The Economy of Pity
A. . . .
B. . . .
C. Rousseau thus comes to evoke the
awakening of pity by the imaginationthat is to say by
representation and reflectionin the double but actually
in the single sense of those words. In the same chapter,
he forbids us to think that before the actualisation of pity
through imagination, man is wicked and bellicose. Let
us recall Starobinski's interpretation: "In the Essay,
Rousseau does not admit the possibility of an unpremeditated
burst of sympathy, and seems more inclined to sustain the
Hobbesian idea of the war of all against all":
They were not bound by an idea of common brotherhood and, having
no rule but that of force, they believed themselves each other's
enemies. . . . An individual isolated on the
face of the earth, at the mercy of mankind, is bound to be a
ferocious animal. [Essay, pp. 31-32]
Rousseau does not say "they were each other's
enemies" but "they believed themselves each other's
enemies." It seems to be that we have the right to, and
indeed should, consider that nuance. Primitive hostility
comes out of a primitive illusion. This first opinion
is due to a misguided belief, born of isolation, feebleness,
dereliction. That it is only a simple opinion and already
an illusion appears clearly in these three sentences that must
not be overlooked:
. . . they believed themselves each other's
enemies. This belief was due to their weakness and
ignorance. Knowing nothing, they feared everything. They
attacked in self-defense. An individual isolated on the
face of the earth . . . [Essay, p. 32. Italics
added.]
Ferocity is thus not bellicose but
fearful. Above all, it is incapable of declaring war. It
is the animal's characteristic ("ferocious animal"), the
characteristic of the isolated being who, not having been awakened
to pity by the imagination, does not yet participate in sociality
or in humankind. That animal, let us emphasise, "would be
ready to do unto others all the evil that he feared
from them. Fear and weakness are the sources of
cruelty" [Essay, p. 32. Italics
added]. Cruelty is not positive wickedness. The
disposition to do evil finds its resource only in the other, in the
illusory representation of evil that the other seems disposed
to do to me.
Is this not already sufficient reason for setting
aside the resemblance with the Hobbesian theory of a natural war
that imagination and reason would merely organise into a sort of
economy of aggressivity? But Rousseau's text is even
clearer. In the Essay, the paragraph that occupies
us comprises another proposition which forbids us to consider the
moment of slumbering pity as the moment of bellicose wickedness,
as a "Hobbesian" moment. How in fact does Rousseau describe
that moment (here at least it does not matter if it is real or
mythic), the structural instance of slumbering pity? What,
according to him, is that moment when language, imagination,
relation to death, etc., are still reserved?
At that moment, he says, "he who has never been
reflective is incapable of being merciful or just or pitying"
[p. 32]. To be sure. But that is not to say that he
would be unjust and pitiless. He is simply held short of that
opposition of values. For Rousseau follows up immediately:
"He is just as incapable of being malicious and vindictive. He
who imagines nothing is aware only of himself; he is isolated in the
midst of mankind" (ibid.).
In that "state," the oppositions available in
Hobbes have neither sense nor value. The system of
appreciation within which political philosophy moves, has as yet
no chance to function. And one thus sees more clearly within
what (neutral, naked, and bare) element that system enters into
play. Here one may speak with indifference of goodness or
badness, of peace or war: each time it will be as true as false,
always irrelevant. What Rousseau thus reveals is the neutral
origin of all ethico-political conceptuality, its field of
objectivity, and its axiological system. All the oppositions
that follow in the wake of the classical philosophy of history,
culture, and society must therefore be neutralised. Before
this neutralisation, or this reduction, political philosophy proceeds
within the naiveté of acquired and accidental evidence. And
it incessantly risks "the blunder made by those who, in reasoning
on the state of nature, always import into it ideas gathered in
a state of society" (Second Discourse, p. 146) [p. 174].
The reduction that the Essay operates has
a particular style. Rousseau neutralises oppositions by
erasing them; and he erases them by affirming contradictory values
at the same time. The procedure is used with coherence and
firmness, precisely in Chapter 9:
This accounts for the apparent contradictions seen in the
fathers of nations: so natural, and so inhuman; such ferocious
behaviour and such tender hearts. . . . These
barbaric times were a golden age, not because men were united, but
because they were separated. . . . If you
wish, men would attack each other when they met, but they rarely
met. A state of war prevailed universally, and the entire
earth was at peace [p.33]. 1
To privilege one of the two terms, to believe
that only a state of war actually existed, was the Hobbesian error
that strangely "redoubles" the illusory "opinion" of the first
"men" who "believed they were enemies of each other." Again
no difference between Essay and Discourse. The
reduction operating within the Essay will be confirmed in
the Discourse, precisely in the course of a critique of
Hobbes. What is reproached in Hobbes is precisely that he
concludes too quickly that men were neither naturally awakened
to pity, nor "bound by any idea of common fraternity," that they
were therefore wicked and bellicose. We cannot read the
Essay as Hobbes might have hastily interpreted it. We
cannot conclude wickedness from nongoodness. The Essay
says it and the Discourse confirms it, if we assume
that the latter comes after the former:
Above all, let us not conclude, with Hobbes, that because man has
no idea of goodness, he must be naturally wicked; that he is vicious
because he does not know virtue. . . . Hobbes
did not reflect that the same cause, which prevents a savage from
making use of his reason, as our jurists hold, prevents him also
from abusing his faculties, as Hobbes himself allows: so that it
may be justly said that savages are not bad merely because they do
not know what it is to be good: for it is neither the development
of the understanding nor the restraint of law that hinders them
from doing ill; but the peacefulness of their passions, and their
ignorance of vice: tanto plus in illis proficit vitiorum
ignoratio, quam in his cognitio virtutis. 2
Notes
1. The Essay allows us to believe
as little in original war as in the Golden Age. From these
two points of view, the Essay matches the great Rousseauist
theses. In the Geneva manuscript (the first version of The
Social Contract, dating from 1756), Rousseau writes that "the
golden age was always a condition alien to the human race."
2. Pages 153-54 [pp. 181-82; Cole's note:
Justin, Hist. ii, 2. So much more does the ignorance
of vice profit the one sort than the knowledge of virtue the
other.] Cf. also p. 152 and the fragment on L'état de
nature: "As long as men retained their first innocence, they
needed no guide other than the voice of Nature; as long as they did
not become evil, they were dispensed from being good" ([Pléiade, vol.
3,] p. 476).