We desire what others desire because we imitate their desires.—René GirardI believe in commitment … We must be committed to one position and follow it through.—René GirardIn many books and essays throughout his long (...) career, the literary critic and cultural theorist René Girard presented, developed, and extended provocative ideas about, and insights into, mimetic desire. Our desires are not our own, Girard emphasizes; they do not come from within. We form our desires on the desires that we perceive in others; they are our models; we imitate them. Always, we seek to be aligned with the words and deeds of an envied model or, more generally, with those of a dominant group or crowd. [End Page 101]As Girard defines it, desire is extremely potent and controlling. We cannot resist its force, and all too often it propels individuals and societies into rivalry, hatred, and violence. There are descriptions of this formidable power in Sophocles, Shakespeare, and other great writers of the Western tradition, as Girard has demonstrated. But, even more, Girard maintains that we witness the operation, that is, the revelation, of mimetic desire—its origins, its consequences—in the Hebrew Bible and the New Testament.The temptation and sin of Adam and Eve, the story of Joseph and his brothers, the judgment of Solomon, the story of Job, the crucifixion of Jesus—these are some of Girard's recurring examples. However, the Biblical episode that may have mattered the most to him, one that he invoked repeatedly, is the Denial of St. Peter.The details of this story differ somewhat from one gospel to the next—Girard prefers the version of it in the gospel of Mark—but the core of it is this: At the Last Supper, Jesus predicted that Peter would deny him three times; Peter swore that he would not, but when the time of testing came, he did. When others confronted him, the fearful Peter, desiring to belong, desperate to be safely within the group, denied that he knew who Jesus was: "I do not know the man you speak of" (Mark 14:71).1Girard's explications of the Denial bring into focus his theory of mimetic desire. His reiterated point about St. Peter is really a point about us—that we are the same as this disciple: We would have betrayed Jesus too. In New Testament studies, some have claimed that "the story about Peter is simply a concretizing of the general denial of all the disciples."2 In our own times of test and trial, we have acted and will act as Peter did.Consider Girard's treatment of the Denial in Le Sacrifice (2003; English trans. 2011).3 The mob that calls for Jesus's death, Girard explains, "is constituted and nourished by swallowing up everything that passes within its reach. It is the black hole of violent mimeticism; where mimeticism is most dense, the mob emerges."4"The major example," he continues, "is that of Peter's denial":Peter cannot help but imitate their hostility. If we psychologize this denial, if we attribute it to the suggestible temperament of the apostle, we seek to prove (unconsciously) that in Peter's place, we would not have denied Jesus. It should be recalled that before his denial Peter, too, vows never to deny Jesus. He is too preoccupied with the opinion others have of him not to blindly adopt the politically correct attitude of the milieu at the center of which he has the misfortune of finding himself.5 [End Page 102] Click for larger view View full resolutionFigure 1."All the actors and witnesses of the crucifixion," Girard concludes, "are already hostile to Jesus or they become so, for mimeticism spares no one."6We cannot resist the influence of the mob: Inevitably we succumb to it. No more than Peter would we have remained steadfast. There is nothing inherent in Peter as an individual that explains why he... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Violent Conflict, the Struggle for Identity, and the Contagion of Mimetic Desire in the Prison EnvironmentCarlos GarciaMy name is Carlos Garcia. I am 56 years old and a junior class member of the Hope College–Western Theological Seminary Prison Education Program. I have lived my entire life in the state of Michigan. Unfortunately, more than forty of those years have been spent in juvenile detention centers, county jails, rehabilitation (...) centers, reformatories, and prisons. I have been accused, tried, and convicted legitimately, and wrongfully, for just about every crime less than murder. Needless to say, I know a thing or two about violence. As a result, I have embarked on a journey to understand and make use of those things I have learned in the field of mimetic desire to challenge the current system of prison politics. This writing is what I hope will be the first of many steps toward comprehensible prison reform and lasting rehabilitative programing within the Michigan Department of Corrections and beyond.What is it that makes the prison environment such a volatile place? Could it be the nature or character of the kind of men and women that fill its beds? What, then, does this say about the societies from which they came? Societies may have, in fact, played the greatest role in creating who they have come to be. [End Page 95] Could it be that their communities shaped their natures and made them into the kinds of people that many now fear and look at with curious fascination? Who we think we are might surprise us. Furthermore, who we think we "might" be may surprise us even more.This essay attempts to address and answer the question, "What role does mimetic desire play in the prison environment, and what effect might it have on the violence therein?" It also addresses how inmate identity might be shaped. Does the intentional limitation of material, intellectual, social, and spiritual resources that one may have also restrict individuality in a way that creates an environment of sameness? I suggest the answer is a resounding "yes." As such, mimetic desire becomes the driving force behind the violence therein.It is, I argue, this environment of sameness and the disintegration of differences—not the differences, in and of themselves—that ultimately leads to mimetic desire, competition, and rivalry. Often, and to the point, this environment is where winning the rivalry replaces the initial desire for the material, intellectual, or social object as the desired goal.As I unpack and answer the question and argument just offered, it is important that we first understand the premise upon which they have been formulated. Mimesis, mimetic desire, and mimetic theory are rooted in the idea of imitation. Mimesis, in and of itself, is nothing new. It is simply defined as "imitation or mimicry."1 In context of this essay, however, I address mimetic desire more specifically, as it has been theorized by its founder, French professor of history and literature René Girard. Luke Burgis, the author of Wanting: Mimetic Desire in Everyday Life, defines mimesis as "A sophisticated form of imitation that in adults is usually hidden. In mimetic theory, mimesis has a negative connotation because it usually leads to rivalry and conflict."2 Mimetic desire is defined as "Desire generated and formed through the imitation of what someone else has already desired."3 This means that what we want or desire is what the other—someone we might consider to be a model or mediator—wants, or desires, not necessarily because of the intrinsic value of the object, but because of the value we perceive the other's desire has placed on it. Again, it is mimetic desire sitting at the center of most conflicts and of the struggle for identity (i.e., autonomy) that I believe makes the prison environments volatile.We, as a species, struggle to find our place in the world. Each of us is trying to create our own identities, individually, culturally, collectively, even nationally. In very few places is the struggle more real, or its potentially violent consequences more severe, than in the prison environment. The identities of most inmates have been lost or stripped... (shrink)

René Girard developed his theory largely as a response to what he saw as Freud's profound discovery, namely, a recognition that violence and conflict are at the root of all social relations. Girard, however, rejected Freud's psychology of the autonomous subject and his emphasis on the family of origin dynamics in favor of the intersubjective experience of mimetic desire occurring between persons anywhere at any age. With imitation of others as the guiding theoretical principle of mimetic theory, Girard (...) placed psychological movement in the relational realm and developed a psychology of interdividuality that offers a convincing account of the contagious rivalry that either directly or tacitly flows through much human... (shrink)

While the majority of organised religions determine the origins of religion itself in an act of divine revelation, social science literature takes an evolutionary perspective. Without engaging the question of origin of religion from either perspective, this article proposes seven correlations between interpersonal violence and the progression of organised religion by suggesting that interpersonal violence plays a significant role in the institutionalising process of organised religion. Although interpersonal violence does not necessarily cause the structuring of faith, it reinforces and provides (...) solutions to the existing patterns of threat faced by the community, which together lead to the organisation of religion. The first part of this article (stages 1–4) surveys the psychology of violence by focusing on the theories of frustration–aggression, mimetic rivalry, triangulation and the genesis of scapegoating and guilt. The second part (stages 5–6) marks the transition from personal to social psychology and surveys violence in the primitive religion, as manifested in the ritualising process of the scapegoat, and the genesis of sacrifice. The third part (stage 7) highlights the complexity of ritual, ethics and doctrine, in the evolution of religion from a primitive state to an advanced organised institution. (shrink)

“Why is there so much violence in our midst?” René Girard asks. “No question is more debated today. And none produces more disappointing answers.” In Girard’s mimetic theory it is the imitation of someone else’s desire that gives rise to conflict whenever the desired object cannot be shared. This mimetic rivalry, Girard argues, is responsible for the frequency and escalating intensity of human conflict. For Girard, human conflict comes not from the loss of reciprocity between humans but (...) from the transition, imperceptible at first but then ever more rapid, from good to bad reciprocity. In this landmark text, Girard continues his study of violence in light of geopolitical competition, focusing on the roots and outcomes of violence across societies latent in the process of globalization. The volume concludes in a wide-ranging interview with the Sicilian cultural theorist Maria Stella Barberi, where Girard’s twenty-first century emphases on the continuity of all religions, global conflict, and the necessity of apocalyptic thinking emerge. (shrink)

