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Interpretation- Non-black people should disclose their 1AC against black

people. 4 reasons to prefer:
a.) Fairness- non-white people are already structurally ahead in the debate
community, this means that competitive equity and openness is especially key.
b.) Securitization- the refusal to disclose against black folk is a securitization
from nuanced dialogue because there’s have no time to prep. They literally
disclosed no parts of the aff after being explicitly asked. This is external
exclusion offense.
c.) Resistance Clash- They destroy the quality of method debates because as the
aff they get infinite permutations and prereq arguments so side bias already
swings affirmative, which means all we have is the ability to create nuanced
arguments against the aff.
d.) Rush to Unintelligibility- In method debates there is always a rush to who
can say the least in order to avoid clash which uniquely hurts method debates.
We have a responsibility to build competitive standards with each other in
order to engage methods.
At best this is a reason to vote them down for their pedagogical model, but at
worst they shouldn't get theoretical arguments like permutations because
they’ve destroyed nuanced clash.
The 1AC’s affirmation of a state-based immigration reform produces a false
hope in a system of power dedicated to the eradication of the black queer
body. Their promise of a better, accessible life for non-citizens misunderstands
how quare bodies are always already coded as outside the construct of citizen
and therefore outside the reaches of state-based reforms.
Allen’12 (Dr. Allen is the author of the critical ethnography of race, gender, sexuality and
revolution, ¡Venceremos?: The Erotics of Black Self-Making in Cuba; editor of
Black/Queer/Diaspora– a special issue of GLQ: A Journal of Lesbian and Gay Studies; and
numerous scholarly and popular articles, book chapters, and blog posts. “Black/Queer/Diaspora
At The Current Conjuncture”2012)NAE
Since her The Boundaries of Blackness, Cohen has exposed how the US state and black institutions, academics, and

families construct the dangerous vulnerabilities of the deeply and multiply subaltern — an analytic
category she later formulated as “punks, bulldaggers, and welfare queens.”34 In her essay “Deviance as Resistance: A New Research Agenda for the
Study of Black Politics,” Cohen
critiques African American studies’ politics of respectability and argues
that the reputed deviance of lesbians, gays, transgender and bisexual persons, single mothers,
and state aid recipients — in the eyes of not just US policy makers but also scholars and civil
society leaders — marks us not only as unruly would-be subject-citizens but also as outside
cultural boundaries of belonging and care.35 Similarly, Alexander has argued that some bodies, such as those of
the lesbian and the “prostitute,” cannot be included as citizens in former colonies of the Carib- bean
precisely because they embody sexual agency and eroticism radically out of step with the

aspiration of the nation to advertise itself as independent, developed, disciplined, and poised
to join in the number of putatively civilized states.36 As she beautifully shows, this same “erotic autonomy” is the site
out of which individuals and groups have staged various rebellions. Taken together, this work illustrates both a set of nettlesome political problems and
a theoretical puzzle across black diaspora: Is
there any place where [the benefits and recognition of]
citizenship can accrue to the unruly — the “prostitute,” the homosexual, “welfare queen,”
transgender person, or the black? And what calculus emerges when these gendered, raced, and
sexed categories of nonnational, deviant, nonethnic/racial subject, nonconforming, or merely
“other” are compounded? Alexander has vividly shown what this looks like moving across borders: I am an outlaw in my
country of birth: a national, but not a citizen. Born in Trinidad and Tobago . . . I was taught that once we
pledged our lives to the new nation, “every creed and race (had) an equal place.” I was taught
to believe “Massa Day Done,” that there would be an imminent end to foreign domination. . .
. In the United States of North America where I live now, I must constantly keep in my
possession the immigrant (green) card given to me by the American state, marking me “legal”
resident alien; non-national; non-citizen . . . [in] twenty two states, even with green card in
hand, I may be convicted of crimes various defined as lewd unnatural; lascivious conduct;
deviant sexual intercourse; gross indecency; buggery or crimes against nature.37 There are
crucial historical and political-economic distinctions that condition and structure both how a
state — any state — attempts to regulate particular bodies and how national belonging is
reckoned. Still, it seems the state — seemingly every state, though of course in wildly varying
scales and intensities—depends on racialized heteropatriarchy (which is always also classed)
to constitute and maintain itself in the global hierarchy of states. While literatures on globalization and
transnationalism have tended to highlight how the state is disappearing or being eclipsed by global capital and new information technologies, even
neoliberal (leaning) states retain their power prerogative of surveillance, severe discipline,
and in some cases expulsion or extermination of vulnerable persons, even as they continue to disinvest in
public health, education, and welfare.38 My own research in Cuba, Trinidad and Tobago, and Brazil and experiences at home in the

United States impel taking seriously distinctions between socialist and liberal states,
(post)colonial and imperial nations, North and South.39 Certainly, “diaspora” does constitute a way out of the nation-state. Still,
failing inclusion as a properly hygienic citizen or subject, where is the place for the black
queer? Most pressing for me: if in fact black(s and) queers cannot be full citizens in the liberal
sense, can they at least be free? While the politics I highlight here continue to insist on the
state’s responsibility to protect and care for those within its borders, and for families and
com- munities to acknowledge and accept those within them, the stakes of belonging and
unbelonging in black/queer/diaspora are high. The strokes I noted earlier can be, of course, (in the) back slashes—violently
cutting out and cutting off. I query citizenship here not only because of the barriers black queers face

when attempting to enjoy the full complement of citizenship — full “rights” within the
nation’s political body — but more pointedly to ask whether the notion of citizenship, with its
obvious rules of exclusion and exception, stands in for a wider range of assurances and
freedoms. Complicating this, nonstate actors such as families, and religious and cultural
organizations, often think like a state — making strange bed- fellows in their support for
projects of respectability.40 Their shared project is to discipline individuals into local legibility
and particular forms of subjectification. Witness, for example, how disparate black fundamentalist,
religious, and middle- class “race leader” rhetorics, in various sites across the Americas, in Africa,
and in Europe, seem so perfectly in sync with one another and with the transnational homophobia

and sexism of the largely white US Christian Right.41 Still, observation of the everyday tactics and
strategies of black queers, in a number of locations including those visited in this special issue,
persuasively suggests that the “larger freedom” we seek may be more available outside the
state’s purview and will certainly depend on a willingness to expose and articulate forms of
deviance, and to be audacious in a variety of ways, at home in our various communities.42 This
certainly does not excuse the state’s disinvestment, or civil society’s self-righteousness, but
rather holds that sites of resistance and self-making must necessarily find air in other spaces.
They do, because they must. These spaces include audacious performativity, eroticism, the spectral, and futurity, as many of the contributions to this
special issue richly illustrate. Scholarly
work does not create everyday resistance within and survival by
the most multiply vulnerable among us, but it can give light to it — helping expand
recognition of those sites as legitimate political expression.
Containerization is not merely located within the terrain of enclosed
social systems that render themselves visible to the outside, but also as
the telos of the law. The Feds submit to the regime of protection by
protecting immigrants, seducing refugees at the border, trapping aliens
into the carceral regime, which cuts across the citizen/non-citizen
divide by foregoing the project of our hearts and minds for ongoing
securitization of the inside. This begs the question: what do we do with
those deemed inassimable? Black people become the impossible
domestic of the nation-state, open to the law’s assault while beget from
the law’s protection. This impossible domesticity is the condition of
possibility for the prison industrial complex which exacerbates anti-
black militizared violence and expansion of the border zone in the name
of preservation.
Loyd 15 (Jenna M. Loyd is an assistant professor in the Department of Geography at
University of Wisconsin-Madison. Her first book Health Rights Are Civil Rights: Peace and
Justice Activism in Los Angeles, 1963-1978 (2014, University of Minnesota Press)
investigates everyday understandings of health and violence and people’s grassroots
mobilizations for health and social justice. She is the co-editor, with Matt Mitchelson and
Andrew Burridge, of Beyond Walls and Cages: Prisons, Borders, and Global Crisis (2012,
University of Georgia Press), which won the Past Presidents’ Award from the Association of
Borderlands Studies. She and Alison Mountz have a forthcoming book (University of
California Press, 2018) on the late- and post-Cold War history of United States migration
detention and border deterrence policy entitled Boats, Borders, and Bases: Race, the Cold
War, and the Rise of Migration Detention in the United States. “Carceral Citizenship in an
Age of Global Apartheid” pgs.4-6. 2015)NAE
Nicholas De Genova takes up the question of the stateless person or refugee who

