Professional Documents
Culture Documents
An Ethics of Relationality Destabilising
An Ethics of Relationality Destabilising
Them
responsibility towards the other. What is often forgotten is what motivated Levinas to criticise
and re-found traditional ethics: the desire to unmask and demolish the roots of genocide from
within Western society. As one of the few in his family (who were mostly in Lithuania when
the war broke out) to survive the Shoah, Levinas’ critique of Heidegger, who symbolises the
Western tradition of ontology, was both political and personal. In his earliest writings on the
rise of fascism in Germany, he exposed how the ontological roots of Western culture are
exclusionary and potentially genocidal (1934). While exclusion does not inevitably lead to
genocide, it is a necessary first step, which – as such – needs to be stopped before it has the
potential to snowball into any form of violence. This is precisely the claim Levinas sought to
Genocide, however one defines it, is the most hideous of crimes against humanity. Regardless
of whether one is a victim, a perpetrator, or a bystander (local or global), such crimes destroy
the fabric of the world we all share. Nonetheless, it is imperative not to detach genocide from
other acts, whether physically or symbolically violent, that – if permitted to occur – may
With reference to the Shoah, Levinas identifies several of these ‘potentially genocidal
precursors’ such as domination, fiscal injustice, and legal discrimination, which he claims are
rooted in the Western ontological tradition. He presents, in Totality and Infinity (published in
1961), a critical phenomenological account of the Western ontology of the self, and makes a
plea for a social ontology of the other in the form of an ethics of alterity. He unmasks the
different forms of violence rooted in ego-logy, the logic of the ego that dominates our
thinking and choices, demonstrating how it leads to the reduction of the other to the same as
well as forms of prejudice that destroys and denies difference (such as anti-Semitism or
Islamophobia). What is most troubling about this claim is that, at least according to the media,
politicians and many scholars, this same ontology still permeates society at large.
While Levinas’ entire opus was dedicated to developing an ethics of alterity that goes beyond
being, that is the current philosophical and political obsession with the self, it remains very
abstract (at a level beyond meta-ethics) and as such only its spirit, or basic principles, are
exportable to the realm of applied ethics. While the former is of immense importance for
theoretical reflections on genocide, it is the latter that we must consider when seeking to
prevent future genocides. It is for this reason that I turn to Judith Butler’s Frames of War
(Butler), which is clearly inspired by Levinas. She analyses how the post-9/11 wars (both in
Iraq and Afghanistan) are being reported, or framed, by the government and the media – and
more importantly, why. It is in the most popular frame (sadly not only during times of war or
emergency) of ‘us vs. them’, also known as the friend – enemy distinction, that one can
identify the ontological roots of genocide. To be clear, I am not arguing that this frame leads
to genocide but rather that the ontological roots of genocide can be identified in the type of
exclusionary thinking associated with this frame. While this type of ‘us vs. them’ logic is
A first step towards this goal, which must be completed collectively, is to identify this
exclusionary frame and to present an alternative frame. This is precisely the goal of this
offers both an ethics and an epistemology based on a social-ontology inspired by Levinas and
Arendt, as a concrete means to destabilise the ‘us vs. them’ frame. Relationality, in its
theoretical form, frames relations in terms of interdependency and horizontality between co-
constituting decentred subjects. Concretely, it asks us to consider our responsibility for others
– within and without – when thinking, judging and acting. The crux of this contribution is
dedicated to providing an account of relationality, which I hope can help destabilize the
In her most recent book Judith Butler analyses and criticizes the media for creating an
unspoken distinction between lives that are grievable, and those that are not (and implicitly all
of us who support the media by watching it). While we find comfort in justifications such as
proximity and fiscal limitations, it is undeniable that a parent dedicates more time and care
grieving their child’s bruised ego then the death of an unknown child whose face flashes
before them on CNN. Saturated by such images and stories of suffering across the globe, we
frame the other as one whose death is somehow less grievable, somehow less valuable than
ours (or those near to us). While the military may be the only institution most infamous for
entering into the human-value calculus , the media has long acknowledged this by means of
McLurg’s Lawi, but we are all silently complicit. While war, and specifically contemporary
wars which are brought into our homes by the media, is perhaps the strongest example of such
framing of lives as (non)grievable, it is by no means an anomaly. After the recent tragic bus
i
Arguably medicine should be included when doctors have limited resources and decide which lives to say, as
well as the law since it puts a dollar value on people’s limbs and that can change given what the person
does…even large corporations that refuse to do recalls if the price of the recall is more than the price of a pay-
out to dead victims’ families as a result of their faulty product. McLurg’s Law refers to a deceased British news
editor who used the death toll of a disaster to quantify its newsworthiness as being inversely proportional to its
distance from a particular location.