Compelling voices charge that the theological notion of “sacrifice” valorizes suffering and fosters a culture of violence by the claim that Christ’s death on the Cross paid for human sins. Beneath the ‘sacred’ violence of sacrifice, René Girard discerns a concealed scapegoat-murder driven by a distortion of human desire that itself must lead to human self-annihilation. I here ask: can one speak safely of sacrifice; and can human beings somehow cease to practice the sacrifice that must otherwise destroy them? Drawing (...) on Gregory the Great (ca. 540–604), I propose an understanding of sacrifice that both distinguishes Christian sacrifice from sacred violence and accounts for how to overcome the roots of the sacred violence identified by Girard. I make four claims: First, Girard recognizes two kinds of sacrifice—one, the scapegoat murder, overcomes community rivalries by unanimous imitation of an accuser, shifting blame onto a third party who is collectively murdered; the other sort of sacrifice practices renunciation and forgiveness in imitation of God. These I respectively designate the “Satanic” (Girard’s term) and the “theomimetic” (mine). Second, I analyze the intrinsic instability that keeps the Satanic from sustaining the societal order and unity that it promises. Third, by a constructive reading of Gregory the Great, I posit that satanic sacrifice overlooks and indeed exacerbates the root of human covetousness—a failure to love. Fourth, Gregory’s teaching on the imitation of Christ enables us to expand on Girard’s account of the theo¬mimetic sacrifice of renunciation, to clarify how this latter might not only oppose but also systematically subvert the Satanic by healing the disorder out of which mimetic rivalry and scapegoating first take their rise. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:An I for an I: Projection, Subjection, and Christian Antisemitism in The Service for RepresentingAdam1 Richard J. Prystowsky Irvine Valley College You know well enough how to look in a mirror: Now look at this hand for me, and tell If my heart is sick or healthy. The Servicefor Representing Adam Far from experience producing his idea of the Jew, it was the latter which explained his experience. If (...) the Jew did not exist, the anti-Semite would invent him. Jean-Paul Sartre, Anti-Semite and Jew These wretched Jews, my own kindred, /... have more to be unhappy about than other peoples. The Holy Resurrection No modern theorist has done more to help us understand the nature of inter- and intra-personal and communal violence than has René Girard. Perhaps his most important insight into the workings of such violence, an insight grounding his other provocative discoveries concerning human conflict, is that the antagonistic participants in acts ofinter- and intra-personal and communal violence are "doubles" of each other. By demonstrating that 1 In their hyphenated forms, the terms "anti-Semite," "anti-Semitism," and "anti-Semitic" have sometimes proved more problematic than helpful. In order to avoid "fosterfing] the false impression that there is a wider ethnic entity against which 'anti-Semitism' is leveled" (Telushkin 467), and in light of the importance of the concept of antisemitism to the history of Jewhating, throughout this essay I follow the lead of those scholars who do not hyphenate the words "antisemite," "antisemitism," or "antisemitic." For more information concerning this issue, see Telushkin. 140Richard J. Prystowsky people fight not because they are different, but because they are the same, Girard has shown us how "violence is a great leveler of men" and has helped us to understand the serious consequences that either follow or can follow from mimetic rivalry (Violence 79). For example, he has helped us see how the internal violence occurring in a community in which differentiation has broken down finds its outlet in scapegoating, that mechanism by means of which a community in conflict with itself attempts to save itselfby sacrificing an expendable, arbitrary victim (who lacks a champion but whose real guilt or innocence is irrelevant) onto whom the collective victimizers have projected their own guilt, their own mimetically-oriented self-hatred—their own "sins," we might say. Among other things, Girard's critique of the mimetic rivalry characteristic of what we might call "the conflicted communal Self" also sheds light on the nature of the violence and victimization that we find in the history of Christian persecution of Jews. Without referring to Girard's ideas, the eminent historian Léon Poliakov nevertheless captures a Girardian view of this tragic history when he writes that "to massacre first, and then, from fear of revenge, to accuse afterward; to attribute to the victims one's own aggressive intentions; to impute to them one's own cruelty: from country to country and from century to century, under various disguises, this is the device we find" (106-7). In the present essay, I will attempt to show that such vengeance-laden acts of Christian persecution of Jews, of the Jew-as-Other, derive from antisemitic Christians' mimetic rivalry with Jews—an "I" for an "I," as this essay's title would suggest—and that underlying this rivalry is the introjection ofreal or imagined Jewish self-hatred.2 1 hope to demonstrate that this projected intra-victimization is marked, in part, by Christians' mimetic appropriations of fantasized or real acts of Jewish self-incrimination, punishment, or more generalized suffering. Ultimately, I will try to provide support for the idea that, despite its obvious promise and appeal of love, peace, and brotherhood, Christianity cannot wrest itself entirely from its moorings in real or fantasized Jewish self-hatred, that is, in an appropriation of enacted or imagined Judaism against itself. If my contentions prove even partially legitimate, then an overwhelming question for good-faith Christians is whether or not the peculiar brand of antisemitism discussed above is endemic to Christianity and, if it is, whether 2Sander L. Oilman's Jewish Self-Hatredremains the preeminent work on the relationship between Jewish self-hatred and antisemitism. Among... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Fortuyn, Van Gogh, Hirsi AliWhy the Unholy Trinity Was Driven Out of the NetherlandsHenri Beunders (bio)“Vulnerability” and “tolerance” are pretty vague notions. A lot of suggestions, images, and good intentions cling to them, while scientific clarity is virtually absent.The same goes for the Netherlands. Abroad, my country had the image of a tolerant, liberal, and free society, a place where things could be said and done that were forbidden (...) elsewhere. So the question is: how on earth did this country turn into a battlefield due to a clash of civilizations almost overnight?I will try to explain to you how and why in the past decades the Netherlands became so vulnerable that in 2002 a political revolt broke out quite unexpectedly, a revolt that lasted for years and still is not over yet. The crisis resulted in two people becoming victims of political killings, while a third had to flee the country. Because all three of these people were liberal individualists who criticized two types of religion—the political-cultural left, or “Red Church,” and fundamentalist Islam—I will refer to them as the unholy trinity, an unholy trinity that had to be exorcized to restore the peace.Freedom of speech and freedom of religion are key factors in the Dutch crisis. Cultural wars and mimetic rivalry are other factors. Americanization and the advent of the multicultural society are the forces profondes. [End Page 201]I: Tolerance and the Dutch ConstitutionLet us talk briefly about tolerance first. Everybody seems to be in favor of it, except when we collectively decide we must not tolerate things, like drunk driving, smoking in public buildings, and so on.In the present Dutch constitution, created in 1983, article 1 begins with these sentences: “All persons in the Netherlands shall be treated equally in equal circumstances. Discrimination on the grounds of religion, belief, political opinion, race, or sex or on any other grounds whatsoever shall not be permitted.”1In essence, the constitution states that a colored Dutchman has the right to be treated in the same way as a white one. This has, however, nothing to do with tolerance. Tolerance means that a dominant group permits a nondominant group to have opinions or lifestyles that seem to deviate from the usual order. If we ask natives to be tolerant toward exotic immigrants, this implies hierarchy. There is a group that tolerates, and there is a group that is tolerated. In the strict sense of the word, tolerance implies discrimination and is therefore hostile to the constitution.As a Dutch historian once remarked, every philosopher who thought about these things, like John Locke, Mirabeau, or Thomas Paine, knew that the notion of religious tolerance is useless if you assume all men by nature to have inviolable rights anyway, like those of freedom of thought, expression, and religion.2Of course, a nation-state has to be intolerant sometimes, for instance, when freedom of religion is used to undermine the state, when, for example, the state is promoting violence, which in democratic societies is the monopoly of the state. This is a matter of principle. The rest is a matter of political debate.At this point we have to conclude that trying to give meaning to a word such as tolerance can be very complicated and confusing, and that such a word has to be used very carefully. The same goes for all those other container words, like racism, fascism, populism, and so forth, that have been used so frequently in recent decades to label and scapegoat people and things that are feared or simply disliked. But words are important.The idle and gratuitous manner in which container words of this kind are used to denounce “the enemy” represents the other side of the so-called liberal, “tolerant” society of the Netherlands. All this name calling definitely keeps you from researching and facing the things that are really going on. During the 1990s, this name calling resulted in the dominance of political correctness, a phenomenon that leaves no room for doubt as to who the angels and devils are in society, and it implies that there is no need to look... (shrink)