illustrates the limits of the nation-state and national citizenship.17 This national
scale of citizenship serves to differentiate citizen from alien, domestic from foreign.
The territorial form of the nation-state, in turn, locks rights to mobility to the
territorial boundaries of the nation-state. Asylum within such a system, geographer
Jill Williams writes, “replicates systems of injustice and exclusion, rather than
challenging the territorial nature of the nation-state and related spatial frameworks
for guaranteeing rights. Asylum, like all legal and social frameworks of belonging,
fundamentally relies upon exclusion.”18 In practice, the hegemony of nation-state
sovereign rights to regulate territorial boundaries means that the state trumps
freedom of movement. However, De Genova insists, freedom of movement, as a human condition,
“must be radically distinguished from any of the ways that such a liberty may have
been stipulated, circumscribed, and domesticated within the orbit of state power
(‘national,’ imperial, or otherwise).” He ties freedom of movement to social praxis, an equally ontological “capacity to
creatively transform our objective circumstances.”19 In this way, De Genova moves beyond Arendt’s theorization of the refugee. By
focusing on this nexus of movement and work through the figure of the “deportable
alien,” he shows that the limit of citizenship is not (only) the stateless person. Rather,
the “deportable alien” is included within practices of citizenship through exclusion, “a
peculiar sociopolitical relation of juridical nonrelationality [that] is the material and
practical precondition for her thoroughgoing incorporation [as a worker] within a
wider capitalist social formation.”20 De Genova writes that the regulation of labor through this
division between citizen and alien takes place in “a proliferation of postcolonial
metropolitan spaces” that differ from colonial regimes of “fixed or overriding spatial
separations of the sort that distinguished the incarceration of whole populations
within the militarized borders of colonies, which served to immobilize human
energies within the confines of vast de facto prison labor camps.”21 Thus, it is not only at
the boundary of a national territory where friend-enemy relations result in the
militarized regulation of mobility, but also domestically, within spaces already
differentiated by race, class, and differential citizenship. Legislation passed in the United States between
1886 and 1924 barring Chinese, Japanese, Indian, and other Asian people from citizenship was part of struggles over “free” and “unfree” labor
that consolidated citizenship around whiteness. The construct of the “illegal alien” emerged over this time, and even though immigration laws of
the 1920s did not exclude Mexican nationals, the authorization in 1924 for the Border Patrol to police the United States–Mexico borderlands
rendered Mexicans the “single largest group of illegal aliens [as legal and political subjects] by the late 1920s.”22 According to Ngai, “The legal
racialization of these ethnic groups’ [Asians’ and Mexicans’] national origin cast them as permanently foreign and unassimilable to the nation.”23
Thus, “these racial formations produced ‘alien citizens’—Asian Americans and Mexican Americans born in
the United States with formal U.S. citizenship but who remained alien to the nation.”24
Simultaneously, Black people who gained formal citizenship with the Fourteenth

Amendment were positioned as the “impossible domestic,” Fred Moten writes, that is,
“outside the law, outside of the law’s protection even if open to the law’s assault.”25
Today’s US carceral state, or prison-industrial complex, builds on these regional
racial formations to produce a citizen-criminal divide whose far-reaching effects are
yet to be fully understood. Black and Latino communities (particularly, though not exclusively) live
with the burden of a vast system of criminalization, policing, and carceral
immobilization. Upward of 2.5 million individuals who are now in cages for the most part are not laboring for the state or capital
while in prison, but their labor power and mobility surely are being incapacitated.26 The power of criminalization does
not necessarily strip citizenship to the point of statelessness (as was Arendt’s
concern), but it does strip and differentiate rights among citizens. While the
Fourteenth Amendment extended citizenship to formerly enslaved people, the free-
unfree relationship undergirding chattel slavery and anti-Blackness was
reconstructed through legislating proscribed behaviors and deploying coercive state
powers. The scope and severity of the US carceral regime rest on this anti-Black racial
animus.27 Thus, it is not only at the threshold of the citizen–deportable alien where
global capitalist labor markets are being regulated but also through the relationship
between criminal and citizen. Not only do contemporary US policies regarding
imprisonment serve to regulate labor that capital has rendered surplus, but
criminalization also serves as a means to rationalize the repressive restructuring of
the social welfare state, stripping entitlements from undeserving citizens. The lasting
social, political, and health effects of the US carceral state—ranging from temporary
and permanent bars from voting and receiving social, housing, and educational
services, to separation from family and community, to shortened life-span—
fundamentally challenge the conceit of state protection.28 Crime policy is not simply
domestic in its territorial jurisdiction or application to citizens. Profiling—whether in the
name of national security, crime suppression, or unlawful presence— cuts across the citizen and noncitizen

divide, but the consequences of crime policies differentially affect noncitizens. Conviction
for any of the list of offenses, which has been expanding since 1988, subjects noncitizens (legal or unauthorized) to deportation.29 Moreover,
programs like Operation Streamline deploy crime policies against people who are not authorized to be present in particular Border Patrol
sectors along the United States–Mexico boundary, a process applicable only to noncitizens.30 Finally, just as a criminal conviction follows people
after their reentry from prison, people who have been deported are also frequently framed as the
source of their nation’s violence and crime problems.31 Dylan Rodríguez argues that the US
prison regime is a form of “global statecraft, an arrangement and mobilization of
violence that is, from its very inception, already unhinged from the delimiting
‘domestic’ (or ‘national’) sites to which it is presumptively tethered.” That is to say,
Rodríguez troubles the production of policing and prisons “as problems of the
American local, domestic, and/or national—as if the localities and domesticities of
the United States are not already and complexly enmeshed in the societal ensembles
and state produced violences of ‘the global.’”32 One region where a multiply scaled ensemble of US state violence
cohered is the Caribbean, where the United States and other nations have a long, complex history of imperial and geopolitical relations.33 The
place of Haiti—the first nation-state in the world established by enslaved subjects in
the process of emancipating themselves—in this story is central, and the United
States’ relationship with it points to an intertwined, transnational genealogy of
mobility and carcerality.

