Anatomy of Tiqqun, Autopsy of an Era

By Rémi Astruc

Tiqqun is the name of a small group of intellectuals whose existence is recalled to us today essentially by the trace left behind in the two issues of the review of the same name. Appearing at the turn of the twenty-first century, it was a highly “intellectual” militant review, with genuinely dense philosophical content that was not very accessible to the layperson. Yet its message, through several powerful texts, nonetheless exercised a wide power of seduction over the intellectual circles of the French left and far left—so much so that interest in this group, far from disappearing along with the review, seems only to have grown up to the present day.

This strange name, “Tiqqun,” is said to be borrowed from Hebrew, a language in which it designates, according to the tradition of the Jewish Kabbalah, the end of time, the apocalypse, but also a form of “redemption” that would accompany this end of time. It is in this sense that the members of the group use it, for whom it designates the “consistency without consistency” of this paradoxical era that would be ours, and also the event, rich with possibilities, opened up by this final situation: “The Tiqqun is always already there, that is, it is nothing but the process of the manifestation of what is, which likewise entails the annulment of what is not. The fragile positivity of this world lies precisely in the fact that it is nothing, nothing but the suspension of the Tiqqun1.” Thus this very name points toward a form of messianism that deeply infuses Tiqqun’s political thought, in keeping with a certain tradition of Jewish thought2.

The group’s influence today seems inversely proportional to the longevity of its review, since only two issues were published, though each contained a rich compilation of texts. The first, commonly called “Tiqqun 1,” appeared in 1999, the second, “Tiqqun 2,” in 2001. If, owing to a small print run, these two issues went relatively unnoticed at the time, even in the militant circles where they were meant to be received, in retrospect they were two landmark issues, most of whose texts were later republished, either individually or in collections, and by publishing houses of greater visibility (mostly by Éditions La Fabrique, but also by Éditions Mille et une nuits).

The review’s ambition, according to the authors’ own wish, is to contribute to an understanding of the era in order to sharpen the revolutionary consciousness of its readers—a program that falls under what is commonly called today the “ultra-left.” The review thus offers political analyses of contemporary society that follow in the wake of the critical thought of Foucault, Deleuze, or Agamben. But what distinguishes Tiqqun from the rest of the usual neo-Marxist prose is an original rhetoric, lively, often funny, sometimes aggressive, and at the same time of great intellectual pertinence, such that the texts often oscillate between the violence of schoolboy provocation and the seriousness of the most demanding philosophical essays. To sum up, what makes the singularity of Tiqqunian writing is that it accompanies political analysis with a freshness of tone and a dimension of polemical impertinence that renews this kind of writing. Notably because this occurs, as will be shown here, through a genuine aesthetic concern, Tiqqun, at the somewhat gloomy turn of the 2000s, strikes true and rekindles the flame of a Marxism that had become hardly accessible to younger generations in its previous, largely stiff and stuffy expressions.

The authors of Tiqqun begin by surrounding themselves with an aura of mystery, at once intriguing and seductive. Instead of offering the beginning of an explanation, the review’s subtitle instead reinforces the strangeness of the publication. Beneath the main title, one reads the following notices: “Conscious organ of the Imaginary Party” (Tiqqun 1) and then “Liaison organ of the Imaginary Party” (Tiqqun 2), leaving doubt hanging over the seriousness and the real existence of this “party” in question, anchoring it instead in the fabulating and creative dimension that goes hand in hand with imagination. If the term “party” is not surprising in the context of a militant publication of the communist type, how then are we to understand “imaginary”? Does it mean that this party does not exist? Should we see in it an ironic label in keeping with the review’s playful character? A literary import? None of this is clear, and it is precisely in this zone of uncertainty that the review deliberately places its reader—an uncertainty that the titles, themselves strange and ambiguous, of several texts, such as: “This Is Not a Program,” “Preliminary Materials for a Theory of the Young-Girl [Jeune-Fille],” “Theory of Bloom,” or again “Man-Machines: Instructions for Use,” will come to reinforce.

What explicitly unites all these texts, however, is one principal claim: communism—”our only concern is communism,” one reads in the afterword to the Italian edition of the Theory of Bloom—as well as a philosophical legitimation, hardly suspect of being a joke: that of revolutionary violence, through the philosophical elaboration of the necessity of struggling against the monopoly on legitimate violence held by the global State, here called “Empire.” The raison d’être of the review is thus to formulate in various ways an existential appeal—an appeal to desert, to take up arms, to revolt, to build the Imaginary Party—that is, to recruit and make everyone into its agents3.

The opacity on display no doubt reflects a strategy of concealment that is quite understandable for this type of writing, which potentially exposes its authors to police repression (as the future would tragically demonstrate, with the “Tarnac affair,” of which one of Tiqqun’s members would be a victim). It will therefore not be a matter, under the pretext of writing the intellectual history of this collective, of revealing elements liable to dispel the obscurity that presided over the group’s emergence4. The remainder of this text will focus instead on analyzing what made Tiqqun a singular and remarkable group by virtue of the intellectual contribution it carried. Three major characteristics of it will thus be addressed in turn: the richness of the collective dimension to which it bears witness; the richness of the stance regarding anonymity that it embodies; and finally the richness of the aesthetic and literary dimension of the review. Let us begin with the question of the collective.

RICHNESS OF THE COLLECTIVE

In the case of Tiqqun, as in that of any group constituted as a collective, it is first of all a collection of individuals who decide to associate in order to work together. Tiqqun nevertheless immediately contests the tendency to individualize the real in this way—a tendency that artificially isolates, according to them, monads that in reality exist only as non-separated and, on the contrary, bound to one another by a multitude of ties. To contest this way of thinking, the group chooses in its writings to replace the term “individual” with that of “dividual,” signaling the fundamental incompleteness of being, and affirming that the real level at which existence takes place is always inter- or supra-individual.