crash in which 28 Belgians, 22 children and six adults, were killed – the public, the politicians
and the media were all in solidarity – no expense was to be spared, minutes of silence were
observed throughout the country, and everyone was in a form of collective shock. Without
denying the tragic nature of this event, why is it that we (Europeans) have failed to give – as
promised – even 0.07% of GDP to help prevent the death of many more people across the
globe, why do we not even observe a second of silence for those dying every minute, and
most importantly – why does the tragic reality of precarity across the globe no longer even
shock us?
Butler’s exploration of the frames of war, as a supplement rather than a substitution for
concrete case in which the other is denied dignity, difference and as such is dehumanised. It is
because we accept certain frames, which shape the way we see the world, that help us to
silence other frames, frames which might be more ethical, more critical or more onerous.
While there are no perfect frames, dualistic, exclusionary and rigid frames are certainly the
most problematic. These types of frames permit certain ontologies, such as those Levinas
criticises, to dominate our way of thinking, judging and acting and as such create a fertile
ground for dehumanisation, which in itself is by no means a monolithic process. The claim
Butler makes is that because we have accepted the frame of us vs. them, although in a milder
form, we no longer feel the need to grieve the loss of lives across the globe. While this frame
may not seem problematic, and is not always problematic, when one reads the literature on
genocide and more specifically interviews of perpetrators of genocide, the recurrence of this
frame, in different forms and disguises, is undeniable (Kiernan 2009; Totten 2008; Waller
2007; Dallaire 2004). Frames, such as those used overtly during so-called times of emergency
and war, enable us to simplify the world, to reduce the other, to silence or at least hush certain
voices – within and without. In military and psychological terms, frames all too often play a
pivotal role in the process of moral disengagement that leads to the type of dehumanisation
that is one of the root causes of genocide. It is for this reason that I claim that such frames,
rooted in ontologies of the self, are dangerous and potential precursors to genocide.
Moral disengagement is the psychological process of separating oneself from one’s conduct,
deemed unethical or unacceptable according to one’s own standards (McAlister 2001; Aquino
et al. 2007). Just as we might spend a lengthy period of time justifying a difficult moral
choice, such as whether to put aside money for a family vacation or to give it to a charity,
ourselves that the harm we have done to another, which is contrary to our conscience or
condemnation, of silencing our moral intuition or conscience (Fiske 2004). Simply put, it is
how we detach ourselves from a particular person(s) or distance ourselves from a particular
otherwise operational sense of morality. Many first-hand accounts indicate that others can
actually observe this process. One mother describes her experience of her son, returning from
his first tour in Iraq, as follows: ‘He would get this glazed look over him and we’d be in a
discussion and his eyes would literally get glassy and he would just disconnect’ (Phillips
2010: 6). Levinas was critical of any dehumanisation of the other and did not often distinguish
between lesser and viler forms (perhaps because this would open the door, even slightly, to a
space for justifying minor forms of violence), nonetheless, as Butler elucidates, the greatest
danger – experienced during times of war which is all too often a cover for genocide – are
those forms of dehumanisation rooted in a fundamental exclusionary binary logic of ‘us vs.
them’.
According to Bandura, dehumanisation and/or blaming the victim is one of four mechanisms
of moral disengagement each of which occurs by turning off one, or more, of the following
Reprehensible Detrimental
Victim
Conduct Effects
Displacement of Responsibility
Diffusion of Responsibility
While for Bandura dehumanisation is but one mechanism of moral disengagement, what we
refer to as the ‘us vs. them’ frame (and associate with dehumanisation in a more general
Levinasian sense) plays a role in all of these mechanisms. Rather than clearly identifying
excluded groups, euphemistically masked frames are used thereby enabling these other
etc. According to Moshman, the most common types of euphemisms are those of dangerous
beings (the enemy, racial impurity, etc.), non-human (i.e. animals, insects etc.), or non-beings
(i.e. garbage, machines, etc.) (2007).What is most common in the military are euphemistic
abbreviations, such as PAX for people. These exclusionary frames, regardless of their
particular form, are the first step in a process that potentially leads to genocide. Frames create
binary modes of thinking; this exclusionary process is then connected to a hierarchy by means
of force or power. Following upon this polarisation, the other or them is seen to be different,
and lesser in some manner, than us. As a result of this, the other is seen as dangerous, non-
human or not-living enabling the self, or the ‘us’, to harm them – most often first verbally,
often guised in terms of humour, then publically or psychologically, and lastly physically.
