"Spectral
Nationality" engages with the juxtaposition of death in its title, but
revels in the vitality of ideas, particularly those concerning life. Pheng
Cheah skillfully traces a constellation of concepts—such as freedom, culture,
organism, Bildung, artifice, nature, life, and death—from their distinct
articulation in Kant's critical philosophy to their transposition into
postcolonial theory. This conceptual evolution is presented in two acts: the
first encompasses four chapters on the evolution of the "organismic
metaphor" in eighteenth and nineteenth-century German idealism, while the
second delves into four chapters on its progression in twentieth-century
postcolonial literature. Each chapter is rich with nuanced erudition, all in
service of the book's thesis: contemporary theories of freedom, including
popular postcolonial nationalisms, are rooted in a metaphor of the organic
body. Yet, this metaphor, crucial as it is to modern theories of freedom, is
inherently unstable and prone to unraveling on its own. The realization of
freedom, conceived as the philosophical and political project of modernity,
remains incomplete. The nation, envisaged as a body embodying the promise of
freedom, remains inherently spectral—neither entirely alive nor entirely deceased.
The introduction and first
chapter aim to disentangle nationalism from its usual associations with
intolerance, fanaticism, irrationalism, violence, genocide, romantic
mystification, totalitarianism, subordination, atavistic hallucination, and
bourgeois ideology. Additionally, they seek to preempt appeals to faith,
imagination, and passionate sentiment on its behalf. Cheah acknowledges the
immense human calamities and political atrocities intertwined with nationalism
over the past two centuries, yet contends that contemporary political thought
cannot easily discard it or replace it with utopian, liberal, or socialist
cosmopolitanisms. This is because nationalism is deeply interwoven with the
foundations of modern philosophical thought. Instead of getting ensnared in
specific criticisms against nationalism, the argument strives to uncover its
"philosophical basis" in the "organismic metaphor," which
has been profoundly caricatured and misunderstood. It is the metaphor's
portrayal of the polity as a political body that raises concerns, as it seems
to condone the violent subjugation of individuals to the unbridled will of the
collective, potentially leading to the identification and removal of perceived
diseased elements for the greater good, or even paving the way for the
political horrors characteristic of the modern era. Cheah concedes that these
are valid apprehensions but contends that they are no more applicable to the
"organismic metaphor" than to a host of other conceptions. For
instance, Cheah contrasts it with the "mechanistic model"
underpinning Hobbes's Leviathan, which, he argues, allows for a more readily
hierarchical and despotic utilization than the organismic metaphor.
With the organismic metaphor
identified as the philosophical underpinning of nationalism, the next question
is, what does this metaphor encompass? The second chapter delineates the modern
origins of conceptualizing the polity as an organic body in Kant's critical
philosophy. The argument unfolds as follows: Kant's distinction between the
sensible and intelligible worlds, crucial for understanding human freedom,
gives rise to a new problem of accounting for the actuality of human freedom.
The sensible world, according to Kant, is a realm of natural phenomena governed
by an unbroken chain of mechanical causality, while the intelligible world is
beyond this realm and bound only by reason and the moral law. Human freedom,
Kant argues in the first and second Critiques, hinges on one's capacity to
transcend the natural causal order and act in accordance with the moral law.
However, the stark separation between the sensible and intelligible realms,
which enables the possibility of human self-causality, also makes it
challenging to explain its actualization. If the intelligible world is
disconnected from the sensible, how does the freedom promised by the former
manifest in the latter? How can self-causality be conceived within a sensible
world governed solely by the mechanical law of causality? It is at this
juncture that Cheah's argument moves from familiar to thought-provoking
territory by demonstrating how Kant's political and historical writings,
detailing his solution to this problem, are steeped in the concept of the
organism articulated in his "Critique of Teleological Judgment." This
revelation establishes an unexpected connection with his critical writings.
Cheah acknowledges that he is not the first to make this discovery, but he
skillfully outlines the fusion of living organism and political body with great
insight.
In Cheah's historical
reconstruction, the emergence of modern philosophemes surrounding culture and
organism, concurrent with Kant's project, proved instrumental in addressing the
challenge of actualizing freedom. Culture encompassed legal, political
institutions, arts, and sciences, acting as a "prosthetic" medium
through which humanity cultivated a second nature, realizing its inherent
capacity for reason. This developmental process, facilitated by culture's
rational medium, offered a solution to the embodiment of freedom.
Simultaneously, organisms were conceived as self-organizing entities capable of
self-construction, regulation, maintenance, repair, and genesis, embodying a
form of auto-causality akin to freedom. The capacity of living beings to shape
their own form presented another model for realizing freedom. Kant melded these
available solutions in a distinctive constellation, intertwining concepts of
freedom, culture, and organism. The state, through its relationship with
culture, underwent an organic transformation, evolving from an artificial
imposition on the populace to a self-organizing entity imbued with organismic
causality, suitable for realizing human freedom as the historical embodiment of
the moral law.
