AUTOIMMUNITY: REAL AND SYMBOLIC SUICIDES A Dialogue with Jacques Derrida B o R R A o o R I : September 11 (Le 11 septembre) gave us the impression of being a major event, 1 one of the most important historical events we will witness in our lifetime, especially for those of us who never lived through a world war. Do you agree? o E R R I o A : Le 11 septembre, as you say, or, since we have agreed to speak two languages, "September 11."2 We will have to return later to this question oflanguage. As well as to this act of naming: a date and nothing more. When you say "September 11" you are already citing, are you not? You are inviting me to speak here by recalling, as ifin quotation marks, a date or a dating that has taken over our public space and our private lives for five weeks now. Somethingfait date, I would say in Translated from the French by Pascale-Anne Brault and Michael Naas. Revised byJacques Derrida in French. 86 Autoimmunity: Realand Symbolic Suicides a French idiom, something marks a date, a date in history; that is always what's most striking, the very impact ofwhat is at leastfeU, in an apparently immediate way, to be an event that truly marks, that truly makes its mark, a singular and, as they say here, "unprecedented"3 event. I say "apparently immediate" because this "feeling" is actually less spontaneous than it appears: it is to a large extent conditioned, constituted, if not actually constructed, circulated at any rate through the media by means of a prodigious techno-socio-political machine. "To mark a date in history" presupposes, in any case, that "something" comes or happens for the first and last time, "something" that we do not yet really know how to identify, determine, recognize, or analyze but that should remain from here on in unforgettable: an ineffaceable event in the shared archive ofa universal calendar, that is, a supposedly universal calendar, for these are-and I want to insist on this at the outset-only suppositions and presuppositions. Unrefined and dogmatic, or else carefully considered, organized, calculated, strategic-or all ofthese at once. For the index pointing toward this date, the bare act, the minimal deictic, the minimalist aim of this dating, also marks something else. Namely, the fact thatwe perhaps have no concept and no meaning available to us to name in any other way this "thing" that hasjust happened, this supposed "event." An act of"international terrorism," for example, and we will return to this, is anything but a rigorous concept that would help us grasp the singularity of what we will be trying to discuss. "Something" took place, we have the feeling ofnot having seen it coming, and certain consequences undeniably follow upon the "thing." But this very thing, the place and meaning ofthis "event," remains ineffable, like an intuition without concept, like a unicity with no generality on the horizon or with no horizon at al~ out ofrange for a language that admits its powerlessness and so is reduced to pronouncing mechanically a date, repeating it endlessly, as a kind ofritual incantation, a conjuring poem, ajournalistic litany or rhetorical refrain that admits to not knowing what it's talking about. We do not in fact know what we are saying or naming in this way: September u, le 11 septembre, September u. The brevity of the appellation (September u, gfu) stems not only from an economic or rhetorical necessity. The telegram of this metonymy-a name, a number-points out the unqualifiable by recognizing that we do not recognize or even cognize, that we do not yet know how to qualify, that we do not know what we are talking about. ADialoguewithJacques Derrida This is the first, indisputable effect of what occurred (whether it was calculated, well calculated, or not), precisely on September u, not far from here: we repeat this, we must repeat it, and it is all the more necessary to repeat it insofar as we do not really know what is being named in this way, as if to exorcise two times at one go: on the one hand, to conjure away, as ifby magic, the "thing" itself, the fear or the terror it inspires (for repetition always protects by neutralizing, deadening,distancing a traumatism, and this is true for the repetition ofthe televised images we will speak of later), and, on the other hand, to deny, as close as possible to this act oflanguage and this enunciation, our powerlessness to name in an appropriate fashion, to characterize, to think the thing in question, to get beyond the mere deictic of the date: something terrible took place on September u, and in the end we don't know what. For however outraged we might be at the violence, however much we might genuinely deplore-as I do, along with everyone else-the number ofdead, no one will really be convinced that this is, in the end, what it's all about. I will come back to this later; for the moment we are simply preparing ourselves to say something about it. I've been in New York for three weeks now. Not only is it impossible not to speak on this subject, but you feel or are made to feel that it is actuallyforbidden, that you do not have the right, to begin speaking of anything, especially in public, without ceding to this obligation, without making an always somewhat blind reference to this date (and this was already the case in China, where I was on September u, and then in Frankfurt on September 22).4 I gave in regularly to this injunction, I admit; and in a certain sense I am doing so again by taking part in this friendly interview with you, though trying always, beyond the commotion and the most sincere compassion, to appeal to