The 1AC is an act of pornotroping that reduces black people and refugees
barred by the Muslim ban to holders of violence that are powerless objects and
reinscribes the state’s power to “save” them through legal strategy turning
Weheliye (Alexander G., professor of African American Studies at Northwestern University) 2014 (Habeas Viscus: Racializing
Assemblages, Biopolitics, and Black Feminist Theories of the Human, Duke University Press, pg. 90-91 C.A.)
Spillers has referred to the enactment of black suffering for a shocked and titillated audience
as "pornotroping": "This profound intimacy of interlocking detail is disrupted, however, by externally imposed meanings and
uses: (1) the captive body as the source of an irresistible, destructive sensuality, (2) at the same time—
in stunning contradiction—it is reduced to a thing, to being for the captor; (3) in this distance from a subject
position, the captured sexualities provide a physical and biological expression of 'otherness'; (4) as
a category of 'otherness,' the captive body translates into a potential for pornotroping and embodies
sheer physical powerless- ness that slides into a more general 'powerlessness' " ("Mama's Baby, "
206). Spillers directs our seeing to several facets of the body/flesh, human/not- quite-human, sovereign/bare life, and so on pas des
deux in her insistence on the simultaneous thingness and sensuality of the slave, which lays bare the extralegal components of this
volatile Ding. Pornotroping unconceals the literally bare, naked, and denuded dimensions of bare life, underscoring how political
domination frequently produces a sexual dimension that cannot be controlled by the forces that (re)produce it. As Daphne Brooks
remarks, "born out of diasporic plight and subject to pornotroping," black flesh has "countenanced a 'powerful stillness." The
hieroglyphics of the flesh, embodied here by pornotroping, circumnavigate the connubial
abyss of subjection and freedom, displaying at once the physical powerlessness of the
dysselected slave subject and the untainted power of the selected master subject . In order to
better follow Spillers's brilliant coarticulation of porno and trope, a brief etymological detour is in order. Originally porno signified
"prostitute" and in the ancient Greek context whence it sprang, the term referred to female slaves that were sold expressly for
prostitution. Also 2 derivation from Greek, trope, according to Hayden White, refers to "turn" and "way" or "manner"; later, by way
of Latin, trope is aligned with "figure of speech." White states the following of the palimpsestic structure of this word: "Tropes are
deviations from literal, conventional, or 'proper' language use. . It is not only a deviation from one possible, proper, meaning, but
also a deviation towards another meaning."" In
pornotroping, the double rotation White identifies at the
heart of the trope figures the remainder of law and violence linguistically, staging the
simultaneous sexualization and brutalization of the (female) slave, yet—and this marks its
complexity—it remains unclear whether the turn or deviation is toward violence or sexuality.
Pornotroping, then, names the becoming-flesh of the (black) body and forms a primary component in the processes by which human
beings are converted into bare life. In the words of Saidiya Hartman,
it marks "the means by which the wanton
use of and the violence directed towards the black body come to be identified as its pleasure
and dangers—that is, the expectations of slave property are ontologized as the innate
capacities and inner feelings of the enslaved, and moreover, the ascription of excess and
enjoyment to the African effaces the violence perpetrated against the enslaved." The violence
inflicted upon the enslaved body becomes synonymous with the projected surplus pleasure
that always already moves in excess of the sovereign subject's jouissance; pleasure (rapture)
and violence (bondage) deviate from and toward each other, setting in motion the historical
happening of the slave thing: a potential for pornotroping. In Christina Sharpe's words, the black body
and flesh "become the bearers (through violence, regulation, transmission, etc.) of the
knowledge of certain subjection as well as the placeholders of freedom for those who would
claim freedom as their rightful yield. "10 How does the historical question of violent political domination activate a
surplus and excess of sexuality that simultaneously sustains and disfigures said brutality? Or what are the sexual dimensions of
objectification in slavery and other forms of extreme political and social domination? My argument is not about erotics per se but
dwells in the juxtaposition of violence as the antithesis of the human(e) (bondage) and "normal" sexuality (rapture) as the apposite
property of this figure. n Once again, I am bracketing questions of agency and resistance, since they obfuscate—and not in a
productive way—the textures of enfleshment, that is, the modes of being which outlive the dusk of the law and the dawn of political

Onticide should come first in your impact calculus only by starting with the
black queer as a conceptual framing for how we theorize our politics can we
hedge back against the constant erasure of black queerness that results in
material violence.
Warren’15 (Calvin Warren is an Assistant Professor in WGSS. He received his B.A. in
Rhetoric/Philosophy (College Scholar) from Cornell University and his MA and Ph.D. in African
American/American Studies from Yale University. Warren’s research interests are in the area of
Continental Philosophy (particularly post-Heideggerian and nihilistic philosophy), Lacanian
psychoanalysis, queer theory, Black Philosophy, Afro-pessimism, and theology. His
book Ontological Terror: Blackness, Nihilism, and Emancipation is forthcoming from Duke
University Press. “Onticide: Afropessimism, Queer Theory & Ethics”2015)NAE
What I have argued throughout this essay is that the “black queer” is a conceptual problematic that is not
fully understood in any of the theoretical discourses intended to explicate it. Neither “Queer
theory” nor “Afro-pessimism” can articulate the fatal collision that pushes a being outside the
symbolics of temporality, space, and meaning. Queer theory’s “closeted humanism”
reconstitutes the “human” even as it attempts to challenge and, at times, erase it. The
violence of captivity provides the condition of possibility for queer theory. Queerness must
disavow this violence to assume the posture of “emancipatory meditation,” in some cases,
and “radical divesture” in other cases. The social does not exist without the mutilated body of
the captive—reduced to a “thing,” a being for the captive. Queer theory has yet to
acknowledge or engage this history of violence at its core—every radical proclamation
whether “anti” humanist or avowedly humanist is imbricated and complicit in this violence.
Afro-pessimism, conversely, explicates the violence of captivity and rightly understands it as
constitutive of the world itself. It, however, is caught in the “double-bind of communicability”
that repeats the very violence of undifferentiation that it critiques. This double-bind is not the
“creation” of the Afro-pessimist, but is, instead, an un- avoidable violence that exposes some black-objects
to forms of anti-blackness not properly theorized (e.g. if we think of “anti-gay” violence as a particular form, or
iteration, of anti-blackness itself). Because undifferentiation assumes a homogenous object pulverized by a
monolithic violence, it often conceals the insidious ways that anti-blackness cuts the object
differently. Some violence is directed to specific “object-forms,” and although we can not
properly call this specificity “identity,” “sexuality,” “gender,” or “orientation” because these
are human attributes, we need a way of describing the violence directed toward the
“inconceivable being-ness” of the black queer. The lack of a proper grammar outside of
humanism to name both the target of this violence and the violence itself is a theoretical
problem that redoubles itself in physical forms of destruction. I have given a name to this
physical and theoretical violence—“onticide.” It is the meeting of the non-ontology of
blackness, sustained through the viciousness of anti-blackness, and the extreme condition of
suffering, sustained through compulsory performances, practices, and pleasures (anti-gay violence).
The “Black Queer,” then, is a problem for thought, to borrow Nahum Chandler’s phrase, and to suggest that it does
not “exist” is to indi- cate that it is outside of meaning and humanism’s grammar. [23] To assert its existence would
amount to a conceptual contradiction be- cause “Blackness” is the ontological position of the
derelict object, unredeemable, and “Queerness” is the site of a subjectivity pushed to its
limit—pushed, but yet within the scope of humanity. The two positions are not reconcilable, and when they do
intersect, the result is fatal. The suffering of anti-gay violence is within the world; we have a grammar to capture its horror. The
“suffering” of the black-object is not of this world—it sustains the world, but is not of it—and the “suffering” of this object lacks a
proper grammar (the word “suffer- ing” itself must be written in quotation marks or under erasure in relation to the black-as-
object). The‘being’ situated at the site of this violence is what we call a “black queer,” but it is a
‘being’ that does not exist within the onto-existential horizon, and if we insist on the
“existence” of this being it inhabits such a low frequency that its existence becomes
inconsequential. Indeed, bodies are visible and perceptible to the ‘eye,’ but every seeing, every
phenomenal entity must first have a place within the Symbolic before it is comprehensible.
Bodies without flesh, without the narratives of life, movement, and futurity that the flesh
presents to the world, cannot be said really to exist at all—they are specters of ontology,
socially dead bodies, stripped of flesh and existence. This social death is what Jared Sexton and Huey
Copeland would call “raw life.” It is a life indistinguishable from death, existence reduced to
“meat”—which is really no human existence at all. [24] What you “see” when you look at a
“black queer” is the incomprehensible, the outer-worldly. To put things differently, my conception of
existence here is the activation of ‘ flesh,’ which is different from the body— bodies do not
exist without the flesh, and it is the “flesh” that was stolen from the captive, and it is the esh
that is irretrievable, despite “optimistic” desires to reclaim it. [25] The “black queer” and the violence that
engenders it present methodological problems that are unresolvable. Because of these problems, I have had to write within the
tension of impossible com- municability; this necessitates using paradox, oxymoron, and contra- diction to describe the
indescribable and to name the innominate. This is inescapable. One must articulate the underbelly of humanism through
humanism—the discursive terrain is uneven and “unjust.” If there is indeed “no outside” to the “master” text of humanism, the
methodological problem is a violence that forecloses the artic- ulation of blackness from the start. Blackness is a textual “slave”
lacking recognition or resistance. The
“black queer” is entrapped in this methodological quagmire. This
is the dreaded condition of the “black queer,” and it is a condition that we must continue to
theorize around, even if we can never actually approach it.
The alternative is to think through onticide, an analyitical framework that
negotiates the erasure of quare bodies from political and humanist grammars.
The 1AC attempts to use a humanist grammar to resolve an onticidal problem.
The alternative creates a new form of theorizing black queernesss that
epistemologically disarticulates the possibility for political redress. Only by
beginning with the question of the black queer can we create the locus call for
the end of the world and a project of global liberation.
Warren’17 (Calvin Warren is an Assistant Professor in WGSS. He received his B.A. in
Rhetoric/Philosophy (College Scholar) from Cornell University and his MA and Ph.D. in African
American/American Studies from Yale University. Warren’s research interests are in the area of
Continental Philosophy (particularly post-Heideggerian and nihilistic philosophy), Lacanian
psychoanalysis, queer theory, Black Philosophy, Afro-pessimism, and theology. His book
Ontological Terror: Blackness, Nihilism, and Emancipation is forthcoming from Duke University
Press. “Onticide: Afropessimism, Gay Nigger #1, and Surplus Violence”2015)NAE