However, Cheah contends that
this solution is inherently unstable. Kant's project ultimately unravels, as
the formulation of organic life is disrupted by a heteronomy essential to the
teleological time required for the incarnation of moral freedom. Both the
concepts of culture and organic life struggle to consistently explain the
actualization of freedom as auto-causality in the sensible world. Culture
retains an element of heteronomy due to its reliance on a prior favor, a
cunning ruse of nature from which it cannot fully extricate itself. Similarly,
organic life bears the indelible mark of heteronomy, depending on the gift of
teleological time. Kant can only temporarily obscure the series of aporias
embedded in the concepts of organic life and culture through a certain sleight
of hand. Nature's favors serve as an aporetic infection, disrupting even as
they inaugurate the teleological time underpinning the actualization of human
freedom. While human freedom aims for autonomy, individuals remain inherently
open to the heteronomy of nature. This heteronomy becomes both the condition
enabling the realization of moral freedom and its condition of impossibility.
Consequently, Kant can only mask or "bandage" the constitutive
openness to the other that undermines the human pursuit of autonomy. Moral
reason, as an incarnational activity, is thus inherently subject to a strict
law of contamination, rendering the project of realizing freedom inherently
incomplete.
Chapters 3 and 4 elucidate how
this fundamental Kantian problematics evolve in the works of Fichte, Hegel,
Marx, Lenin, Cabral, and Fanon. Each author endeavors to assert humanity's
capacity to transform themselves and the external world in line with their
higher rational natures, only to find that each mode of embodying freedom is
irreversibly "contaminated by otherness." Cheah's exegetical work in
support of this assertion demonstrates remarkable clarity and consistency. The
argument's progression from Kant to Cabral and Fanon, while predictable,
further reinforces Cheah's thesis. This predictability, in fact, strengthens
Cheah's argument.
Chapters 5 to 8 in the latter
half of the text delve into the transference of the organismic metaphor from
German philosophy to postcolonial nationalism theories, a majority of which,
according to Cheah, embrace this metaphor. These theories envision the nation
not as a return to traditional communities based on blood ties, but as a novel
political community arising from modern knowledge, technology, and
organization. The postcolonial nation's vitality hinges on a traditional
people's resilience in the face of European modernity's technological impact.
However, owing to their inheritance of the organismic metaphor, these theories
insist on a strict divide between organic spontaneity embodied by the nation
and technical manipulation embodied by the neocolonial state or global capital.
Yet, as Cheah elucidated in the first half of the book, this metaphor falls
short in reckoning with life's inherent susceptibility to such technical
manipulation. Thus, it fails to grasp the essential indebtedness of the
postcolonial nation to its technological circumstances and the threat these
conditions pose to its ongoing existence.
Cheah argues that postcolonial
theory overlooks the internal obstacles intrinsic to the process of realizing
freedom, instead viewing them as external to the collective body. In essence,
it's not only that the postcolonial nation must withstand the neocolonial state
and global capital's technical manipulation, but it must also endure the very
technologies that birthed it, such as modern knowledge, print technology, and
literary culture. The remainder of the text centers on analyses of Pramoedya
Ananta Toer’s Buru Quartet and Ngũgĩ wa Thiong’o’s Matigari to support this
thesis. Faced with oppressive neocolonial states post-decolonization, Pramoedya
and Ngũgĩ aim to rekindle their people's national spirit through fictional
recreations of the decolonizing moment. Their novels not only reflect the
nation's development but are intended to actively contribute to it. These
activist postcolonial nationalist novels serve as a means to cultivate a
reading public that can rejuvenate the nation-people, the medium through which
it can regenerate itself by self-reflection and self-understanding. The
question that arises in these contexts is whether the novel effectively
embodies and enacts what it represents, paving the way for the popular
reclaiming of the neocolonial state. In both cases, however, the nation these
authors conjure remains spectral, banned domestically and circulated abroad in
translation. Their works may not fully incarnate the nation, but they persist
in haunting the state, affirming that the most fitting figure for freedom today
is that of the ghost.
In the epilogue, Cheah further
expounds on the concept of spectral nationalism, advocating it as a replacement
for the organic variant. Both the state and the nation must be perceived as
specters, mutually influencing and opposing one another. This spectrality
emphasizes a cautious stance towards political power, recognizing its dual
nature as necessary for preserving human life and potentially perilous in its
efficiency at ending it. While Cheah provides a meticulously established
philosophical foundation, his assertion that organicism underpins contemporary
research in social, political, and historical studies requires broader
validation beyond the Kantian tradition and a limited circle of postcolonial
nationalist discourses. The text's reluctance to consider alternatives, like
Deleuze's non-organic conception of life, leaves room for potential
perspectives that could challenge or expand the discourse. Despite these
considerations, Spectral Nationality is a valuable contribution, offering a
clear and insightful examination of the texts and traditions it scrutinizes.
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