A major theme in René Girard’s work involves the role of the Bible in exposing the scapegoating practices at the basis of culture. The God of the Bible is understood to be a God who takes the side of victims. The God of the Qur’an is also a defender of victims, an idea that recurs throughout the text in the stories of messengers and prophets. In a number of ways, Jesus is unique among the prophets mentioned in the Qur’an. It (...) is argued here that while the Quranic Jesus is distinctly Islamic, and not a Christian derivative, he functions in the Qur’an in a way analogous to the role Jesus plays in the gospels. In its depiction of Jesus, the Qur’an is acutely aware of mimetic rivalry, scapegoating, and the God who comes to the aid of the persecuted. Despite the significant differences between the Christian understanding of Jesus as savior and the way he is understood in the Qur’an, a Girardian interpretation of the Qur’anic Jesus will suggest ways in which Jesus can be a bridge rather than an obstacle in Christian/Muslim dialogue. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Mimesis, Violence, and Socially Engaged Buddhism: Overture to a Dialogue Leo D. Lefebure University ofSaint Mary ofthe Lake René Girard's analysis ofdesire, mimetic rivalry, and the surrogate victim mechanism seeks to transform human consciousness in order to overcome seemingly intractable patterns ofrivalry and violence. In this project the Buddhist tradition, with its long commitment to nonviolence, its age-old suspicion of ordinary views of the self, and its (...) ancient experience of meditation as a transformative practice, exerts a claim to attention. The Buddhist tradition shares many of Girard's concerns: It denies the reality ofan autonomous, independent selfand calls attention to the interdependence ofall realities. It challenges its followers to become conscious ofthe sources oftheir own feelings and thoughts, to accept responsibility for them, and to be liberated from violence. Like Girard, Buddhism rejects the notion that there can be "good violence" as well as bad. For Buddhists, awakening from the illusions of the autonomous selfand freedom from violence are inseparable. The term, "Socially Engaged Buddhism," refers to a variety ofBuddhist move-ments since the 1950s which seek to apply ancient Buddhist principles to contemporary social, economic, and political problems. Powerful prejudices, however, threaten this conversation before it begins. Since the writings of Arthur Schopenhauer and Max Weber, Westerners have often seen Buddhism as a pessimistic religion, a worldnegating tradition that encourages the individual to withdraw from the world and seek a solitary salvation. The belief in karma has often been 122Leo D. Lefebure interpreted as fatalistic and inimical to social transformation. Buddhism, especially in the Mahayana traditions, has often accommodated to the dominant powers in society without exerting any effective social or political critique. Like every other major religious tradition, Buddhism has had an ambiguous history; and Westerners have often assumed prematurely that Buddhism has no history of social and political engagement whatsoever. Girard himself, in conversation with Jean-Claude Dussault in 1981, viewed Buddhism as a withdrawal from action in the world. Girard commented: Alors il me semble que la non-violence des religions orientales est la recherche d'une position hors de la violence, nirvana, etc., au prix de toute action. Mais cette recherche abandonne le monde en quelque sorte à lui-même. Alors il me semble que s'il fallait résumer d'un mot, ce serait un mot comme dégagement absolu par rapport à l'existence. ("Séminaire de recherche" 81) [It seems to me that the nonviolence of Eastern religions is the search for a position outside of violence, nirvana, etc., at the price ofall action. But this search abandons the world in a way to itself. Now it seems to me that if it were necessary to sum it up in a formula, it would be a phrase such as absolute détachement in regard to existence.] Later in the conversation, Girard expressed his own negative reaction: "Si vous voulez, je me sens profondément gréco-biblico-occidental face à ce renoncement nirvanesque total." (83) [If you please, I feel myself profoundly greco-biblical-occidental in contrast to this complete nirvanesque renunciation.] According to Girard's interpretation, Buddhism offers no constructive solution to the social problems ofrivalry and violence, but only an individual escape through withdrawal. Closely related to Girard's negative view ofBuddhism is his interpretation ofall non-biblical religions as channeling violence but as powerless to break the cycle ofviolence. He claims that only biblical revelation offers a basis for overcoming the violence of the surrogate victim mechanism: "To recognize Christ as God is to recognize him as the only being capable of rising above the violence that had, up to that point, absolutely transcended mankind. Violence is the controlling agent in every form ofmythic or cultural structure, and Christ is the only agent who is capable of escaping from these structures and freeing us from their dominance" (1987, Mimesis, Violence, and Socially Engaged Buddhism 123 219). Girard asserts that there is no common ground between the violenceridden mythologies which dominate all other religions and the revelation of God in Christianity (1986, 166). Girard is almost Barthian in his exclusivistic claims for Christian revelation, viewing all other religions as products of human mimetic striving and only Christianity as the true... (shrink)