I propose “onticide” as a procedure of negotiating with an antiblack heritage, humanism. The

erasure employed is not a deconstructive move, since the antagonism that structures an antiblack world cannot be
deconstructed (much as the trace-structure for Derrida is undeconstructable); rather, the erasure is designed to signal a
certain murderous operation through ontology. The line inserted through humanist terms of difference highlights
the interdiction on black ontology and black capacity that enable these terms. Whereas Derrida’s deconstruction posits the trace-
structure as providing the condition of possibility for language and the world, Afro-pessimism
would assert that the
interdiction on black- ness preconditions the operations of humanist grammar and civil
society. Rather than focus on language in general, as Derrida’s deconstructive procedure does,
onticide is concerned with the terms of human difference, or identity, which pro- vide the
building blocks for human uniqueness and individuality. Thus the line through the term Gay , for
example, highlights the interdiction, a ban, on blackness that renders sexuality and sexual
identity possible. Onticide’s erasure, then, would highlight the original death of blackness at
the center of humanism. Humanism is fractured by this interdiction on blackness, and it is this
fracturing that produces the field of human difference and uniqueness. In a word, ontology is
made possible by the death of blackness—onticide. The erasure draws attention to this fact.
Onticide also provides a procedure for negotiating with (un)differentiating violence because it
allows us to conceptualize the fracturing within the fungible commodity and the specificity of
the violence this commodity experiences. Put differently, the erasure through the humanist terms
of difference indicates the exclusion of blackness, the ban, but also the necessity of using a
grammar that is inadequate. The erasure through the term Gay, then, is a way to claim an
impossible difference, not a structural adjustment; it does not embrace the term under
erasure but recognizes that without an alternative grammar beyond humanism, we must use
the term as we undermine its simultaneously. Will the erasure obliterate humanism? No. Only an “end of
the world” will destroy humanism and its grammar, but because we are barred from the field
of difference we use the term insubordinately. We use humanist terms and erase them to challenge and
invalidate them. The erasure also highlights the inherent violence within humanist language as it
concerns blackness: to articulate particularity or fracturing, the particular violence that a Gay
Nigger #1 experiences in this instance, one must stand before the ban in language and align
with the particularity of the term while recognizing that blackness is unrecognizable within its
terms. It is a strategic alignment with a term of exclusion with the dual purpose of critiquing
humanism and providing a way through the performative contradiction that silences
particular violence against fungible objects. This alignment, however, is not an appeal for
inclusivity or incorporation into the term but an attempt to express the ineffable, difference
outside Difference. An onticidal practice of writing Gay Nigger #1 would communicate that (1)
the term Gay is a feature of human difference and that the bar written through it signals the
death and exclusion of blackness that makes the term possible; (2) grammatical paucity is a
feature of antiblack suffering, and to provide intellectual space for certain forms of sufferings
and ontologies, we juxtapose blackness (Nigger in this instance) with the term of human difference
(Gay) to indicate the fracturing of the fungible commodity; (3) Gay Nigger stands in for a
conceptual crisis that we do not quite have a grammar to describe, but without it the violence
against beings like Steen Keith Fenrich would become silenced by our attempts to avoid
contradiction; (4) we do not erase the term Nigger in this instance because that is one term
that is available for blacks as objects. Nigger is not a feature of human difference, so it does not orbit in the symbolic
as the term Gay. Onticide cannot ultimately deconstruct the terms of difference, since we will never gain equivalence to humanity
by inversion and displacement (the procedure of Deconstruction). Given
that antiblackness has rendered
inversion and displacement impossibilities, by muting the black body and stripping it of
“ontological resistance,” we erase the term of difference with the understanding that the
erasure does not invert the vicious hierarchy of value but will, at the very least, highlight the
interdiction on blackness that makes such terms possible. In meditating on the problem of
grammar and violent syntax, Spillers (2003: 226) suggests: “The project of liberation for African-
Americans has found urgency in two passionate motivations that are twinned—(1) to break
apart, to rupture violently the laws of American behavior that make such [anti-black] syntax
possible; (2) to introduce a new semantic field/fold more appropriate to his/her own historic
movement.” Although Afro-pessimism does not embrace the project of liberation—since liberation
is an impossibility in an antiblack world—onticide would push us to consider the necessity of the second
proposition that Spillers presents. This procedure is an attempt to move us toward a new
semantic field more appropriate to the fungible commodity. Because we are unable to
completely purge the field of humanism and antiblackness, onticide would expose the ban at
the center of this field and imagine new lexical material to articulate the density of black
suffering. Again, the procedure that I am proposing, onticide, is a way to think through the
ontological implications of violence and the way this violence fractures the fungible
commodity in multiple ways. Since blacks are excluded from the realm of Difference, we
cannot properly call the fragmentation “difference” or “identity” (in the sense that we would for humans).
Rather, the procedure, mindful of the double bind that humanism places on blackness, invades
the field of difference insubordinately, by aligning with terms of exclusion as a way to
undermine these very terms. Thus we can understand the violence that positioned Fenrich as
“inexistent existence” (Gay Nigger #1) through an onticidal procedure instead of an intersectional
one. What distinguishes the two procedures is that the intersectional approach seeks to
understand blackness through forms of equivalence with human identity. In this instance,
queerness and blackness are structurally aligned such that they become somewhat
interchangeable forms of abstraction or are intelligible through each other (we do not need a
bar through Gay with the intersectional approach because an interdiction against blackness
does not exist, so the term Gay is readily available for blackness). We know queerness more
accurately because we know blackness, and we know blackness more intimately because we
know queerness, according to this approach. Put differently, the intersectional approach makes
epistemological claims by presenting blackness and queerness (and other forms of difference) as
ontologically equivalent. The epistemological thrust of this approach is to figure blackness into
the field of Difference without a barrier. The “Gay Nigger#1” is a possibility, then, through this
approach—even for those who embrace Afro-pessimistic thematics. Onticide, conversely, refuses
the epistemological temptation to understand blackness through maneuvers of equivalence;
no form of human difference will render blackness intelligible. Onticide strategically erases
and aligns with terms of difference to explicate the violent fracturing of the fungible
commodity. This alignment does not render queerness and blackness equivalent, but signals
the lack of a grammar to describe fracturing outside human difference. The erasure “plays”
with difference precisely to expose the violence that sustains it—the inter- diction at the heart
of humanism. The “alignment” that I have in mind here is not an endorsement of queerness or
any human difference—blackness cannot fully recognize itself within the terms of human
difference; instead, the alignment is more of a juxtaposition with a term of exclusion for the
purpose of articulating ontological violence.
The role of the judge is to decide on an orientation of our subject-hoods. The
ballot symbolizes an orientation to an analytical strategy for producing tactics.
You should tune yourself out of the virtual reality of fiat forwarded by the 1AC
in order to tune yourself into a strategy that moves beyond the world of Man.
Reject legality as the starting point for how you evaluate the best strategy for
abolishing the subjugation of non and sub-humans. Starting with legal
framework only creates a cycle of hierarchies that produce infinite vulnerable
populations. Only our framework allows the creation of radical strategies
outside of the law that start from our subjecthood while rejecting the grounds
that administers subjugation writ large.
Weheliye ’14 (Alexander G. Weheliye is Professor of African American Studies and English at
Northwestern University. He is the author of Phonographies: Grooves in Sonic Afro-Modernity,
also published by Duke University Press. “Habeas Viscus: Racializing Assemblages, Biopolitics,
and Black Feminist Theories of the Human”.pgs.59-60.2014)NAE

