The word arche* is dictionary defined as principle:
* something that was in the beginning : a first principle:
a. in early Greek philosophy : a substance or primal element
b. in Aristotle : an actuating principle (as a cause)
(Merriam-Webster)
If, as one philosopher held, we live at "the end of the epoch dominated by an arche, by the principle, so that we now live in an anarchic age." (Vattimo; See below).
Has expediency**, (in its contemporary usage), not principle, become our current mode of dwelling in the world?
Principles such as fairness, justice, honesty -- have been rivalled and replaced by self-interest, power acquisition, and disregard for what is factual or true. Reality, that always elusive foundation of meaning, does not exist in itself anymore, but is a malleable and manipulated commodity in the hands of those who hold the reins of power.
We live in a dangerous time. The metaphor extended to us during this Covid-19 time is the tension of remaining inside or going outside.
Final question. Returning to Negri and Hardt, and adding Giorgio Agamben to the discussion, they have expressed grave concerns for the future of democracy. Hardt and Negrfs Multitude begins with a crit- ical analysis of the permanent state of war that has become a standard feature of the current international order as dominated by the United States. Similarly, Agamben has written extensively about the 6istate of exception" that threatens to transform democracies into totalitarian states. Speaking from your dual expertise as a philosopher combined with your experience as an actual politician as a former member of the European Parliament, do you agree that this state of exception has become the new working paradigm of government? If so, then what can be done?
If I believed that this had become the paradigm, then the simple answer to the last question would be that there is nothing that can be done. On the basis of my experience in the European Parliament, I feel very strongly that the logic of war is becoming the logic of everyday life. We speak more and more explicitly in war terms. It is also the game of power. For example, while I would not say that Bush provoked 9/11, surely he has exploited it very, very well, to the point that books such as Before and After by Phyllis Bennis or documentaries such as Loose Change by Dylan Avery make us all wonder if such exploitation has any limits. The repercussions of this become tragically evident when his government proved too slow in responding to Hurricane Katrina, which utterly devastated the city of New Orleans, ex- posing the finite resources the government has in hand and the fragile balance of a society still haunted by its legacy of racism. Many criticized Bush for responding too late and devoting so much of the nation's resources to the war of choice in Iraq when his own country remains in such grave need.
But, returning to Negri and Agamben, my problem, as I suggested earlier, is that they are both guilty of too much ideological rigidity. By interpreting the state of exception in absolute terms, everything fits together quite reasonably. The only possibility for democracy in our current situation is to exploit the holes, the margins, which was, by the way, the idea in the 1970s behind something Tony Negri called autonomies the effort to construe or build autonomous communities—not try to take the power, but try to construe peripheral powers. If people around the world protest the war in Iraq, for example, it doesn't mean taking control of Windsor Palace or the White House, but, nevertheless, it eases and slows down the wheels of power. --"
At the beginning of the nineteenth and twentieth century, philosophy was very suspicious of technology. This has changed. The only possibility today is not to categorically reject the machinery of power but to slow down the process of the reproduction of capital. How can this be done? There are the hackers and the saboteurs, of course. But imagine, for instance, how Italians could ruin Berlusconi if we all decided to boycott any merchant who advertised on his many television stations. But we don't do it. Why? Because we are not yet so poor, so angry. But when that comes, we cannot oppose the logic of power with weapons because they would kill us. But we can try to extend the replication of autonomous centers. I believe in that. After all, there is nothing better to believe in. Isn't this the very idea of the multitude? Having many communities working—not necessarily together in the sense of a coordinated effort—but simply working against.
That is why I sometimes call myself an anarchist. I have proposed in the conclusion to one of my recent papers that we take seriously the idea from a book by Reiner Schurmann on Heidegger (On Being and Acting: From Principles to Anarchy). Schurmann emphasized how Heidegger had preached the end of the epoch dominated by an arche, by the principle, so that we now live in an anarchic age. But now I would say we have to interpret this a little more literally. We have to be outside. This is a postmodern idea. The idea is that I must subtract myself from the game of power. For instance, it was important for me to no longer be elected as a member of parliament. I discovered I could do something without too many engagements vis-a-vis a party. I discovered that when you get into power, it is not because you have conquered the power, but because the power has conquered you.
(-- pp.111-113, A PRAYER FOR SILENCE, Dialogue with Gianni Vattimo, in After the Death of God, by John D. Caputo and Giavani Vattimo, c.2007)
There is something else to consider, namely, the way words and their understanding shift and change over time. Remember that the Greek word arche (Gk αρχή ) also means beginning, outset, inception, origin, commencement.
So too, the Greek word for expedience, (σῠμφέρω, sumphérō, from σῠμ = with, and φέρω = to bring or carry), has a sense of gathering and moving together, to confer a benefit.
Heidegger says that "Language is the house of Being," that we bring Being to language, that "Thinking is the thinking of Being."
“Thinking accomplishes the relation of Being to the essence of man. It does not make or cause the relation. Thinking brings this relation to Being solely as something handed over to it from Being. Such offering consists in the fact that in thinking Being comes to language. Language is the house of Being. In its home man dwells. Those who think and those who create with words are the guardians of this home. Their guardianship accomplishes the manifestation of Being insofar as they bring the manifestation to language and maintain it in language through their speech. Thinking does not become action only because some effect issues from it or because it is applied. Thinking acts insofar as it thinks.”
If language loses its meaning, if we no longer think, we threaten the very ground of our Being.
We have to be careful. Careful of our thinking. Careful of our language. Careful for Being.
We exist, always, at the beginning, at origin.
What we say about our existence, our world, one-another, must be said with care.
We must bring the inside out. We must bring the outside in.
When we behold what is within without, and what is without within, we are, once again and always, at the beginning, at origin.
There, our beginning, is the opportunity to rethink things.
To redefine whether we wish to carry together the burden of dwelling in this world. Or, by a lapse of awareness, we might want to divide, harass, and exclude one another from dwelling productively and harmoniously in this world.
Andiamo!
Here we go!