In his last book René Girard depicts apocalypse as disclosure of mimetic violence that is world-ending. He claims that in times of violent pandemic we are not called to fight for this world, but follow Christ in his withdrawal from the world. However, such an assertion creates serious theoretical and practical issues for the effort to heal interhuman relations from the virus of mimetic hostility. I argue for the importance of restoring a foundational distinction between passionate love and (...) acquisitive mimetic desire from the forgotten regions of Girard’s oeuvre. With Max Scheler’s interpretation of Stendhal’s concept of l’amour passion, I explore in each thinker a fundamental insight about possibilities of transforming violent contagion through empathy and loving commitment to the world. I conclude that respective “passive” and “active” approaches to the contagion of mimetic rivalry and violence are necessary and equally valuable. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:"WITH A ROD OR IN THE SPIRIT OF LOVE AND GENTLENESS?" PAUL AND THE RHETORIC OF EXPULSION IN 1 CORINTHIANS 5 Dizdar Drasko Australian Catholic University II "n 1 Corinthians 5 Paul is dealing with a serious case of sexual.misconduct. He is understood to be urging the expulsion ofa member of the church for incest. Incest is, of course, a serious sexual crime, universally abhorred and prohibited. It has (...) the potential to cause much harm to a community. Not only does it bring disrepute to any who are accused of it, but also to any who appear to condone it. It is scandalous: a cause or at least a symptom—of deep social disease, division, and even disintegration. That Paul should urge—indeed, command—the immediate and uncompromising expulsion ofthe incestuous evildoer, without even the hint of any kind of due process of inquiry and trial for the accused, seems obvious. Does it? To whom? And why? This article will reread 1 Cor 5 as part of Paul's response to what he saw as the attempt ofthe divided Corinthian community (see 1 Cor 1:10-13, 11:18, 2 Cor 10- 13) to regain its lost unity in the only way it knew how: by cleansing itself of undesirable elements among their number and thereby re-establishing harmony by means of the tried and true method, the scapegoat mechanism. The main thesis ofthis article is that Paul, far from joining in a bit of classical scapegoating, shows it up for what it is: puffed up arrogance, or "inflation." as he calls it (5:2), and a blind mimicking of the very sacrificial system the Corinthians, as "spiritual people" (see 1 Cor 3:1), so self-righteously think they are above. Since this article is methodologically informed by the work ofthe literary critic and cultural theorist René Girard, our preliminary task will 1 62Dizdar Drasko be to outline his method, establishing aworking hermeneutical context. We will focus on five key ideas in Girardian theory that have immediate relevance for our reading of 1 Cor 5, namely: the mimetic nature ofdesire; the often resulting rivalry and conflict; the role of scandal; the accusatory principle; and the scapegoat mechanism ofthe sacrificial system. We then need to establish the textual context that precedes 1 Cor 5 by offering a brief summary ofthe letter leading up to the text under discussion. That will enable us to engage in a close rereading ofthe said passage, for which our main exegetical dialogue partner will be the recent commentary on First Corinthians by Raymond F. Collins. Desire's Double-Bind: Mimesis, Rivalry, and the Victim The important anthropological role??mimesis, or imitation, goes back to the Greeks. Aristotle noted in his Poetics (1448b, 4-10) that the greater human capacity for imitation is what distinguishes humanity from all other animals. By imitation we acquire not only language, and therefore the ability to reason, but our very sense of self in and through our relationship to the rest ofthe world: in short, personhood and culture (see Alison 1990, 18-21.). How? Given the current climate of individualism, it comes as something ofa surprise to hear the claim that it is through the imitation of another's desire. According to Girard, our desires are neither original nor spontaneous to us; they are learned by imitating the desires of others.1 Human beings are intrinsically mimetic, imitating one another's desire. This leadsto rivalry. Mimetic rivalry leads to conflict, which, ifunchecked, degenerates into an all-against-all violence. This, in turn, threatens the complete disintegration ofthe group. So a problem arises: how is order (cosmos) to be re-established out of chaos? Once humans had evolved beyond the submission/domination mechanism (that still works for the other higher primates), our primal ancestors were in real danger of"species 1 A word of clarification before we proceed to explore this claim in the hope of averting a simple misunderstanding: desire is not to be confused with appetite They are related, obviously; but they are not the same. What is the difference? At the risk ofover-simplifying, simply put: appetite is about needs; desire is about wants. Needs are instinctive, automatic... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Nietzsche contra GirardAgonistic Steps for Mimetic StudiesNidesh Lawtoo (bio)It has gradually become clear to me what every great philosophy has hitherto been: a confession on the part of its author and a kind of involuntary and unconscious memoir.—Friedrich Nietzsche, Beyond Good and EvilFriedrich Nietzsche's exemplary position in the history of philosophy owes as much to the untimely content of his thought as to the heterogeneous forms he used (...) to express it. It is thus no accident that both his philosophical logic (logos) and the formal affect (pathos) that animate his writings are now a source of inspiration for mimetic studies as well—a transdisciplinary field that goes beyond antiquarian approaches to mimesis in order to develop a new theory of imitation that accounts for the becoming other of homo mimeticus in the present and future.1If I opt for an agonistic title, then, it is not to set up a violent and rivalrous opposition of false polarities between mimetic theory and mimetic studies—for the debts and genealogical continuities between Girard and Nietzsche [End Page 145] are numerous, profound, and do not conform to the pathological dynamic of mimetic rivalry. Rather, I opt for this Nietzschean title to alert the reader in advance to the following methodological point: What appears, at first sight, as a straightforward antagonistic opposition might reveal, at a closer genealogic look, mirroring continuities and overturnings of perspectives. The goal is to go beyond rivalrous principles constitutive of violent pathologies to propose a new theory on the logic or logos of mimetic pathos. This also means that the "contra" in my title should be read with a genealogical understanding of what agonistic confrontations actually entail: namely, a complex double movement with and against worthy predecessors that, as I have shown elsewhere, are already constitutive of Nietzsche's mimetic "patho(-)logies," and that I now group under the rubric of "mimetic agonism."2 Whether Nietzsche and Girard have the same understanding of agonism, or not quite, is what these further steps for mimetic studies now aim to find out.If the transdisciplinary field of mimetic studies emerges in the twenty-first century, its genealogy looks back to the foundations of philosophy and reaches, via Nietzsche and other modernist writers of mimesis, into the present. As an introductory gesture, let me first step back to the past century to recall why one of mimetic studies' major precursors, such as Nietzsche, continues to be read and reread today from different perspectives. Considered one of the "masters of suspicion" along with Marx, Freud, and, we should add, Darwin, Nietzsche is mostly known for overturning Western metaphysics, proclaiming the death of God, reevaluating the value of morality, undermining faith in rationality, and affirming an immanent world of becoming in constant tension, conflict, and transformation. Given his perspectival, often conflicted, and seemingly contradictory approach, it is not surprising that the name of Nietzsche has been associated with strikingly different and equally conflicting philosophical traditions: from existentialism to hermeneutics, materialism to psychoanalysis, structuralism to poststructuralism, modernism to postmodernism, critical theory to feminism, deconstruction to queer theory, and new materialism to environmental philosophy to posthumanism, among other emerging perspectives. Despite the disagreements he generates, or perhaps because of them, Nietzsche's perspectival thought powerfully informs, and continues to transform, some of the most heterogeneous philosophical traditions of the twentieth and twenty-first centuries.Still, as the epigraph whereby we started suggests, Nietzsche was not only a philosopher; he was also one of the most formidable critics of philosophy—and in a characteristic overturning of perspectives, he often turned this critique into an attempt at self-critique. Nietzsche's philosophical diagnostics, in fact, [End Page 146] tend to be double-faced insofar as he is equally implicated in the phenomena he dissects—and this applies to his definition of philosophy as well. There is, in fact, a formal, confessional element at play in Nietzsche's famous account of philosophy as "confession [Selbstbekenntnis]" (BGE 6;47).3 The phrase performs what it describes, generating mirroring effects that run, like an undercurrent, throughout Nietzsche's entire oeuvre, giving it an experiential, autobiographical, and experimental tone that informs mimetic studies as well... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Hypothesis on the Origin of TradeThe Exchange of Lives for Sacrifice and SexPablo Díaz-Morlán (bio)introductionThe primary objective of this study is to propose a hypothesis regarding the origin of trade that will help to solve the enigma of why human groups, normally each other's enemies, stopped exchanging blows in order to exchange things. The complexity of this crucial step forward in the relationships between hostile primitive groups can (...) be summarized as follows. In order for an exchange to take place, both parties must take part in it voluntarily because they see a mutual benefit in doing so. In turn, both parties should be aware that in order to obtain what interests them, which is closely guarded by the other party, in return, they must hand over what the other party is interested in. The perception of the interest of the other plays a crucial role in trade, both today and in its origins. The next step to be taken after a successful initial exchange was its consolidation, after it had been proved that it mutually benefited groups who had, until then, been enemies. Once established, this pacific exchange would have diversified considerably and its complexity would have increased significantly. An added [End Page 165] advantage, which was unexpected but real, was that its subsequent usefulness in curbing violence contributed to its growing expansion. The emergence of a comparative advantage in the groups that adopted trade would have guaranteed their future progress with respect to those that continued to systematically adopt violent conduct toward their neighbors.1Throughout this study, we will come across the old idea that the market prevents war. Without a doubt, trade and war between individuals and groups are closely connected, but the boundaries between them are fuzzy and their demarcation has proven elusive to researchers. Albert Hirschman studied the intellectual climate in the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries in favor of trade and the express declaration of Montesquieu that "peace is the natural effect of trade."2 Since then, this idea has gained ground among researchers of economics and other fields of knowledge. In L'enfer des choses and subsequent works, Jean-Pierre Dupuy and Paul Dumouchel defend that the economy (the market) is a substitute for the sacred, containing violence through violent means. The market contains violence in the two senses of the term contain: It holds it and curbs it; it is both the poison and the remedy. The consumer society makes all objects available to everyone and in this way deactivates mimetic rivalry, deferring violent conflicts. But it is only a temporary remedy. In the words of Girard, "It is always necessary to find new toys."3Following the path initiated by Dumouchel and Dupuy, with their criticism of the free market economy and their proposal for a new notion of scarcity, in his text The Empire of Value, André Orléan claims that money is at the origin of the market. My analysis alludes to a moment prior to that established by Orléan. He maintains that he does not contemplate the historical origin of money but instead uses the expression "the conceptual origin of money." In fact, when he defends the essential monetary base of the market, he refers to an already developed market system, that is, an economic system for which the operation is structured around the institution of the market.4 Mark R. Anspach also criticized the market system in his book À Charge de Revanche. This author proposes the transcending of the perverse logic of vengeance that defines both war and the market that transforms it into a positive reciprocity based on the gift. This constitutes a type of shift away from looking at the past (settling old accounts) to looking toward the future, embracing gratitude, which gives rise to the initial gesture of giving.5 This study analyzes a time prior to that examined by Orléan and Anspach. It was the moment of hominization, that is, mimicry, the subsequent violence that threatened the survival of human groups and, as we will seek to explain, the market as an institution that has accompanied humankind since its conformation as a species... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The Neurology of Culture, or How We Move From Rage to Ritual in the Process of HominizationGregory J. Lobo (bio)The most (or rather the only) effective form of reconciliation—that would stop this crisis, and save the community from total self-destruction—is the convergence of all collective anger and rage towards a random victim, a scapegoat, designated by mimetism itself, and unanimously adopted as such.—René Girard, Evolution and Conversion, 64.INTRODUCTIONHow do (...) we move from rage to ritual? How do we become human? The work of René Girard would seem to offer an answer to this question. In this brief essay I want to simply add some evolutionary and neuroscientific details to Girard's theory, which flesh out while also corroborating the basic components of it. [End Page 255]To do this I need to draw a distinction between religion and culture. I mention this from the outset because the main source upon which I draw to represent Girard's thinking is the book Evolution and Conversion. Dialogues on the Origins of Culture, with Pierpaolo Antonello and João Cezar de Castro Rocha, published in 2008. I use this particular source because, as Girard's interlocutors say in their foreword to it, this book "is intended as a reassessment of Things Hidden since the Foundation of the World, 30 years on,"1 and it evidences the "ways in which, over 30 years, mimetic theory has matured, and its fruitfulness become more apparent, even since the initial excitement of Girard's groundbreaking works in the 1970s."2 I highlight my need to distinguish between culture and religion due to the fact that in Evolution and Conversion Antonello and Castro Rocha state forthrightly that for Girard (and, one might presume, for Girardians), culture and religion "amount to the same thing."3 But it is not totally clear that this holds. For as Girard, in the same book, says, "religion, as an institution, comes into being through the scapegoat mechanism."4 Thus, the question arises as to what it is that allows humans to have institutions in the first place. Surely the answer is the capacity for culture as such, understood as the very capacity for symbolic thought, for the manipulation of mental images and their combination into new ones. Hopefully, in the discussion that follows, my insistence on the need to analytically distinguish between culture and religion will be born out. For now, I simply ask the reader to play along. If the reader is game, I can restate my purpose: What is the neurology of culture, such that we can become human, or move from blind rage to deliberate ritual?THE MIMETIC MECHANISMGirard, we should recall, insists that we start "from a purely naturalistic standpoint."5 With this injunction in mind, I will give an account of the "mimetic mechanism," an expression that "describes the whole process, beginning with mimetic desire, which then becomes mimetic rivalry, eventually escalating to the stage of a mimetic crisis and finally ending with the scapegoat resolution"6 that strives for naturalistic representation. Therefore, I will avoid terms like "community" or even "group," which already suggest the existence of something like cultural realities. A naturalistic standpoint, which I take to be a scientific standpoint, must strive to circumvent begging the question by using terms like these, for they refer exactly to the phenomena we are trying to explain: a self-conscious sense of belonging and community. [End Page 256]For those familiar enough with its presuppositions about the human nature that underlies, or is the foundation of, human culture, the mimetic mechanism can be presented in a somewhat straightforward fashion. This presentation relies on Chapter 2 of Evolution and Conversion.The desire of Homo sapiens is in essence mimetic. That is, an individual member of the species desires what its proximal conspecifics—its models—desire. That two conspecifics should desire the same thing leads, inevitably, to two intermediate outcomes. First, the desire for what the other desires intensifies, due to the effects of mimesis; second, this drives the two now mutual models almost inevitably into conflict, as they become doubles. This is conflictual mimesis. The conflict can turn violent and... (shrink)