We are in dire need of alternatives to the legal conception of personhood that dominates our
world, and, in addition, to not lose sight of what remains outside the law, what the law
cannot capture, what it cannot magically transform into the fantastic form of property
ownership. Writing about the connections between transgender politics and other forms of identity-based activism that
respond to structural inequalities, legal scholar Dean Spade shows how the focus on inclusion, recognition, and
equality based on a narrow legal framework (especially as it pertains to antidiscrimination and hate crime laws)
not only hinders the eradication of violence against trans people and other vulnerable
populations but actually creates the condition of possibility for the continued unequal
“distribution of life chances.” 22 If demanding recognition and inclusion remains at the center
of minority politics, it will lead only to a delimited notion of personhood as property that
zeroes in comparatively on only one form of subjugation at the expense of others, thus
allowing for the continued existence of hierarchical differences between full humans, not-
quite-humans, and nonhumans. This can be gleaned from the “successes” of the mainstream
feminist, civil rights, and lesbian-gay rights movements, which facilitate the incorporation of a
privileged minority into the ethnoclass of Man at the cost of the still and/or newly
criminalized and disposable populations (women of color, the black poor, trans people, the
incarcerated, etc.). 23 To make claims for inclusion and humanity via the U.S. juridical
assemblage removes from view that the law itself has been thoroughly violent in its
endorsement of racial slavery, indigenous genocide, Jim Crow, the prison-industrial complex,
domestic and international warfare, and so on, and that it continues to be one of the chief
instruments in creating and maintaining the racializing assemblages in the world of Man.
Instead of appealing to legal recognition, Julia Oparah suggests counteracting the “racialized
(trans)gender entrapment” within the prison-industrial complex and beyond with practices of
“maroon abolition” (in reference to the long history of escaped slave contraband settlements
in the Americas) to “foreground the ways in which often overlooked African diasporic cultural
and political legacies inform and undergird anti-prison work,” while also providing strategies
and life worlds not exclusively centered on reforming the law. 24 Relatedly, Spade calls for a radical politics
articulated from the “ ‘impossible’ worldview of trans political existence,” which redefines “the insistence of government agencies,
social service providers, media, and many nontrans activists and nonprofiteers that the existence of trans people is impossible.” 25
A relational maroon abolitionism beholden to the practices of black radicalism and that arises
from the incompatibility of black trans existence with the world of Man serves as one example
of how putatively abject modes of being need not be redeployed within hegemonic
frameworks but can be operationalized as variable liminal territories or articulated
assemblages in movements to abolish the grounds upon which all forms of subjugation are

The focus of this debate should not be a question of non-sovereignty as a

project of relationality but of UN-sovereignty as an demand for the end of
liberal humanism
Sexton 16 (Jared Sexton, associate professor of African American Studies at UC Irvine,
associate professor of Film and Media Studies at UC Irvine, PhD in ethnic studies from UC
Berkeley, July 2016, “The Vel of Slavery: Tracking the Figure of the Unsovereign,” Critical
Sociology Volume 42 Numbers 4-5, modified) gz

Native Studies scholars are right to insist upon a synthetic gesture that attempts to shift the
terms of engagement. The problem lies at the level of thought at which the gesture is
presented. The settler colonial studies critique of colonial studies must be repeated, this time
with respect to settler colonialism itself, in a move that returns us to the body in relation to
land, labor, language, lineage – and the capture and commodification of each – in order to ask
the most pertinent questions about capacity, commitment, and concept . This might help not
only to break down false dichotomies, and perhaps pose a truer one, but also to reveal the
ways that the study of slavery is already and of necessity the study of capitalism, colonialism
and settler colonialism, among other things; and that the struggle for abolition is already and
of necessity the struggle for the promise of communism, decolonization, and settler
decolonization, among other things. Slavery is the threshold of the political world, abolition
the interminable radicalization of every radical movement . Slavery, as it were, precedes and
prepares the way for colonialism, its forebear or fundament or support . Colonialism, as it were,
the issue or heir of slavery, its outgrowth or edifice or monument . This is as true of the
historic colonization of the Third World as it is the prior and ongoing settler colonization of the
Fourth.23‘The modern world owes its very existence to slavery’ (Grandin, 2014a).24 What could this
impossible debt possibly entail? Not only the infrastructure of its global economy but also the
architecture of its theological and philosophical discourses, its legal and political institutions,
its scientific and technological practices, indeed, the whole of its semantic field (Wilderson, 2010:
A politics of abolition could never finally be a politics of resurgence, recovery, or