questions and to a "thought" (among other things, a real political thought) of what, it seems, hasjust taken place on September n,just a few steps from here, inManhattan or, not too far away, in Washington, D.C. I believe always in the necessity ofbeing attentive first ofall to this phenomenon oflanguage, naming, and dating, to this repetition compulsion (at once rhetorical, magical, and poetic). To what this compulsion signifies, translates, or betrays. Not in order to isolate ourselves in language, as people in too much ofa rush would like us to believe, but on the contrary, in order to try to understand what is going on precisely beyond language and what is pushing us to repeat endlessly and with- 88 Autoimmunity: Real and Symbolic Suicides out knowing what we are talking about, precisely there where language and the concept come up against their limits: "September u, September u, le 11 septembre, gfn." We must try to know more, to take our time and hold onto our freedom so as to begin to think this first effect of the so-called event: From where does this menacing injunction itselfcome to us? How is it being forced upon us? Who or what gives us this threatening order (others would already say this terrorizing ifnot terrorist imperative): name, repeat, rename "September n," "le 11 septembre," even when you do not yetknow what you are saying and are not yet thinking what you refer to in this way. I agree with you: without any doubt, this "thing," "September u," "gave us the impression ofbeing a major event." But what is an impression in this case? And an event? And especially a"major event"? Taking your word-or words-for it, I will underscore more than one precaution. I will do so in a seemingly "empiricist" style, though aiming beyond empiricism. It cannot be denied, as an empiricist of the eighteenth century would quite literally say, that there was an "impression" there, and the impression of what you call in English-and this is not fortuitous-a "major event." I insist here on the English because it is the language we speak here in New York, even though it is neither your language nor mine; but I also insist because the injunction comes first ofall from a place where English predominates. I am not saying this only because the United States was targeted, hit, or violated on its own soil for the first time in almost two centuries-since 1812 to be exact5-but because the world order that felt itself targeted through this violence is dominated largely by the Anglo-American idiom, an idiom that is indissociablylinked to the political discourse that dominates the world stage, to international law, diplomatic institutions, the media, and the greatest technoscientific, capitalist, and military power. And it is very much a question ofthe still enigmatic but also criticalessence ofthis hegemony. By critica~ I mean at once decisive, potentially decisionary, decisionmaking, and in crisis: today more vulnerable and threatened than ever. Whether this "impression" isjustified or not, it is in itselfan event, let us never forget it, especially when it is, though in quite different ways, a properly global effect. The "impression" cannot be dissociated from all the affects, interpretations, and rhetoric that have at once reflected, communicated, and "globalized" it, from everything that also and first ofall formed, produced, and made it possible. The "impres- ADialog;uewith]acques Derrida 8g sion" thus resembles "the very thing" that produced it. Even ifthe socalled "thing" cannot be reduced to it. Even if, therefore, the eventitself cannot be reduced to it. The event is made up ofthe "thing" itself(that which happens or comes) and the impression (itselfat once "spontaneous" and "controlled") that is given, left, or made by the so-called ''thing." We could say that the impression is "informed," in both senses ofthe word: a predominant system gave it form, and this form then gets run through an organized information machine (language, communication, rhetoric, image, media, and so on). This informational apparatus is from the very outset political, technical, economic. Butwe can and, I believe, must (and this duty is at once philosophical and political) distinguish between the supposedly brute fact, the "impression," and the interpretation. It is ofcourse just about impossible, I realize, to distinguish the "brute" fact from the system that produces the ''information" about it. But it is necessary to push the analysis as far as possible. To produce a "major event," it is, sad to say, not enough, and this has been true for some time now, to cause the deaths ofsome four thousand people, and especially "civilians," in just a few seconds by means of socalled advanced technology. Many examples could be given from the world wars (for you specified that this event appears even more important to those who "have never lived through a world war") but also from after these wars, examples ofquasi-instantaneous mass murders that were not recorded, interpreted, felt, and presented as "major events."They did not give the "impression," at least not to everyone, of being unforgettable catastrophes. We must thus ask why this is the case and distinguish between two ''impressions." On the one hand, compassion for the victims and indignation over the killings; our sadness and condemnation should be without limits, unconditional, unimpeachable; they are responding to an undeniable "event," beyond all simulacra and all possible virtualization; they respond with what might be called the heart and they go straight to the heart of the event. On the other hand, the