According to Moshman, the fourth step is the process of self-justification, which is less
An ‘us vs. them’ frame, dichotomisation in the above terms, such as those with which we
characterize our interactions with strangers is not necessarily enlaced with power or rigidity.
The cause of the second step to dehumanisation and potential destruction (third step) is often
to be found in the particular context such as in times of crisis, instability or emergency politics
all of which intensify a culture of fear. The question, which needs to be asked, is whether it is
In line with Hannah Arendt’s conclusions in her analysis of the Eichmann trial (2006), I do
not believe that genocide is the result of a real hatred or an act of a monster (to argue such
would be to deny the humanity of the perpetrator) but rather that it is an extreme form, the
final step in a longer procedure, of a much more ordinary process – one that finds its
ontological roots in exclusionary frames. Genocide, and its psychological and physical
precursors, is often the tragic combination of 1) instability (political, economic, etc.), 2) fear
(violence, war, etc.) and 3) a perceived threat to one’s identity. Instability, which is
its inevitability or the possibility of an alternative (such as returning to the supposed certainty
of the past). Closely related – but different in that it is avoidable – is the ethos of fear. This
fear, often justified as the only possible response to the series of crisis that mark our times –
environmental, economic, political, etc. – is by no means the only means to address these
problems. The realisation that so many supposed certainties are sinking into an abyss need not
lead us to live in fear (one of the major causes for the rise of the far right in Europe today).
Yet fear and instability alone do not lead to genocide. The missing element, the key, is the
role of identity. In agreement with David Moshman, “genocides are perpetrated by individuals
acting collectively on behalf of what they perceive to be their own group against what they
perceive to be a different group. … At the heart of any genocide, in other words, is identity”
(2007: 116). In our terms, the missing link is that of exclusionary frames, ‘us vs. them’.
Genocides find their origins in moments when identities are reduced first into a dichotomy, an
aporetic either/or, and second when this Manichean dualism is perverted into a dehumanising
hierarchical threat of ‘us vs. them’.ii To summarise, the claim I wish to make is that
‘identities’, which plays a critical role in potentially genocidal situations, that arise from an
ontology of the self create exclusionary frames and as such are the first step in a process of
moral disengagement that can lead to genocide. These exclusionary frames, and type of
thinking they permit, need to be challenged if we are to make the words ‘never again’ mean
Having clarified the ontological roots of genocide to be the connection between exclusionary
identity frames rooted in an ontology of the self (that currently dominates our societies) and
genocide, I now wish to consider the options before us. The first option, to reduce all others to
ii
While I appreciate that as a foreigner writing in Belgium I do not have the same sensitivity to its colonial past,
even prior to living here the most cited example of such a process was that of the 1994 genocide in Rwanda.
While the king of Belgium, whose private property this was, did not create the identities of Hutus and Tutsis, he
did exploit this previously dynamic ethnic identity frame for his purpose and in so doing created a rigid ‘us vs.
them’ frame that was made official by means of identity cards. In Moshman’s terms, this is the process of
creating a dichotomy that divided society. By giving one group many material advantages, a clear hierarchy was
introduced. While the transformation from dichotomy to dehumanisation was a slow process that took over half a
century (just as was the case for Jews in the early 20th century and Muslims in Europe today), it seems in
retrospect inevitable. It is in this sense that the colonial past set in motion the exclusionary identity frame upon
which hatred, political and economic instability and fear grew that eventually left over 800, 000 dead.