recuperation . It could only ever begin with degeneration, decline, or dissolution . Abolition is
the interminable radicalization of every radical movement, but a radicalization through the
perverse affirmation of deracination, an uprooting of the natal, the nation, and the notion,
preventing any order of determination from taking root, a politics without claim, without
demand even, or a politics whose demand is ‘too radical to be formulated in advance of its
deeds’ (Trouillot, 2012: 88).25 The field of Black Studies consists in ‘tracking the figure of the
unsovereign’ (Chandler, 2013: 163) in order to meditate upon the paramount question: ‘What if the
problem is sovereignty as such’ (Moten, 2013)? Abolition, the political dream of Black Studies, its
unconscious thinking, consists in the affirmation of the unsovereign slave – the affectable, the
derelict, the monstrous, the wretched 26 – figures of an order altogether different from (even
when they coincide or cohabit with) the colonized native – the occupied, the undocumented,
the unprotected, the oppressed. Abolition is beyond (the restoration of) sovereignty . Beyond
the restoration of a lost commons through radical redistribution (everything for everyone),
there is the unimaginable loss of that all too imaginable loss itself (nothing for no one).27 If the
indigenous relation to land precedes and exceeds any regime of property, then the slave’s
inhabitation of the earth precedes and exceeds any prior relation to land – landlessness . And
selflessness is the correlate. No ground for identity, no ground to [be] stand (on) . Everyone has
a claim to everything until no one has a claim to anything. No claim. This is not a politics of
despair brought about by a failure to lament a loss, because it is not rooted in hope of
winning . The flesh of the earth demands it: the landless inhabitation of selfless existence .
Neoliberal migration policy leaves immigrants in limbo, subjecting them to a
vicious cycle in which they are promised statuses that are revoked. This lands
them in the position of precarious legality – not quite illegal, not a full citizen –
to be exploited by neoliberalism.
Gonzales 16
(Alfonso Gonzales, LBJ School of Public Affairs, UT Austin. “Neoliberalism, the homeland security state, and the authoritarian turn”
Latino Studies 14(1) March 2016, cVs)

I have provided an analysis of the authoritarian roots of neoliberalism and of the homeland security state. Through a discussion of
the theoretical and intellectual work of disparate scholars Milton Friedman and Samuel Huntington I have shown how
neoliberalism has been accompanied by authoritarian politics in the United States. Rather than
explaining away these tensions, I illustrated how these contradictory ideologies allowed for the
development of a dominant bloc that was comprised of advocates of free market capitalism
and neoconservatives that would play a vital role in the authoritarian turn that symbolically began
with the election of Ronald Reagan. I also described how the theoretical insights of Antonio Gramsci allow us to conceive of the
homeland security state as a dynamic and integral state with multiple sites of power that could not be separated from the neoliberal
and neoconservative underpinnings of US society. Indeed, I described how the
authoritarian turn gave rise to the
configuration of the modern migration control apparatus as a less accountable and
undemocratic set of relationships. I also discussed some of the major layers of legislation and policy that helped to
bring this configuration of the capitalist state to bear on the conjuncture at hand. In the Gramscian tradition the study of
conjunctures is important because “it is upon this terrain that the forces of opposition organize” (Gramsci 2000, 201). Indeed
the development and continued expansion of the homeland security state has real
implications for the strategies used by the Latino migrant movement and other social
movements. The migrant movement remains the largest, most dynamic and sustained social
movement in early twenty-first-century US society. It has not been able to meet its overarching goal, which for
many sectors of the movement is so-called comprehensive immigration reform. Nonetheless the movement, which at
first problematically appeared to outsiders as a homogeneous and generic movement of
“undocumented Mexicans,” has evolved. The reality is far more complex than what most
casual, and some academic, observers imagine. The struggle for the rights of migrants is
global, multinational and multisectoral with dynamic bases ranging from indigenous migrants,
Black migrants, South Asian and Asian organizations, undocuqueer activists, day laborers,
undocumented youth – some of which refuse to call themselves DREAMers – and most
recently a new sector of Mexican and Central American refugees. A significant portion of
migrant activists and their allies are fighting to democratize state-civil society relations in the
face of the authoritarian turn. By democratization I am referring to pulling back the tentacles
of the homeland security state and forging institutional and social spaces in its place where
undocumented migrants could be integrated into society on their own terms and without
coercion. I am also referring to a new understanding of membership in society that is based
on a different notion of rights, one that is not confined to the nation-state, and to a new
politics of membership based on ideas around reciprocity, solidarity and multiplicity. Some
examples of these democratic openings could be found in states such as California and Illinois, for instance, where the Latino
migrant movement and its allies have won driver’s licenses for undocumented migrants.
Moreover, several university systems have granted in-state tuition to the undocumented, and most recently New York City
has joined San Francisco and New Haven in extending municipal IDs to this sector of the
population (de Graauw 2014). Such policies are small victories in a Gramscian war of position by
grassroots activists. Withstanding these important victories, the authoritarian turn and statism may still
be perceived as an omnipresent and omnipotent phenomenon that presents a sort of crisis for
migrant activists and for Left social movements more broadly. While certainly presenting a set
of challenges, it also presents opportunities. Bruff (2012), a critical sociologist using key aspects of Poulantzas’s
framework, argues that “authoritarian neoliberalism is simultaneously strengthening and weakening the state as the latter
reconfigures into a less open and therefore more fragile polity” (114). Along similar lines,
I want to point to the
dialectical strengthening-weakening of the state and also make clear that authoritarian
statism has created opportunities just as it has created challenges. For instance, the expanding
police power of the homeland security state is a product of authoritarian statism in which a
strong executive office has emerged over the last thirty years. Executive power has been used
to provide discretionary funds for migration control, and for surveillance programs that are
outside of the normative framework of a liberal constitutional democracy. This is also an
opportunity for the migrant movement and its organizations, such as the National Day Laborer Organizing
Network and others, to pressure the executive to use its power to stop deportations, which resulted in Deferred Action for
Childhood Arrivals and Deferred Action for Parental Accountability (DAPA), before a federal judge in Texas put an injunction against
the program. There is the dialectical strengthening-weakening of the state as there is also the dialectic of victories-losses facing the
migrant movement. While such policies, before the injunction, could have brought about relief from deportation for some sectors of
the undocumented population, they have come at a cost. To win over moderate elected officials, a sector of the migrant movement
that I have described elsewhere as immigration reformers has adopted a discourse that does not challenge the fundamentally anti-
democratic and repressive nature of authoritarian police projects such as Secure Communities (Gonzales 2014). Immigration
reformers have relied on arguments about public safety, about undocumented students being
Americans in every way except legally and so on. Such an accommodationist discourse may be necessary for
winning votes in certain instances to roll back a coercive policy in specific circumstances. Modest victories, however,
come at a price and represent both small victories and defeat for the oppositional sectors of
the migrant movement that seek more far reaching transformation and justice. They also
represent defeat for they reinforce the rationale for having the homeland security state in the
first place and obfuscate the structural forces displacing people on a global scale. Most
critically the accommodationist discourse of immigration reformers does not challenge the
authoritarian and anti-democratic nature of the homeland security state. This leaves
immigration reformers struggling for moderate reforms that under the best of circumstances
win a precarious legality for undocumented migrants. It is often a legality so precarious that, as
in the case of DAPA, a federal judge was able to stop it even after hundreds of thousands of people
had come forward to qualify for such a status. But this precarious situation is also a testament
to the organizational and political weakness of oppositional migrant activists who could not
muster the strength to make their vision of the world a reality. Precarious legality is a new
type of political subjectivity brought about by a game of perpetual compromise by the
immigration reformers and state forces in the context of the authoritarian turn. I develop this term
based on the work of anthropologist Mole (2010), who writes about precarizzazione (precarious-ization) or precarious subjects, to
refer to a new generation of workers in Italy who are subject to precarious working conditions characterized by subcontracted work
and anxiety over the future. There is nothing inherently Italian about this condition. We have precarious workers in the United
States to be sure, but we now see the emergence of a precarious legality for which migrant workers
are having to settle. It is a precarious, liminal form of legality that as many as seven million
undocumented migrants will find themselves in under DACA and DAPA – even if the injunction is lifted.
Although better than being undocumented in most cases, the status such programs offer is the thinnest form
of protection from deportation and detention. Precarious legality comes with a constant
psychological state of anxiety over the possibility of securing a stable status that is constantly
in danger of being revoked. This type of precarious legality leads to the forging of a neoliberal
subject, who is both a stable and rightless worker preferred by neoliberals like Friedman. For instance
in a lecture on immigration, Friedman (2009) asked the audience to consider the following: “Mexicans immigrating over the border
is a good thing! It is a good thing for the illegal immigrants, it is a good thing for the United States, it is a good thing for the citizens of
the country. But it is only good so long as it’s illegal! That is an interesting paradox to think about: make it legal and it’s no good.
Why? Because as
long as it’s illegal, the people who come in do not quality for welfare, they don’t
qualify for Social Security.” As soon as it becomes legal, according to Friedman, it becomes a public charge on society.
Friedman’s logic is one that prefers access to a highly exploitable and dependable labor force but wishes to see such a labor force in
a state of perpetual rightlessness. Precarious
legality is not the exact same thing as illegality; it does
provide a temporary layer of protection from immediate deportation in most cases. However,
we must not lose sight that it is the product of the compromise between the logics of
neoliberalism’s desire for exploitable labor, neoconservatism’s yearning to conserve the
privileges of whiteness, and immigration reformers’ demands for “legalization.” It would be a
mistake to think of the authoritarian turn and of the capitalist state, for that matter, as being one of complete domination without
consent and resistance among popular sectors. On the contrary, the
capitalist state emerged through a series of
compromises, and the working classes and socially excluded populations have made real gains
through movements to create change. In fact, DACA and DAPA, as precarious and liminal as they
may be, represent compromises brought about by the power of the migrant movement and
its allies within the context of a highly divided and dysfunctional US Congress. A shift in the balance
of forces in Congress must take place to pass “immigration reform,” but it would be naive to think that by simply changing Congress
the balance of forces between the parties would be enough to surmount precarious legality. Poulantzas (1978) was clear that
“action of the popular masses within the state is a necessary condition of its transformation, but is not itself a sufficient condition”
(143). Indeed, without an autonomous pole of leadership, political direction, and power from
below, the migrant movement does not have a fighting chance to go beyond precarious
legality. Autonomous political action is necessary to create the shift in the cultural and
ideological terrain that made the authoritarian turn and authoritarian statism possible. Having
the capacity to shift to the debate from the bottom up will require a new conception of the
world and a new strategy for organizing that takes into the account the dialectical
strengthening-weakening of state power and social movements.