Though the literature on the topic has been slim, several recent commentators have identified a close affinity between the philosophical project of Giorgio Agamben, as articulated in his Homo Sacer series, and René Girard's theory of mimetic rivalry with its resolution through sacrificial scapegoating.1 Both are theories of social unity made possible through highly ritualized forms of exclusion. Girard's work posits desire and its conflictual consequences as the ultimate ground for all social systems, while Agamben views the same (...) systems with an eye toward the maintenance of sovereign power. Agamben begins his study with an obscure figure of Roman law, the "sacred man," who is excluded from the laws of both the... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:A Patchwork of Non-Integrated OthersMichael Elias (bio)It has been a long time since I first presented a paper at a Colloquium on Violence & Religion (COV&R) conference, in 1994 in Wiesbaden, entitled "Neck Riddles in Mimetic Theory." It discusses riddle stories in which a man sentenced to death saves his life by propounding to the judge a riddle that he cannot possibly solve, because it is based on (...) bizarre experiences, unique to the condemned person. This was somewhat similar to what I did in my lecture, because I hid the fact that my research, which I would later base my doctorate on, was inspired by the eccentric experiences from psychoses that overtook me between 1979 and 1983 and landed me in a psychiatric hospital. Moreover, the motif of a condemned person saving his life is related for me to the experiences of my father, who spent weeks on death row at Buchenwald concentration camp during World War II—and miraculously escaped death. As the eldest in the family, I was definitely "the boy who had to make everything right."I am convinced that a lot of research is related to a researcher's own experiences. Our maître à penser, René Girard, tells his interviewer Michel Treguer, in answer to a question about the last chapter of Mensonge romantique, "You're [End Page 121] right, of course, about there being a personal experience behind what I say. I ended up understanding that I was going through an experience of the kind that I was describing."1 In his overview of Girard's work, Wolfgang Palaver wrote, "He began to turn away from his own pride and to see himself as a puppet of his own mimetic desire."2 But Girard adds a caveat in 1994: There is the danger of narcissism.3I also experience that when I do not stick to the theory, but try to clarify parts of my life story from the moment I started reading Girard's Des choses cachées depuis la fondation du monde, which offered me a new opening to my Christian background. It stimulated me to start learning Hebrew to investigate the roots of Christianity.My learning still continues, in a study group: what Jews do in a beth hamidrash. The Torah is too great to be owned by any of us, so the mimetic rivalry that is always there becomes a fruitful mimesis: Lernen leads to freedom. The last ten years we have been studying the book of Exodus, with midrashim from the long rabbinic tradition. It's a book of liberation that finally gave me the courage to write about that profound period in the psychiatric hospital.From the third part of Des choses cachées, I learned a lot about interdividuality, and also from J.-M. Oughourlian's The Mimetic Brain, in which he distinguishes between the rational, emotional, and mimetic brain. And from Henri Grivois, who published on incipient psychosis. Initially I steered toward a kind of psycho-philosophical self-analysis using insights from mimetic theory. However, in the end I decided: What I learned will not be put in a scientific treatise, but a novel. For several reasons:1. I learned from Mensonge romantique that real knowledge can be conveyed very well through a novel.2. Hungarian writer and Nobel Prize winner Imre Kertész, explaining why he was unable to describe his real-life concentration camp experiences, gave me the freedom to paradoxically tell my "real story" in fiction.3. I could by no means always remember exactly what had happened, and therefore had to resort to fiction, even though I had preserved material from those years.4. I wanted to make people in my immediate surroundings unrecognizable by literary means. The American writer David Vann once said (according to a Dutch writer), "You must sacrifice your family on the altar of fiction." I didn't want that, especially with regard to my mother. [End Page 122]5. Finally, I was inspired by a Jewish sage from the eighteenth century in Lithuania (the maggid of Doubno). He explains why the truth of the Torah is not presented as a philosophy or code of law... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Flight of DesireThe Conversion of Sherman AlexieScott Richard Lyons (bio)Sherman Alexie's audacious arrival onto the Native American literary scene in the early 1990s felt like the start of something new—but it was also the end of something old: namely, the Native American Renaissance (NAR).1 Younger by a generation than the graying canonized figures of preceding decades—N. Scott Momaday, James Welch, Leslie Marmon Silko, Gerald Vizenor, among others—Alexie assumed the (...) pose of an enfant terrible and suggested that his elders were trying a bit too hard to produce an ultimately inauthentic sense of traditionalism. "We've been stuck in place since House Made of Dawn," he complained to an interviewer in 1997.2 Rather than presenting his readers with sick and/or depressed Indians caught between two worlds who discover healing in cultural restoration—the dominant plotline of NAR novels—Alexie's innovative characters played basketball and blues guitar, obsessed about their crushes and classes, and worried more about fitting into the modern world than healing it with some spiritual return to ancient Indian wisdom. Stylistically and thematically, Alexie was always closer to the likes of a George Saunders or Junot Diaz than he was to the serious modernists who had [End Page 27] inspired his NAR predecessors, and his political outlook more closely resembled the "identity politics" of younger Indian academics than the "sovereignty" discourses of twentieth-century tribal councils. Alexie wielded humor and pathos to great effect and always seemed to have his finger on the pulse of newer audiences, including those of us who call Indian reservations home. Alexie's influence on everyday Native American culture has been underestimated.Born to Salish parents in 1966 and raised on and off an eastern Washing-ton reservation, Alexie has published (as of this writing) twenty-six books of poetry, fiction, and memoir, much of which has been lauded for its dark humor and tender compassion in the face of serious and challenging topics—sexual abuse, chemical addiction, parental abandonment—as well as for its "reservation realism": the sense, often reiterated by Alexie himself, that his work speaks more authentically to real Indian life than most Native American works. His first published fiction was a collection of short stories, The Lone Ranger and Tonto Fistfight in Heaven (1993), followed two years later by his first novel, Reservation Blues (1995). In 1996 Alexie published his second novel, Indian Killer, which moved in a different, darker direction. Departing reservation settings for the city of Seattle and supplanting his humor with a horror sensibility, Indian Killer is about a serial murderer who scalps his white male victims and the subsequent racial tensions that arise. In keeping with Alexie's identity politics, a significant theme of the novel is "ethnic fraud"—the claiming of false Indian identity by non-Indians—a topic that received serious treatment during the 1990s and that supplies another layer of meaning to the novel's title.3 But Indian Killer is primarily about the murder of white men, and the most that anyone could say about the moral questions it raises is that Alexie seems to have left them for the reader to decide. Arnold Krupat decided to call Indian Killer a "warning to whites."4 A decade later, Alexie published two short books, each having a foothold in the lucrative young adult (YA) genre: The Absolutely True Diary of a Part-Time Indian (2007) and Flight (2007). The former was immensely successful, critically and commercially, while the latter has barely been written about at all and has not sold as well. What explains this difference? Is True Diary simply a better book than Flight?Whenever we identify some literary text as good, great, better—or worse—than some other texts, we are obliged to answer the big, implicit question: What makes literature good? For René Girard, the answer to that question was simple: Great literature always announces the "novelistic [romanesque] truth," not the "romantic [romantique] lie" about the mediation of mimetic desire.5 The truth is that our desires are never just our own. We always imitate the desires of others, which leads to mimetic rivalry with those same models, who... (shrink)

“Why is there so much violence in our midst?” René Girard asks. “No question is more debated today. And none produces more disappointing answers.” In Girard’s mimetic theory it is the imitation of someone else’s desire that gives rise to conflict whenever the desired object cannot be shared. This mimetic rivalry, Girard argues, is responsible for the frequency and escalating intensity of human conflict. For Girard, human conflict comes not from the loss of reciprocity between humans but (...) from the transition, imperceptible at first but then ever more rapid, from good to bad reciprocity. In this landmark text, Girard continues his study of violence in light of geopolitical competition, focusing on the roots and outcomes of violence across societies latent in the process of globalization. The volume concludes in a wide-ranging interview with the Sicilian cultural theorist Maria Stella Barberi, where Girard’s twenty-first century emphases on the continuity of all religions, global conflict, and the necessity of apocalyptic thinking emerge. (shrink)