the same, that is to see all others as part of the ‘us’, is both problematic and unrealistic; it is
also a denial of our lived experiences. Another option, the route Judith Butler takes, is to find
For Levinas, violence is one ‘temptation’ that a subject may feel in the
encounter with the precarious life of the other that is communicated through
the face. This is why the face is at once temptation to kill and an interdiction
against killing (2010:172) … The meaning of responsibility is bound up with
this anxiety that remains open, that does not settle an ambivalence through
disavowal, but rather gives rise to a certain ethical practice, itself
experimental, that seeks to preserve life better than it destroys it. (2010: 177)
Her claim is that we must recognise that this happens and take responsibility for the fact that
we, whether consciously or not, accept that certain lives are valuable and others are
insignificant. Inspired by Levinas’ ethical practice of responsibility, she puts forward the
notion of precarity as something shared by all beings as a means to overcome the exclusionary
frame of grievable and not grievable. Butler, like Levinas, asks us to take responsibility for
having created this frame, and for allowing it to dominate the way we think when relating to
others (2010). While I appreciate Butler’s suggestion, I believe we must take Arendt’s
warning regarding the importance of addressing political problems in the political arena
seriously. While our shared precarity is undeniable, it by no means destabilises the root
problem of exclusionary frames. Our precarity is still distinct from their precarity; my
precarity, my problem … your precarity, your problem. Butler proposes an ethical solution to
As we have shown, the ‘us vs. them’ frame is potentially dangerous and as such must be
destabilised. This highly polarizing binary approach to the world, which is by no means easy
to escape, fails to recognize that while inclusion and exclusion will always play a role in
human interactions, they are always partial, contingent and as such meant to be challenged
that come with the end of foundationalism. It is this end that creates a space for uncertainty in
our lives, the same uncertainty that often leads to fear and the desire for an exclusionary
frame, which is easily found in binary identities such as ‘us vs. them’. Concretely,
relationality asks us to engage in dialogue with ourselves, in order to address our own internal
differences, and others’, in order to understand each other – and specifically our unique and
different perspectives on the world. The aim of engagement – which often takes the form of
that communication has consensus as its telos. By contrast, the goal – if there is any – is to be
of communication that one develops ‘shared standards’ based on a more complex and closer
understanding of others. While this standard is dynamic, continuously open to change, and
partial ground for judgment – an inter-subjective standard, rather than a purely subjective or
objective one. Rather than take reality to be objective or completely subjective, relationality
While there are few guarantees, relationality does act as social safety net. The less certain one
feels, the more likely one will act out of fear and it is all too often that these reactions, more
instinctual than reflective, lead to violence. While relationality cannot promise the type of
between people.
Despite the fact that there is no causal link between awareness and responsibility, the former
often weighs heavily on us and at least makes us aware of the call to responsibility. As we
become more aware, and begin to acknowledge, how interdependent we are and the reality
that all we have is each other, an increased sense of responsibility for the other may arise.
Relational ethics asks us to reflect and consider our current estimation of the value of
autonomy and individualism. In addition it asks us to consider how these are often related to
egoism and the denial of our interdependence. By making us question the notion of the self as
illusionary (albeit comforting) distance barrier the self and other. It is also by means of this
post-modern decentring of the self in which the notion of autonomy is deconstructed, that
relationality differs significantly from ethical approaches such as care-ethics which likewise
place a strong emphasis on the relation to the other. It is this fictional ‘border-like wall’ that
allows us to deny our fundamental relationality to alterity and opens the door to a denial of
responsibility for the other (Levinas 1980; 1997). While this calls for a rather difficult
reflection upon our narrative identity, it forces us to question the grounds upon which we fear
the other; it equally creates a space, from within, for difference.iii By minimizing the distance,
one that is often framed in terms of ‘us vs. them’ thinking, and promoting a type of thinking
that allows us to better understand ourselves and with those whom we interact, we are better
able to make judgements and avoid actions of the type that result from either ignorance, or
the other is constitutive of both the shared world and ourselves. Critically, this allows one to
recognise that all our beliefs, judgments, and actions are a product of relationality. Thus,
rather than justifying one’s actions based on a fixed norm that itself has no foundation, one is
means one of absolute consensus – standards can be developed between people. Learning to
iii
Recognizing that difference is fundamental to the self is equivalent to Arendt’s recognition of plurality as a
social ontology that leads to her identification of plurality as the condition of the political rather than its
enemy/threat/menace.