Their attempt to create a collective movement around minoritized difference

becomes a practice space for the state and civil society to use the academy as a
system of representation and recognition that destroys any revolutionary
potential latent in the 1AC. Their performance becomes a site of pleasure for
the audience that uses debate as a space to valorize and integrate the 1AC into
violent systems of power.
Ferguson’12 (Roderick A. Ferguson is the co-director of the Racialized Body research cluster at
UIC. Prior to his appointment there, he was professor of race and critical theory in the
Department of American Studies at the University of Minnesota, serving as chair of the
department from 2009 to 2012. In the fall of 2013, he was the Old Dominion Visiting Faculty for
the Council of the Humanities and the Center for African American Studies at Princeton
University. In 2004, he was Scholar in Residence for the “Queer Locations” Seminar at the
University of California’s Humanities Research Institute in Irvine, California. From 2007 to 2010,
he was associate editor of the American Studies Association’s flagship journal American
Quarterly. “Reorder of Things : The University and Its Pedagogies of Minority Difference” 2012.
Pgs. 11-14)NAE

The student movements of the sixties and seventies represent both a portion and a disruption of this
genealogy. They point to an academic moment that helped to rearticulate the nature of state and
capital, a moment in which truth as the ideal of the university and the mediator of state and
civil society was joined by difference in general, and minoritized difference in particular.
Moreover, the academy became the “training ground” for state and capital’s engagement with
minority difference as a site of representation and meaning. A historical and theoretical
reconsideration of the interdisciplinary fields means displacing the economic and its thesis
that the academy is a mere reflection or derivation of political economy. In terms of this narrative of
rejection and derivation, we are the inheritors of a philosopher’s deception, the children of a ruse. The extent to which we
accept the academy and things academic as the designs of the economic is the measure of our
dependence on this trick secured through a rhetoric of impotence and remove. The modern
Western academy was created as the repository and guarantor of national culture as well as a
cultivator and innovator of political economy. As such, the academy is an archive of sorts, whose
technologies— or so the theory goes— are constantly refined to acquire the latest innovation.
As an archiving institution, the academy is— to use Derrida’s description of the archive—“ institutive and conservative.
Revolutionary and traditional. An economic archive in this double sense: it keeps, it puts in reserve, it
saves, but in an unnatural fashion, that is to say in making the law (nomos) or in making
people respect the law.” 25 The academy has always been an economic domain; that is, it has
simultaneously determined who gets admitted while establishing the rules for membership
and participation. In the context of the post– World War II United States, the American academy can be read
as a record of the shifts and contradictions of political economy. Indeed, with the admission of
women and people of color into predominantly white academic settings, the economic
character of the American academy did not simply vanish. The academy would begin to put,
keep in reserve, and save minoritized subjects and knowledges in an archival fashion, that is,
by devising ways to make those subjects and knowledges respect power and its “laws.” Put
differently, the ethnic and women’s studies movements applied pressures on the archival
conventions of the academy in an effort to stretch those conventions so that previously
excluded subjects might enjoy membership. But it also meant that those subjects would fall under new and revised
laws. As a distinct archival economy, the American academy would help inform the archival agendas of
state and capital— how best to institute new peoples, new knowledges, and cultures and at
the same time discipline and exclude those subjects according to a new order. This was the
moment in which power would hone its own archival economy, producing formulas for the
incorporation rather than the absolute repudiation of difference, all the while refining and
perfecting its practices of exclusion and regulation. This is the time when power would restyle
its archival propensities by dreaming up ways to affirm difference and keep it in hand. Ethnic
studies and women’s studies movements were the prototypical resources of incorporative
and archival systems of power that re invented themselves because of civil rights and
liberation movements of the fifties, sixties, and seventies. Part of the signature achievements
of these affirmative modes of power was to make the pursuit of recognition and legitimacy
into formidable horizons of pleasure, insinuating themselves into radical politics, trying to
convince insurgents that “your dreams are also mine.” By excavating the social movements,
we may be able to chart the emergence of this new kind of archival economy that
transformed academic, political, economic, and social life from the late sixties and beyond.
More over, focusing on the social movements and the denominations of interdisciplinary forms
that emerged from them might allow us to produce a counterarchive detailing the ways in
which power worked through the “recognition” of minoritized histories, cultures, and
experiences and how power used that “recognition” to resecure its status. The histories of
interdisciplinary engagements with forms of difference represent a conflicted and
contradictory negotiation with this horizon of power. Seen this way, we must entrust the interdisciplines with
a new charge, that of assessing power’s archival techniques and maneuvers. As Self-Portrait 2000 suggests, the involution of
marginal differences and the development of the interdisciplines, broadly conceived, denoted the elaboration of power rather than
the confirmation that our “liberty” had been secured. We
must make it our business to critically deploy those
modes of difference that have become part of power’s trick and devise ways to use them
otherwise. The influence that the student movements had on institutional life within the
United States points to a need to assess the streams of the academy within political economy.
If state and particularly capital needed the academy to reorient their sensibilities toward the
affirmation of difference— that is, to complete the constitutional project of the United States and begin to resolve the
contradictions of social exclusion— then it also meant that the academy became the laboratory for the
revalorization of modes of difference. This changing set of representations, the institutions
that organized themselves around that set, and the modes of power that were compelled by
and productive of those transformations are what we are calling the interdisciplines. The
interdisciplines were an ensemble of institutions and techniques that offered positivities to populations and constituencies that had
been denied institutional claims to agency. Hence,
the interdisciplines connoted a new form of biopower
organized around the affirmation, recognition, and legitimacy of minoritized life. To offset their
possibility for future ruptures, power made legitimacy and recognition into grand enticements. In
doing so, they would become power’s newest techniques for the taking of difference. What
the students often offered as radical critiques of institutional belonging would be turned into
various institutions’ confirmation.