The history of Spain in the 20th and 21st century provides us with many examples of mimetic rivalry: the permanent conflict between peoples who inhabit a common territory, seeking their identity through the affirmation of differences. In the never-ending reciprocities that occur throughout the decades, with ferocious feuding between the left and right wings, and disputes between nationalities, we appreciate how the Girardian theses shine some light on conflictive and at times bloody relationships that would be difficult to (...) understand without the illuminating mimetic theory and the scapegoat mechanism.Mimetic theory and the scapegoat mechanism, together with some of Girard's most innovative intuitions (passion for... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:"Even now, now, very now"Mimesis's and Imitation's TemporalitiesJoão Cezar de Castro Rocha (bio)Had we but world enough and time.—Andrew Marvell, "To His Coy Mistress"THE EMPIRE OF NOWNESSIn the contemporary world our lives seem to become ever more Girardian, and to such an extent that even everyday language speaks of this circumstance. I think especially of a tool that is omnipresent in our societies: One just has to listen carefully (...) to the concepts employed daily by billions of users of the digital universal, and more particularly pay attention to the naturalization of an extremely aggressive behavior by the users of social networks.Is it not true that we all want our posts and tweets and photos to go viral? Haven't we all have lost some precious time looking at an infinity of memes scrolling down mechanically screen after screen? In political science, there is even a new approach, memetic, specialized in the study of the production [End Page 47] of memes and above all in understanding the overwhelming impact of their reception—notably in the political arena. Among so many possible examples, the Italian movement Cinque Stelle, the election of both Donald Trump in the United States (2016) and Jair Messias Bolsonaro in Brazil (2018), and the outcome of the Brexit plebiscite (2016) are events intrinsically (although not exclusively) related to a sort of mass production of memes and other gadgets typical of social networks.And that is not all: The word contagion is commonly employed by users in almost a technical Girardian sense. The paroxysm of a world for which social relations are dominated by aggravated internal mediation also deepens the mimetic drive underlying the digital universe. What is one to say of a new "profession" that is flourishing nowadays? I am referring to the digital influencer, whose only possible parallel is given by the uncontrollable multiplication of coaches for every single aspect of life. The reader of René Girard's fundamental work cannot but close her eyes and anticipate the next step. Digital influencers and coaches are only successful if they present themselves as an authentic skandalon to billions of users around the globe, for their lifestyle, although seemingly inaccessible or precisely because of it, becomes the explicit object of desire of their followers. Girardian concepts come naturally to mind: Metaphysical desire defines the profile of such followers—they want to be exactly like the coaches and influencers they admire. The double-bind nature of this predicament is a perfect recipe for the escalation of symbolic violence and abusive language that permeates the digital universe. Influencers and coaches are, so to speak, active nonreaders of Gregory Bateson's work, urging their followers to adopt them as undisputable models, but at the same time, because they are the coaches and the influencers, they are making it clear that the followers will not be able to achieve what nonetheless they are led to covet because of the same influencers and coaches. Otherwise, if every follower became a coach, the "profession" would at once reach its apogee and its destruction!(You understand that redundancy imposes itself here because it is a powerful mimetic machine.)In Bateson's words, the double bind is "a situation in which no matter what a person does, he 'can't win.' It is hypothesized that a person caught in the double bind may develop schizophrenic symptoms."1 This paradoxical structure evokes the classic situation of the fable, in which the character who desires everything [End Page 48] gains nothing; finding himself midway between two treasures, he is unable to settle on one for fear of losing the other. This is a conflictive situation provoked by the digital universe on a daily basis and on a planetary scale in an unprecedented manner.The "best" is yet to come: This troubling escalation of mimetic rivalry and therefore mimetic violence, although entangled in embarrassingly trite matters, has a shocking outcome: the obsessive repetition of the mimetic resolution offered by the so-called "virtual lynching," and the omnipresence of the "cancel or call-out culture," an obvious variation of the scapegoat mechanism, widely employed and rendered properly epidemic due to an... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Sacrificial and Nonsacrificial Mass NonviolenceJohn Roedel (bio)Have been awake since 2 a.m. God’s grace alone is sustaining me. I can see there is some grave defect in me somewhere which is the cause of all this. All round me is utter darkness.—M. K. Gandhi, diary entry, dated January 2, 1947.1During the last few years of Gandhi’s life, massive rioting verging on civil war tore India apart, despite Gandhi’s best (...) efforts to calm the situation and despite repeated, widespread, politically successful mass nonviolent actions by large segments of the Indian populace in the previous decades. There have been many analyses of the violent births of India and Pakistan, but none that I know of have taken seriously Gandhi’s intuitions of his own responsibility. At most, intuitions such as these have been taken as further evidence of the Mahatma’s profound humility.I will not suggest that Gandhi bore some moral responsibility for this violence, but I will suggest that his (and others’) ignorance of what I will term the sacrificial aspects of mass nonviolence did have a role to play. I will model my distinction between sacrificial and nonsacrificial nonviolence on Girard’s [End Page 221] distinction between sacrificial and nonsacrificial Christianity as presented in Things Hidden since the Foundation of the World, and will attempt to use this distinction to suggest how violence might arise out of the practice of mass nonviolence, using the example of the nonviolent movement for Indian independence as an example. I hope that my speculations may also shed light on other puzzling aspects of mass nonviolence, such as the reason why, despite the many political successes of nonviolence, nonviolent movements have never become more widely established, and have for the most part been limited to ad hoc movements.2In Girard’s view, sacrificial practices such as I am proposing as part of mass nonviolence are ubiquitous, destructive, and mostly invisible. Girard writes, “every negation of the other leads... towards expulsion and murder. The basis for all of this lies in the fundamental human situation of a mimetic rivalry that leads to a destructive escalation.”3 That is, every negation of the other contributes to widening cycles of escalation that would lead to the extinction of humanity, were it not for sacrifice, which allows the rivalries to be discharged without consequences onto an individual outside the community—a scapegoat.There is not much agreement about how nonviolence functions or even about what the word “nonviolence” refers to. It will be defined here as a refusal to submit to or inflict violence, where “violence” includes not just physical violence but also verbal and structural violence, such as imperialism and poverty. Within such a definition, fleeing physically or otherwise from violence is a form of submission to the violence, and allows violence the last word, so to speak. Nonviolence is perhaps clearest in a face-to-face encounter with physical violence, as in the many civil disobedience actions of Gandhi’s career. But like violence, nonviolence also occurs in common, even subtle, situations, as in a conversation between friends.Beginning with Gandhi, a distinction has often been made between “strategic” and “principled” nonviolence. Strategic nonviolence is the contingent embrace of nonviolence as a tactic. Principled nonviolence is the unconditional embrace of nonviolence, on the basis of a moral or religious commitment. Gandhi spoke of principled nonviolence as a refusal to submit to or inflict violence out of unselfish love for the opponent. He spoke of strategic nonviolence as a means for achieving one’s goals; in his opinion, this was not really nonviolence at all, but a simulacrum of it. An individual may even sometimes be unable to distinguish the extent to which his own nonviolence is strategic or principled.To distinguish between strategic and principled nonviolence, according to Gandhi, it is necessary to explore the motivations and character formation of the nonviolent practitioner in question. For Gandhi, principled nonviolence [End Page 222] arises out of one’s “relationship to God” and a “deep sense of the intercon-nectedness of all beings.” Gandhi believed that in defense of truth, or in defense of the honor of oneself... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:MASCULINITY AS VIRILITY IN TAHAR BEN JELLOUN'S WORK Lahoucine Ouzgane University ofAlberta To be a woman is a natural infirmity and every woman gets used to it. To be a man is an illusion, an act of violence that requires no justification. (Ben Jelloun, The Sand Child, 70) Inthe last ten to fifteen years, scholarly attention to gender issues in.the Middle East and North Africa has been focused almost (...) exclusively, sometimes obsessively,1 on a quest to understand femininity: what it is and how it is made and regulated—with Muslim women's oppression, the everlasting question of the veil, and the practice of female genital mutilation receiving most of the scrutiny.2 But while this attention—by female and male scholars—to the Muslim woman is indeed a salutary one,3 masculinity in Islamic cultures has so far remained an 1 An international conference on Contemporary Issues in Islamic Studies (to be held in Virginia in November 1996) is soliciting papers in these categories: 1) Islamic Law: Theory and Practice; 2) Fundamentalism; 3) Women in Islam. 2As a parody ofthis preoccupation, Fedwa Malti-Douglas writes: "The Arab woman is a most fascinating creature. Is she veiled? Is she not veiled? Is she oppressed? Is she not oppressed? Were her rights greater before Islam? Are her rights greater after Islam? Does she have a voice? Does she not have a voice?" (3) 3 Some ofthe most significant literature on this subject includes LeilaAhmed's Women and Gender in Islam (1992), a study of the development of Islamic discourses on women and gender from the ancientworld to the present, Mamia Lazreg's The Eloquence ofSilence (1994), a detailed analysis ofthe gender relations in Algeria from the precolonial era to the present; The Veil and the Male Elite (more commonly known in French as Le Harempolitique, 1987) by 2 Lahoucine Ouzgane unrecognized and an unacknowledged category that secures its power by refusing to identify itself. There are as yet no studies that make Muslim men visible as gendered subjects and that show that masculinity (like femininity) has a history and clear defining characteristics that are incomprehensible apart from the totality of gender relations in Islamic cultures. In this essay, I wish to consider masculinity as it is depicted in some ofTahar Ben Jelloun's major fiction. With more than twenty novels, two plays, and three poetry collections produced in the last thirty years, Ben Jelloun is undoubtedly the most prolific contemporary francophone North African writer. Though he had earned several important literary awards before, his rise to literary and public prominence began when he became the first African Arab writer to be awarded Le Prix Goncourt, France's most prestigious literary prize, for his novel La nuit sacrée published in 1987. Ever since, some of his works have been translated into fifteen languages (Daoud 62) and The SacredNight has recently been made into a film. Some critics have even begun to refer to Ben Jelloun as a future Nobel Prize candidate (Ndiaye 48). I will argue that in a world where the social has taken precedence over the religious, in a world where transcendence has given way to what René Girard describes as "mimetic rivalry,"4 Ben Jelloun's characters are unable to know love as an "experience of transcendence" (Gans). As a consequence they inevitably reduce masculinity to virility, a fragile attribute sustained only through repeated acts of violence. It is indeed possible to read masculinity in such a setting as a set of distinctive practices which emerge from men's positioning within a variety of social structures. In short, masculinity in Ben Jelloun's fiction is perhaps best Fatima Mernissi, an indictment of the way in which numerous Hadiths (or sayings by the prophet) have been manipulated by a male elite to maintain male privileges; Fatna Sabbah's Woman in theMuslim Unconscious(1984), a critique ofthe seemingly contradictory messages which the Islamic legal and erotic discourses imprint on the female body; and Fedwa Malti-Douglas' Woman's Body, Woman's Word (1991), a mapping out of the relationship of woman's voice in Arabo-Islamic discourse to sexuality and the body. 4Central to Girard's thought is... (shrink)

This paper proposes a revision of Girard’s interpretation of Satan, along traditional theological lines. Appreciating the essential correctness of the Girardian characterization of mimēsis, it is an argument, contra Girard, that (1) Satan cannot be reduced to a mimetic process but is a hypostatic spiritual reality and, following from this, that (2) the origins of mimetic rivalry go back before the emergence of humankind and provide a model for human rivalry. Employing concepts drawn from Husserlian phenomenological (...) psychology, Thomist theology, and psychoanalysis, it hypothesizes Satan’s psychological state, prior to his fall, as metastable anxiety and trauma and his state, afterwards, as a narcissistic, malicious, self-induced pathology in order to explain Satan’s impossible rivalry with God, a rivalry that precedes hominization and has always endangered human existence. (shrink)

If architectural judgment were a city, a city of ideas and forms, then it is a very imperfect city. When architects judge the success or failure of a building, the range of ways and criteria which can be used for this evaluation causes many contentious and discordant arguments. Proposing that the increase in number and intensity of such arguments threatens to destabilize the very grounds upon which judgment is supposed to rest, this book examines architectural judgment in its historical, cultural, (...) political, and psychological dimensions and their convergence on that most expressive part of architecture, namely: architectural character. It stresses the value of reasoned judgment in justifying architectural form -a judgment based on three sets of criteria: those criteria that are external to architecture, those that are internal to architecture, and those that pertain to the psychology of the architect as image-maker. External criteria include, philosophies of history or theories of modernity; internal criteria include architectural character and architectural composition; while the psychological criteria pertain to 'mimetic rivalry', or rivaling desires for the same architectural forms. Yet, although architectural conflicts can adversely influence judgment, they can at the same time, contribute to the advancement of architectural culture. (shrink)

ABSTRACT Starting from a philosophical, literary and historical frame of reference (Heraclitus, Hegel, Tolstoy, and Clausewitz), the paper aims to find a ‘deconstructive’ and anthropo-ethical way out of the binary opposition of war and peace (Levinas and Girard). ‘Apocalyptic reasoning’, inspired by a biblical view of man, gives insight into (in/un)human violence, and opens up a new perspective on necessary and possible conversion.