judge from such an intersubjective perspective means being open to have one’s thoughts
questioned and to reconsidering ones judgments. Likewise it makes one partially responsible
for the actions of others as these are also produced in relation to oneself. While this rather
tangled web of relations certainly makes it difficult to extricate oneself from any situation, not
only is it a more accurate depiction of our relational reality, it may also make it much more
it becomes almost impossible to say, ‘I am not responsible’. While this may seem daunting,
such a realisation is greatly supported by the reality that one is never alone (although this does
by no means prevent one from feeling this way). By accepting this reality, one is also refusing
the fear that feeds on loneliness and alienation. Ideally, relationality will help us to recognise
that it’s not all that tragic that all we have is each other. On the contrary, this might be its
unique post-foundational ‘selling point’. Instead of searching for certainty from either above
A social ontology that views human relationality, a horizontal dynamic web-like multi-
While aware of its own limits and contingency, it claims that the self and other are co-
sense, thus means not only that the self and the other are co-constitutive, but also that the
relationship between the self and other is the basis of social reality and existence. What is
critical is that relationality is not rooted in what is shared or common (it is not a tribal form of
connectedness), but rather it arises precisely because of the differences between, and within,
iv
The Stranger is close to us, insofar as we feel between him and ourselves common features of a national,
social, occupational, or generally human, nature. He is far from us, insofar as these common features extend
beyond him or us, and connect us only because they connect a great many people. – Georg Simmel The Stranger
1908.
rooted in plurality, which arises from alterity rather than similarity. In addition to the
important ethical and political implications of this difference, it is also what distinguishes
relationality from many consensus-oriented theories. Aligning itself with alterity, relationality
Concretely what this entails is the realisation that the subject is the product of society. More
specifically this entails that the subject is formed by discourse which itself arises from within
relationality. While this notion of a decentred and deconstructed self is as difficult to grasp
and reconcile, as is the impossibility of absolute foundations, the two are in fact linked. The
Les Mots et les choses, a form of illusory foundation for the past few centuries (1966).
Nonetheless, the end of the subject need not mean the end of meaningful existence or the end
of ethics. On the contrary, as thinkers such as Levinas have shown, the death of metaphysics
may create space in the world for the birth of a new type of ethics (1961; 1974). Levinas
develops an ethics of alterity that arises from the self yet called by the other. This call
awakens responsibility in the receiver, as the ethical subject does not exist prior to this
relationship with the other. Being summoned by the other constitutes the self. It is in terms of
this co-constituted relationship between self and other is the basis of the human realm.
What is critical is that relationality promotes a type of solidarity that is best described as
radical tolerance? Rather than solidarity rooted in similarity, like that of tribes or families,
difference, and our recognition of its ontological basis, that is the basis of relationality and the
solidarity it seeks to promote rather than any shared basis. Relationality is strengthened by an
interdependence, which arises from difference. Unlike Habermas, who defines the goal of this
empowerment, or power in Arendt’s model of the political, ‘Power is never the property of an
individual; it belongs to a group and remains in existence only so long as the group keep
together’ (1972: 143). Concretely, what this entails is that power can only arise between
people; an individual does not possess power. In terms of relationality, it is an ideal basis
from which power can arise and also creates an affective feeling of empowerment shared by
all those engaged in a collective action which in addition to awareness helps strengthen one’s
sense of responsibility for the other. While relationality is a passive interdependence, it is also
the perfect springboard for a more active form of empowerment – a transformation which
calls for a particular action to arise from a relational awareness. It is in this change from
passive to active that relationality is also transformed into a form of solidarity with both
ethical and political import in terms of taking responsibility for the other and the world.
Conclusions
As Viktor Frankl so aptly described after his experiences in Auschwitz, life’s meaning is
found in the act of making a choice – even when there seems to be no choice, one can still
choose one’s attitude towards this sombre reality (1946). Post-foundationalism, and the notion
would rather cling to the supposed certainties of foundationalism, this option is no longer
open to us in the 21st century (although this claim is by no means true across the globe). The
other alternative, an anti-foundational one, is all too often a turn to nihilism and a denial of
our shared responsibility for the world. Post-foundationalism offers a third alternative, which
has yet to be tested. The rise and return of strong foundational claims, whether financial,
religious or political, is itself proof of our continued need for such ground.
