When one hears the word "resistance"
in the context of French philosophy, or better, when one hears the word la
résistance simply, the most obvious association is that of the French
resistance to the occupation by Germany during World War II. David Hoy’s recent
book, Critical Resistance, is basically about French social philosophy,
but curiously makes no explicit reference at all to the most obvious association
just mentioned. This is even more curious in that Hoy speaks often about things
political, from the standard albeit somewhat lofty notions of "democracy,
equality, and freedom" (147), right down to the more charged concepts of "biological
racism" and "genocide" (146). Still more, he quotes Derrida’s
anecdotal remark about la résistance: "ever since I can remember, I
have always loved this word" (10). It should be abundantly clear in which
context Derrida would have first heard this word that he has so long loved–so
why does David Hoy refuse to acknowledge it?

On the
first page, Hoy raises and addresses the question, What is resistance? He says,
"resistance has been a central theme in the political and social theory of
a group of French philosophers whose work became influential during the
political disturbances of the 1960s…" (1). It is intriguing that the
primary associations for "resistance" become for David Hoy
philosophers and the kind of political unrest typified by the 1968 students’
agitation–about which, incidentally, Julia Kristeva offered what Alexandre Kojève’s
assessment would have been: few died, so nothing happened!  

David Hoy tells us that a "current
need" has motivated him to write a book on resistance. This need arises in
part from the "growing dissension" over US foreign policy and "feelings
of resentment among less well off people and nations" against "American
interests" (6-7). That’s another curious phrase, "resentment among
less well off people." Let’s pause to consider it for a moment. Putting to
one side the cluster of issues surrounding the Americanism "less well off,"
this issue is complicated by the use of the term "resentment," since
Hoy grounds his book in readings and rereadings of the German philosopher
Friedrich Nietzsche, whose concept of ressentiment he discusses at
several places. Speaking of the beginning of the philosophical trend known as "poststructuralism,"
Hoy identifies Gilles Deleuze’s 1962 masterpiece Nietzsche and Philosophy
as the touchstone. While discussing Deleuze’s reading of Nietzsche, Hoy
explains the meaning of the latter’s concept of "ressentiment" as
construed by Deleuze: "When directed outward, ressentiment takes on the
form of a hatred of others and is based on the fiction that ‘it is your fault!’"
(27). In Nietzsche’s vernacular, Ressentiment is one of the traits of the
slave.

Now, one begins to wonder, who are
the "less well off people and nations" feeling resentment against
American interests? Surely they are not being associated with Nietzsche’s
slaves. But just think back to 2004 (when Hoy would have been putting the final
touches on his book), and recall which people and nations created the greatest
resistance to American interests in Iraq: France and Germany stand out. Indeed,
in Europe, there was a general division of countries along the lines of what
Donald Rumsfeld notoriously called "Old Europe" versus "New
Europe": Old Europe were of course the rich nations, such as France and
Germany, resistant to American interests, whereas New Europe were the "less
well off," such as Bulgaria and other Central and East European countries,
who strongly supported America. We can conclude from this that there are both
rich nations and "less well off" nations that resent American
interests, and there are also "less well off" nations that do not
resent American interests (and though the final category does not get
explicitly mentioned, Hoy’s basic principle is that the rich nations generally
would not resent American interests)–but only the "less well off"
which do in fact resent American interests were relevant to Hoy’s book on
resistance and the reasons for which he wrote it (2-3). So, it seems the "less
well off" who resent American interests would be the ones who have "a
hatred of others [that is, Americans]…based on the fiction that" it is
America’s fault (27).

No, David Hoy might
emphatically reply, he is categorically not saying this, and it is a
complete misinterpretation of his casual remarks to suggest that between the
lines he holds that those poor nations which resent American interests resemble
the Nietzschean slave and operate under a fiction.

On the
other hand, perhaps he wouldn’t.

It is
difficult to say, really, because Hoy’s book (and this is true for almost all
books of academic philosophy, especially high-caliber work such as this one,
coming out of American university presses) suffers from ambivalence regarding
concrete political matters. Indeed, most books, despite the chatter and even
preaching about democracy, equality, liberty, genocide, and so on, are written
with so little experience of the gravity of these concepts in so much of the
contemporary world, though emphatically not in academic North America.

This
difficulty can be illustrated in another way. While analyzing concepts such as "power"
and "political resistance," David Hoy presents the admiration of both
Deleuze and Jacques Derrida for…will he say the restraint shown by India in
the Kargil war or the terrorist resistance shown by the IRA to English
hegemony? No, rather, he speaks of their admiration of "Herman Melville’s
character Bartleby" (9).

Now, this sort of movement from
philosophic text to classic of fiction and back again during, what is
ostensibly an attempt to generate insights of application to concrete social
and political realities (in David Hoy’s words, a "current need") is
of course simply what contemporary publications of academic philosophers are,
so there is hardly any point in quarreling with Hoy about why he forgot the
French resistance and spoke instead of Bartlby the Scrivener. However, to
record that one was motivated to write a book on resistance because of
contemporary global political events places a burden on even an academic
philosopher to venture beyond the customary horizon, and that, unfortunately,
David Hoy does not manage to do.

Despite this quibble over what may
simply have been the author’s effort to convince MIT that the book was timely
and thus merited publication, it is necessary to conclude with a few remarks
about the work as a work of academic philosophy.

In this respect, there can be no
doubt that Critical Resistance is an excellent book. For those
readers with an interest in the thinkers he treats, from Nietzsche through
Foucault, Bourdieu, Levinas, Derrida to Zizek and beyond, the book captures
ones interest in the first few pages and keeps ones attention right to the end.
The author is uncommonly masterful at presenting difficult theories in clear
terms, teasing out the heart of complex debates, and tracing the history and development
of the concept of his primary concern, resistance. The book is without
hesitation to be recommended to all students of philosophy. Those deeply
engaged in politics, however, might prove critically resistant.

© 2006 Aakash Singh

Aakash Singh, Reader (Philosophy), University
of Delhi, India

Categories: Philosophical