interpreted, interpretative, informed impression, the conditional evaluation that makes us believe that this is a "major event."Belief, the phenomenon of credit and of accreditation, constitutes an essential dimension of the evaluation, of the dating, indeed, of the compulsive inflation ofwhich we've been speaking. By distinguishing impression from belief, I continue to make as ifl were privileging this language ofEnglish empiri- go Autoimmunity: Real and Symbolic Suicides cism, which we would be wrong to resist here. All the philosophical questions remain open, unless they are opening up again in a perhaps new and original way: What is an impression? What is a belief? But especially: what is an event worthy of this name? And a "major" event, that is, one that is actually more of an "event," more actually an "event," than ever? An event that would bear witness, in an exemplary or hyperbolic fashion, to the very essence of an event or even to an event beyond essence? For could an event that still conforms to an essence, to a Iaw or to a truth, indeed to a concept ofthe event, ever be a major event? A major event should be so unforeseeable and irruptive that it disturbs even the horizon ofthe concept or essence on the basis ofwhich we believe we recognize an event as such. That is why all the "philosophical" questions remain open, perhaps even beyond philosophy itself, as soon as it is a matter ofthinking the event. B o R R A n o R I : You mean "event" in the Heideggerian sense? D E R R I D A : No doubt, but, curiously, to the extent that the thought ofEreig;nis in Heidegger would be turned not only toward the apfrropriation of the proper (eigen) but toward a certain exfrropriation that Heidegger himself names (Enteignis). The undergoing of the event, that which in the undergoing or in the ordeal at once opens itself up to and resists experience, is, it seems to me, a certain unappropriability of what comes or happens. The event is what comes and, in coming, comes to surprise me, to surprise and to suspend comprehension: the event is first ofall that which I do not first ofall comprehend. Better, the event is first ofall that I do not comprehend. It consists in that, that I do not comprehend: that which I do not comprehend and first of all that I do not comprehend, the fact that I do not comprehend: my incomprehension. That is the limit, at once internal and external, on which I would like to insist here: although the experience of an event, the mode according to which it affects us, calls for a movement ofappropriation (comprehension, recognition, identification, description, determination, interpretation on the basis ofa horizon ofanticipation, knowledge, naming, and so on), although this movement of appropriation is irreducible and ineluctable, there is no event worthy ofits name except insofar as this appropriationfalters at some border or frontier. A frontier, however, with neither front nor confrontation, one that incomprehension does not run into head on since it does not take the form ofa solid front: it escapes, remains evasive, open, uncle- A Dialogue withJacques Derrida 91 cided, indeterminable. Whence the unappropriability, the unforeseeability, absolute surprise, incomprehension, the risk ofmisunderstanding, unanticipatable novelty, pure singularity, the absence of horizon. Were we to accept this minimal definition of the event, minimal but double and paradoxical, could we affirm that "September n" constituted an event without precedent? An unforeseeable event? A singular event through and through? Nothing is less certain. It was not impossible to foresee an attack on American soil by those called "terrorists" (we will have to return to this word, which is so equivocal and so politically charged), against a highly sensitive, spectacular, extremely symbolic building or institution. Leaving aside Oklahoma City (where, it will be said, the attacker came from the United States, even though this was the case of"September n" as well), there had already been a bombing attack against the Twin Towers a few years back, and the fallout from this attack remains very much a current affair since the presumed authors ofthis act of"terrorism" are still being held and tried.6 And there have been so many other attacks ofthe same kind, outside American national territory but against American "interests." And then there are the notable failures of the CIA and FBI, these two antennae of the American organism that were supposed to see these attacks coming, to avert just such a surprise. (Let me say in passing, since I've just spoken of the "American national territory" and of American "interests," that "September u" reveals, or actually recalls, that for countless reasons we would have real difficulty defining rigorous limits for these "things," "national territory" and "American interests." Where do they end today? Who is authorized to answer this question? Only American citizens? Only their allies? It is perhaps here that we might get to the very bottom of the problem-and to one ofthe reasons why we would have difficulty knowing if there is here, stricto sensu, where and when, an "event.") Let us accept nonetheless such a hypothesis and proceed slowly and patiently in speaking of this as an "event." After all, every time something happens, even in the most banal, everyday experience, there is something ofan event and ofsingular unforeseeability about it: each instant marks an event, everything that is "other" as well, and each birth, and each death, even the most gentle and most "natural." But should we then say, to cite you, that September u was a "m