While relationality only offers a contingent ground, this offer does destabilise the alternative
frame that I have argued is a potential precursor to genocide. Relationality seeks to embrace
interdependence rooted in alterity. The proof of this relational social ontology is everywhere
to be seen ... in our networked, intertwined networks of social relations as well as within our
own internal struggles with the difference that define (if this is possible) who we are both to
others and ourselves. Relationality offers no absolute guarantees, it does however promote an
ethics of non-violence, dialogue, solidarity, respect for alterity and the unicity of every human
being, as well as a critique of binary thinking, exclusion, egoism and the dehumanisation of
the other, the result of an ‘us vs. them’ genocidal frame hidden in the roots of Western
ontology. By refusing a simple ‘us-them’ frame, relationality seeks to destabilise the ontology
of the same that pervades our view on the world and the other.
Bibliography
Arendt, Hannah (2006). Eichmann in Jerusalem: A Report on the Banality of Evil. Penguin
Classics.
Arendt, Hannah 2005 Responsibility and Judgment. New York”: Schocken Books.
Arendt, Hannah (1998). The Human Condition. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press.
Arendt, Hannah, and Jerome Kohn (2006). Between Past and Future. Penguin Classics.
Arendt, Hannah, and Jerome Kohn (1994). Essays in Understanding: 1930-1954. Houghton
Mifflin Harcourt Press.
Aquino, K., A. Reed, S. Thau & D. Freeman (2007). ‘A Grotesque and Dark Beauty: How
Moral Identity and Mechanisms of Moral Disengagement Influences Cognitive and
Emotional Reactions to War’ in Journal of Experimental Social Psychology 43, 385-
392.
Bandura, A. (1991) ‘How people do bad things: turning off moral controls’ Stanford
University News Service.
Bandura, A. (2002). Selective moral disengagement in the exercise of moral agency. Journal
of Moral Education, 312, 101-119
Butler, Judith (2010). Frames of War: When Is Life Grievable? London: Verso.
Castano, E., & Giner-Sorolla, R. 2006. Not quite human: Infra-humanization as a response to
collective responsibility for intergroup killing. Journal of Personality and Social
Psychology, 90, 804-818.
Dallaire, R. ( 2004). Shake Hands with the Devil: The Failure of Humanity in Rwanda. Da
Capo Press.
Fiske, S. 2004 Social Beings: A core motives approach to social psychology. Hoboken, NJ:
John Wiley & Sons, Inc.
Foucault, Michel (1990). Les Mots Et Les Choses Une Archaeologie Des Sciences Humaines.
Paris: French & European Publications Inc.
Grossman, D. 1996. On Killing: The Psychological Cost of Learning to Kill in War and
Society. New York: Black Bay Books.
Heartfield, James (2002). The ‘Death of the Subject’ Explained. Sheffield: Hallam UP.
Honig, Bonnie (2003). Democracy and the Foreigner. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
Kiernan, B. (2009). Blood and Soil: A World History of Genocide and Extermination from
Sparta to Darfur. Yale University Press.
Levinas, Emmanuel (1997). Difficult Freedom: Essays on Judaism. The Johns Hopkins
University Press.
Levinas, Emmanuel (1998). Otherwise Than Being: Or Beyond Essence. Duquesne University
Press.
Levinas, Emmanuel (1994). Nine Talmudic Readings. Illinois: Indiana University Press.
Maalouf, A. (2011). In the Name of Identity: Violence and the Need to Belong. Arcade
Publishing.
Moshman, David (2007). 'Us and Them: Identity and Genocide', Identity, 7: 2, 115 — 135
Nancy, Jean-Luc (2000). Being Singular Plural. Stanford: Stanford University Press.
Phillips, J.E.S. (2010). None of Us Were Like This Before: American Soldiers and Torture,
Verso.
Schmitt, Carl (1996). The Concept of the Political. Chicago: University Of Chicago Press.
Slim, H. (2007) Killing Civilians: Method, Madness and Morality in War. London: Hurst &
Company.
Totten, S., Parsons, W.S. (Eds.) (2008). Century of Genocide: Critical Essays and Eyewitness
Accounts. Routledge.
Waller, J.E. (2007). Becoming Evil: How Ordinary People Commit Genocide and Mass
Killing. Oxford University Press, USA.