The AFF’s civil rights normalizes racialized terror and domestic warfare and
redirects insurgency and enfolds it into the coordinates of White Being. Their
weaponization of liberal black figures against black radicalism in order to
dismiss radical politics by breaking this AFF against black teams is white
violence disavowed through the language of black culpability! This derailment
is an indepdent disad to their performance that you can vote on.
Goonan and Rodriguez 16 [Casey, ed. of True Leap Press, and Dylan, Professor and Chair of
the Department of Ethnic Studies at the University of California, Riverside, “Policing and the
Violence of White Being: An Interview with Dylan Rodríguez,” The Black Scholar, September 12,]

Casey Goonan: The US white-supremacist state operates today through a different set of discourses
and cultural structures than in previous epochs. Your work interrogates such shifts at a level of depth and nuance
that is of particular importance for emergent struggles against racist state violence.
“Multiculturalist white supremacy,” “post-racial liberal optimism,” “white academic raciality”—such terms
are utilized throughout your work to interrogate a myriad of theoretical and historical conundrums that define

the post-Civil Rights era, particularly in regards to racial violence and subjectivity. Can you, in very broad
strokes, lay out what you are trying to accomplish with these interventions in the discourses, practices, and forms of embodiment that so violently delimit the possibilities for
radical social change in the United States? Dylan Rodríguez: The aftermath of American apartheid’s formal abolition has been overwhelmed by a grand national-cultural
“Civil Rights” as the vessel of fully actualized gendered-racial citizenship. This fraud has, in various ways, facilitated
vindication of

rather than interrupted the full, horrific exercise of a domestic war-waging regime. For the sake of
momentary simplicity, we can think about it along these lines: the half-century narrative of Civil Rights victory rests on an

always-fragile but persistent common sense—the idea that national political culture
(“America”) and the spirit of law and statecraft (let’s call this “The Dream”) endorse formal
racial equality. Bound by this narrative-political context, the racist state’s mechanics shift and
multiply to rearticulate a condition of normalized racist violence that is condoned or even
applauded by the institutionalized regimes of Civil Rights. (It is not difficult to see how the
NAACP, JACL, LULAC, Lambda, NOW, Urban League and other like-minded organizations condone or applaud domestic racial war, so
long as it is directed at the correct targets: gang members, drug dealers, “violent criminals,”
terrorists, etc.). In other words, the contemporary crisis of racist state violence is not reducible
to “police brutality” and homicidal policing, or even the structuring asymmetries of
incarceration: it is also a primary derivative of the Civil Rights regime. This regime is in some ways inseparable from
the emergence of post-1960s technologies of criminalization that resonate with—rather than offend—the

(defrauded) dream of vindicated Civil Rights citizenship. After all, the racial/racist state is still
being called upon to legislate, protect, and serve the Civil Rights Citizen, even as it is the subject of militant
demands for reform that will align it with the Civil Rights versions of America and The Dream. This is the contradiction that yields more and more layers of gendered racist

The widespread, Black-populated and Black-led resistance and revolt

statecraft in the post-optimist’s Age of Obama.

that is responding to legally-sanctioned racist police killings should therefore be interpreted as

a complex form of insurgency. It is, in significant part, a strike against the respectable, non-
scandalous, legitimated forms of policing that have constituted the everyday racist truth of
post-Civil Rights nation-building. This insurgency is also, then, a critique of the Civil Rights
regime’s complicity in that fifty-year process of national-racial reconstruction. So the racist
state has metastasized in the last half century, and created new infrastructures and protocols
of civil and social death (the industrialized, militarized policing and criminalization complexes)
as well as proto-genocidal methods of targeted, utterly normalized suffering, misery, and
physiological vulnerability for peoples on the other side of White Being (the paradigm and
methodology of human being that we have inherited as universal, unquestioned, and
godlike—here I’m referencing Sylvia Wynter’s lifework, of course). I’m thinking, among so
many other things, of the levees in New Orleans’ Ninth Ward, strategic ecological disruption
of indigenous lifeways throughout the hemisphere and in Native Hawaii, redirection and
isolation of toxic water to the poorest, Blackest, and Brownest of places, and the seemingly
endless continuity of legalized police assassinations of ordinary (and asymmetrically poor,
Black, and Brown) people that stretches back as far as modern policing has existed. So, if shit is this
bad—and it’s so, so stunningly clear that it is almost always worse than we want to believe it is—what is the historical responsibility borne by people who differently inherit and

I am against “unity”—militantly so—and full of desire for radical community

inhabit this condition?

(militantly so). At the risk of making the case too bluntly: we experience and condone banal liberal calls to unity
(which are often depressingly nationalist or patriotic) so incessantly that they are inescapable
(e.g. those stupid fucking French flag colors that folks superimposed on their Facebook profile pictures after the street attacks in Paris, which was like global advertising for
White Lives Matter; or the absurd compulsion to insist that one is not “anti-police” when mourning yet another life destroyed by the full force of the police apparatus—because

These are concessions to a form of political life

it’s never just one or two or five racist cops, it’s what protects and enables them).

(which is to say a particular genre of human life—White Being) that cannot be tolerated as
such, if some of us expect to live or see others live. I think such concessions must be critically
exposed for what they are: disciplinary exercises in assimilating different peoples’ political
dreams to the conformities of White Being. At the very same time—and this is the hard part—these critical gestures
have to somehow participate in creating possibilities for collective exercises of radical,
creative, political-cultural genius that demystify White Being and embolden (or even productively weaponize)
other insurgent practices and methodologies of human life. This is difficult, scary, and
beautiful work. And if more people don’t attempt to engage in it, we know who will be the
first to disappear.