In this lively series of conversations with writer Michel Treguer, René Girard revisits the major concepts of mimetic theory and explores science, democracy, and the nature of God and freedom. Girard affirms that “our unprecedented present is incomprehensible without Christianity.” Globalization has unified the world, yet civil war and terrorism persist despite free trade and economic growth. Because of mimetic desire and the rivalry it generates, asserts Girard, “whether we’re talking about marriage, friendship, professional relationships, issues with (...) neighbors or matters of national unity, human relations are always under threat.” Literary masters including Marivaux, Dostoevsky, and Joyce understood this, as did archaic religion, which warded off violence with blood sacrifice. Christianity brought a new understanding of sacrifice, giving rise not only to modern rationality and science but also to a fragile system that is, in Girard’s words, “always teetering between a new golden age and a destructive apocalypse.” Treguer, a skeptic of mimetic theory, wonders: “Is what he’s telling me true...or is it just a nice story, a way of looking at things?” In response, Girard makes a compelling case for his theory. (shrink)

This article aims to compare the heuristic potentials of two different theories of desire, with reference to Shakespeare’s Julius Caesar. The first theory is that of mimetic desire, proposed by René Girard; the second theory is the one elaborated by Freud and Lacan, a theory of which we emphasize the conception of identity in terms of identification and the distinction between the Imaginary and Symbolic registers. The crisis of the Degree together with the unleashing of rivalry represent a (...) war between “doubles”, whose only solution would be the killing of Caesar, accomplished with purity of hearts ; the failure of the sacrificial rite would be due to the prevalence of envious violence. In line with a Lacanian perspective, and by way of a less scholastic conception of the Symbolic – understood here in term of dimension of intellectual complexity, and therefore of political art – this article intends to suggest a different interpretation: the main nucleus of the work falls on the duel between Brutus and Anthony, where the triumph of Anthony expresses the primacy of intelligence. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:SCANDAL AND IMITATION IN MATTHEW, KIERKEGAARD, AND GIRARD David McCracken University ofWashington Charlie Chaplin once entered a Charlie Chaplin look-alike contest, but his resemblance was insufficient for the first- or secondplace prize. He finished third, and thus created a small scandal: the judges—experts on Charlie Chaplin—proved to be so inept that they could not recognize the genuine article1. The simple, mimetic entertainment of a look-alike contest can become (...) more interesting when marked by a spirit of ironic play, which we may plausibly attribute to Charlie Chaplin, and it certainly becomes more interesting when marked by the scandal of inept authorities. Scandals have a way of attracting attention: we take notice, and often pleasure, when experts are shown to be fools. If, on the other hand, we are the experts, then we are likely to take offense and become embarrassed or uncomfortable, defensive or aggressive, humiliated or angry. Either way, we may be scandalized—at the actions of others or at the treatment of ourselves. The Chaplin story suggests three observations about scandal and imitation, which must be understood together because they are necessarily related, one requiring the other. First, models (in this case, Chaplin as the object ofimitation) may be transformed into idols, something fantastic or untrue that we are led to admire, desire, or worship. The movie idol Chaplin was sufficiently far removed from the actual human, Charlie Chaplin, that Charlie Chaplin finished the contest in third place. In the 1 The story, perhaps apocryphal, has been around for some years and reappeared recently in Barash (87), but it is not recorded in Chaplin's autobiography. David McCracken147 Hebrew Bible, idolatry is more extreme: the golden calf is an attractive idol because it can be seen, a fantastic improvement (it would seem) over an invisible God whose mediator has decamped. Instead of worshipping God, the Israelites worship their own desires, which are literally "dungballs " in Ezekiel's graphic vocabulary. Whether the movement is from an invisible God named YHWH toward a golden calf or dung-ball, or from a movie star, who is usually seen as a large image on a silver screen, toward the movie-goer's fond, mental reconstruction ofhim, the process of idolatry leads humans to mistake the false for the real. Second, imitation has different forms: in a look-alike contest, imitation will depend to some extent on the happenstance of physical similarity—the size and face should resemble Chaplin's—but it will also depend on clothing and movement. The entrant Chaplin must have had a significant advantage in size and face, but this advantage was obviously not decisive. Since he failed to win, we begin to wonder: Did he wear the right clothes and hat? Did he, consummate actor that he was, move like Charlie Chaplin or rather more like Buster Keaton? Did he, for the sake of his little scandal, fail to appropriate himself, so to speak; did he misrepresent himself in order not to win? Looking alike is one thing, but appropriating and representing are quite another. Finally, imitation often involves rivalry, which leads to scandal: the Chaplin look-alike contest is a competition, a form ofrivalry that involves winners and losers—that is the point of the contest. By entering the contest, Chaplin made himself an unfair obstacle to the other contestants. But ifhe tried to lose, by not acting like Chaplin, he became an obstacle to thejudges, misleading them into the ludicrous conclusion that someone other-than-Chaplin looked more like Chaplin than Chaplin. The potential scandal is inextricably related to judgment and rivalry, however lighthearted it may be in this case. Like our ordinary contests, New Testament imitation raises the specter of competition: the Pharisee gives thanks that he is not like the poor man (he wins the competition for righteousness hands down, he thinks, and he is fundamentally persuaded that there is a competition); the disciples want to know who among them—the competitors—gets to sit on the right hand; and Peter maintains that, while other disciples may be scandalized, he will not be (he wins, they lose). All ofthese miss the point decisively: New Testament imitation requires the renunciation ofrivalry. The... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:VIOLENCE, ANARCHY, AND SCRIPTURE: JACQUES ELLUL AND RENÉ GIRARD Matthew Patullo Princeton Theological Seminary This essay will examine the personal and social consequences ofsin, Biblically defined, and will contend that Christian faith necessitates a rejection of the secular political order. Exploring and contrasting the thought of René Girard and Jacques Ellul, we will demonstrate that Girard's mimetic theory supplies crucial theoretical underpinnings for Ellul's theology. Ellul, in turn, (...) sequencing the Biblical narrative somewhat differently, provides Girard the more biblically consistent content of the life of faith. The ethical content ofthe life of faith is a continuation ofthe salvation narrative inaugurated in Genesis 1-2, incarnated and perpetuated in Israel and later, the Church, the universalized community of the Abrahamic blessing. The historical content of this faith demonstrates the incompatibility of political power with freedom in Christ. The Church's ill-fated attempts to maintain an authentic practice of faith while legitimizing the secular order are exposed by the Biblical critique of power. While the growth of the global state has made a total withdrawal from the political order inconceivable, it is precisely its utter domination today that makes critical continued defiance by the Body of Christ. Original Sin Girard observes that when the snake first appears in the Genesis account of the Fall, it is already in conflict with God, opposing him as a jealous rival. Eve is enticed by it to covet divinity, to covet what belongs to God—the knowledge of good and evil—and to herself become God's rival (Girard 1 965, 1 82). Her imitation ofthe serpent's covetousness forms "an alliance of two against one" (Girard 2000, 171-185), and God is 26Matthew Patullo expelled from the relationship. The contagion of metaphysical desire, or mimesis, soon claims Adam and what began as a relationship ofobedience without conflict between God and human beings is forever changed. An acquisitive mimesis turns antagonistic and rivalrous (Girard 1978a, 95). When called to account for her disobedience, Eve blames the snake. Adam in turn blames Eve, implying that God is himselfat least partially culpable: "The woman whom You gave to be with me, she gave me ofthe tree, and I ate" (Gen 3:12, emphasis mine). In the Biblical account of human origins then, rivalry with God produces rivalry between people. Girard argues that although conflict must inevitably lead to violence, here "God takes the violence upon himselfand founds humanity by driving Adam and Eve far away from him" (Girard 1978a, 142). God's banishment of the first humans only mirrors the expulsion implied by human collusion with the snake. "Now we know that covetousness is the crux ofthe whole affair," Ellul writes, "since sin always depends on it. 'You shall not covet' (Ex 20: 1 7) is the last of the commandments because it summarizes everything—all the other sins" (Ellul 1985, 101; see also Girard 1999, 7-12). Prior to the Fall, Adam and Eve are not required to choose between good and evil. "AU that counted was the relation to God and its expression in action" (Ellul 1976, 51). Here Ellul understands freedom as obedience to God's commandments within the context ofa relationship with God. Independence from God is mere slavery: "Adam seeks to liberate himself from the limits which God has set for him and in so doing he enters into rivalry with other forces and becomes subject to sin" (Ellul 1976, 49). The knowledge that Adam and Eve covet and usurp from God is "the power to decide on one's own what is gooáanawhat is evil" (Ellul 1985,96?, emphasis Ellul's). Consequently, human morality is ofthe order ofthe Fall, and Girard concurs: the ethical always derives from victimary unanimity (Girard 1978a, 236), in this case the rejection of God. For Ellul "covetousness is equivalent to the spirit of power or domination" (Ellul 1985, 101)' and "no society is possible among people 1 "Sin is a break with God and all that this entails. When I say that people are not good, I am not adopting a Christian or a moral standpoint. I am saying that theirtwo great characteristics, no matterwhattheir society or education, are covetousness and the desire... (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Ibsen's Drama of Self-Sacrifice William A. Johnsen Michigan State University Henrik Ibsen, like Flaubert, is a fundamental precursor of all subsequent modern literature. His development, which takes place over a lifetime of playwriting, is nevertheless only obscurely recognized in theories ofthe modern. Critics quarrel about his antecedents: Scribe, Feydeau, as well as Norwegian and Scandinavian dramatists and poets. Yet nothing in any of his predecessors could prepare one for (...) the great prose plays of the last twenty-five years of his career. How did he modernize himself? Ibsen said ofhis transition to prose, that he could no longer allow his characters to speak in verse, the language of the gods.1 It is tempting to begin reading Girard in here, because Ibsen offers us a fascinating variation on the historical moment ofcrisis represented by Flaubert, the moment of modernization itself, where the disintegration ofan accepted political and cultural aristocracy forced everyone to compete for prestige and for unique being in a common marketplace. In the case ofNorway during Ibsen's time, it is the crisis caused by the delegitimation ofDano-Norwegian as the uncontested literary language, in favor of competing versions of an emerging national language for a 1 Ibsen's famous comment is in a letter to Edmund Gosse, 15 January, 1874: "Speaking generally, the dialogue must conform to the degree of idealization which pervades the work as a whole. My new drama is no tragedy in the ancient sense. What I sought to depict were human beings, and therefore I would not let them talk the 'language of the Gods'" (Sprinchorn 145). 142William A. Johnsen uniquely national literature that provokes a rivalry for atavistic or nativist preeminence: Who is the most Norwegian ofall? Ibsen and Henry James (as well as Borges) do not choose chauvinist atavism, yet they also avoid becoming mere disciples of the dominant philosophical traditions which have marginalized them. They are more outspoken discussants of the significant historical and cultural developments analyzed in Girard's Deceit, Desire, and the Novel because they are from "new" countries, outsiders to European culture. It is here we must avoid the occupational hazard ofcritical theory: we must not permit a resemblance between a literary and a theoretical text to degenerate into a transcoding of the former into the latter, without ever considering that their resemblance means that each proposes some contribution to a converging theory ofhuman behavior. Critics who merely convert literature into the theories they already know contribute little to literary knowledge, and nothing to theory. Girard has insisted on the quasitheoretical potential of literary texts from the beginning. Only by staying as close to Ibsen as possible, can we ever hope to add to the considerable work that Girard's hypothesis has already achieved. If there is a general principal at stake in not prematurely transcoding the language of Ibsen's plays into theoretical language (not being prematurely theoretical for the sake of a more inclusive theory), there is also the specific risk of burying the peculiar diversity of his dramatic accomplishment. Ibsen is above all the playwright of complex characterization —no one before him was as subtle in motivating the ordinary characters ofeveryday life. Yet during his time, his plays were awaited for the intense discussions of ideas that they were certain to provoke. How is it that Ibsen is not considered the most theoretical and didactic of writers? Partly, the sheer number of controversial ideas and positions dramatized in play after play kept him from being seen (for very long) as the propagator ofany one ofthem. Michael Meyer reproduces in his biography ofIbsen a contemporary Norwegian political cartoon, which depicts Ibsen flailing first right, then left, then all (Meyer 447). More importantly, Ibsen, beginning with Samfundets Stotter (1877) [Pillars ofSociety], created a drama of ensemble theorizing conducted by characters themselves. Ibsen's work, beyond the creation ofcharacter, was to imagine the conditions and events that might make it possible for ordinary individuals to contribute discoveries about human behavior which, collectively, allow amplification and consolidation as a hypothesis. Ibsen 's Drama ofSelf-Sacrifice143 The mimetic hypothesis first found itself explaining the spectacular results of negative reciprocity in modern resentment, the unperceived commonality ofan isolation... (shrink)

In this lively series of conversations with writer Michel Treguer, René Girard revisits the major concepts of mimetic theory and explores science, democracy, and the nature of God and freedom. Girard affirms that “our unprecedented present is incomprehensible without Christianity.” Globalization has unified the world, yet civil war and terrorism persist despite free trade and economic growth. Because of mimetic desire and the rivalry it generates, asserts Girard, “whether we’re talking about marriage, friendship, professional relationships, issues with (...) neighbors or matters of national unity, human relations are always under threat.” Literary masters including Marivaux, Dostoevsky, and Joyce understood this, as did archaic religion, which warded off violence with blood sacrifice. Christianity brought a new understanding of sacrifice, giving rise not only to modern rationality and science but also to a fragile system that is, in Girard’s words, “always teetering between a new golden age and a destructive apocalypse.” Treguer, a skeptic of mimetic theory, wonders: “Is what he’s telling me true...or is it just a nice story, a way of looking at things?” In response, Girard makes a compelling case for his theory. (shrink)

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:The King and the Crowd: Divine Right and Popular Sovereignty in the French Revolution Robert G. Hamerton-Kelly Stanford University We French cannot really think about politics or philosophy or literature without remembering that all this— politics, philosophy, literature—began, in the modem world, under the sign of a crime. A crime was committed in France in 1793. They killed a good and entirely likable king who was the incarnation of (...) legitimacy. We cannot not remember that this crime was horrible... When we speak about writing, the accent is on what is necessarily criminal in writing. (Jean-François Lyotard, "Discussion Lyotard-Rorty" 583; quoted in Dunn 165) The condemnation ofthe king is at the crux ofour contemporary history. It symbolizes the secularization of our history and the disincarnation of the Christian God. (Albert Camus, The Rebel 120; quoted in Dunn 140) Susan Dunn makes a well-documented case that the death of Louis XVI was unconsciously understood, especially by the Jacobins, as a human sacrifice that was necessary for the founding of the republic. "Louis must die because the patrie must live," said Robespierre at the king's trial, and the representative Carra considered Louis "the source of corruption and servitude... the fatal talisman ofall our ills" whose death would cause the people to be "regenerated in morality and virtue" (Dunn 15-37). The king was a monster and the source ofall the ills, and his death 68Robert G. Hamerton-Kelly had the power to alleviate those ills and regenerate the nation. This image of the king as sacrificial victim persisted throughout the first half of the nineteenth century in French literature and politics, sometimes assimilating itself to the image of Jesus Christ who died for the sins of the world. Legitimist writers like Joseph de Maistre saw his death precisely in this light as a great Christian sacrifice that would do France and the world good (Dunn 28-37). The king as a sacred monster whose life causes all ill and whose death brings healing is the classic figure of the scapegoat or sacrificial victim identified by René Girard. Susan Dunn recognizes this but because she does not know Girard's mimetic theory she is not able to explain the significance of the scapegoat king. Her work is, indeed, as Conor Cruise O'Brien says in the foreword, a work ofdemonstration rather than argument, of evidence rather than interpretation. I offer a mimetic interpretation ofthe Jacobin claim that the death ofthe king was the human sacrifice that founded the republic, and an argument that a universally operative generative mechanism forged the historical events of the revolution.1 There is no essential difference between the sovereignty ofthe king and the sovereignty of the people. In both cases sovereignty arises from a metaphorical contract that threatens death to anyone who violates it. The royal metaphors are organic while the revolutionary metaphors are legal and rational, but they all express the sacrificial structure ofpolitical power. Revolutionary democracy imports the fiction ofrationality to obscure its sacrificial structure. The desire ofthe general will for contractual equality is a transformation of mimetic desire in search of a victim around which the bad violence ofmimetic rivalry can coalesce into the good violence of sacred order. Sovereignty, therefore, is structurally single and simple; it is violence transformed through the sacred into the powers oforder. Max Weber understood this in general ifnot in its particulars when he defined sovereignty as the monopoly of the means of violence within a single territory.2 1 Mimetic theory was discovered by René Girard. I have given an account of my understanding of it in 7Ae Gospel and the Sacred 129-52. The idea of a mechanism universally operative in human history isjustified in the emerging discipline ofevolutionary psychology. Such mechanisms are the result ofthe interaction ofgenetic and environmental factors in the process of evolution (see Robert Wright). 2 The precise quotation from Weber is as follows: "The state is a human community that (successfully) claims the monopoly of the legitimate use of physical force within a The King and the Crowd69 The transition from royal to popular sovereignty is a transformation of the basic pattern of victim and group. The... (shrink)