Tiqqun is nonetheless the reflection of the diversity that composes it—in number, in age (some are very young adults while others are older), in sex (predominantly male, but several women take part), in national origin (France and Italy at least), and above all in the variety of minds and personalities involved: one understands from the writings that among them are fine connoisseurs of Greco-Roman antiquity, specialists in art history, seasoned philosophers, and that these differences find expression in the differing preoccupations and styles easily discernible in the review’s articles. One can add that, far from working in isolation and self-enclosure, Tiqqun maintained collaborative ties with at least one other collective active in those same years, the Evidenz collective, which included the philosopher and writer Mehdi Belhaj Kacem, who attested to a temporary companionship with the members of Tiqqun, before profound disagreements broke out and put an end to these ties. It is also known that several meetings took place with the philosopher Giorgio Agamben, who was of decisive intellectual importance for the group, and that it is not impossible that he even occasionally contributed to the review.

The richness of the collective thus shows through in the variety of texts, styles, and subjects that make up the two issues of the review. Like so many membra disjecta, the titles themselves attest to the variety of the essays: “Theory of Bloom,” “Preliminary Materials for a Theory of the Young-Girl,” “Man-Machines: Instructions for Use” (Tiqqun 1), “Theses on the Terrible Community,” “This Is Not a Program,” “The Cybernetic Hypothesis,” “Sonogram of a Potentiality” (Tiqqun 2). By their subject matter, these texts signal the differing preoccupations of the collective’s members: some rather feminist, others of clearly Situationist inspiration, still others more directly philosophical, or of a more playful and humorous scope. What nevertheless makes for the coherence and ensures the cohesion of the whole as a genuine collective work rests more particularly on the use of shared concepts. These belong to a shared critical culture that serves as a philosophical support for the whole set of texts (notably the concepts of the Spectacle, of bio-power, of forms-of-life, of Community). To these are added original inventions taken up across the various texts, such as the conceptual personae of “Bloom,” of the “Young-Girl,” or the fiction of “Empire.” Then it is the adoption of shared points of view and of a common methodology that takes the name “critical metaphysics” [métaphysique critique], as well as the unity of action and of objective that all these texts set for themselves: “building the party,” “generalizing disquiet5.”

If the two issues thus present themselves in the form of a compilation of texts by different authors, there is by contrast no trace of co-writing properly speaking. Beyond individual differences, the unity of the group, henceforth constructed as a collective, is mainly secured by the use of pronouns that separate a “we” (sometimes the authors, members of the collective, and sometimes that collective augmented by the intended public) from the “ONE” of the massified and alienated non-person (the voice of society, that is, of Empire) and from the pseudo “I” of the atomized individual who thinks of himself as an autonomous and free subject. The collective, through the voice of Tiqqun, is thus meant to extend by proxy so as to encompass and include all the “friends” who share their vision of the world and who are therefore comrades in struggle—a struggle that proceeds precisely through the conversion of all the Blooms and their transformation into “agents of the Imaginary Party.”

Through this play of structuring oppositions, Tiqqun thus tends to form a community, but a community that is in any case “negative,” that is, essentially oppositional (withdrawing from the “world,” that is, from Empire), but also paradoxical or aporetic. First, because it aspires less to the gathering of subjects into a collective than it is founded on the dissolution of the modern “subject” and of the “dividual,” as the very first text opening Tiqqun 1 programmatically announces: “the Imaginary Party presents itself (…) as the community of defection, the party of exodus, the fleeting and paradoxical reality of a subversion without a subject6.” Next, because this community intends to result as much from the fusion of the individualities that compose it as from the scattering of this “liquidity”: “The Imaginary Party (…) lives dispersed and in exile. Outside of war, it is nothing. Its war is an exodus, in which forces compose themselves and weapons are found7.” But it is indeed in this sense the promotion of a “communist” conception of the collective, or in any case a “confraternal” conception of community: “We,” one reads again in this first text, “means us and our brothers. Intelligence must become a collective affair8.”

RICHNESS OF ANONYMITY : “THIS IS NOT A GROUP”

If Tiqqun is a word that means “redemption” in the Jewish Kabbalah, it is also the name of anonymity9 for the collective that chooses to call itself thus. It is indeed a particularly obscure term that absorbs and dissolves the individualities composing it in order to go beyond both the notion of the subject and that of authority associated with the category of “author.” The illustration adorning the review’s front page serves in this respect as a clear warning: “sua cuique persona” is an engraving by the Renaissance painter Ghirlandaio, whose title can be translated as “to each his own mask.” With its slogan-like title, the engraving is a clear allegory of the dissimulation that accompanies the worldly play of identities, which Tiqqun transposes to contemporary society and applies to its own critical stance. Thus one reads on the presentation page of Tiqqun at Éditions La Fabrique:

“A conscious fraction of the Imaginary Party, Tiqqun believes that what is true has no need to sign itself with a name, practices anonymity as others practice terrorism, is in its element in all the coming forms of sabotage, does not criticize ‘society’ in order to make it better, spreads everywhere doubt as to its existence, attests to the machinations of an internal enemy, faceless, engaged in a permanent conspiracy against this fiction, and anticipates a mass desertion out of the social corpse.”10

It is interesting from this point of view to note an inflection between Tiqqun 1, which still displayed an editorial committee made up of several names (even if some are already “anonymous” because they are obviously pseudonyms or figureheads, like “Junius Frey,” a revolutionary who was guillotined in 1794) and Tiqqun 2, where the mention of these names and of an editorial committee disappears. This may seem consistent with the evolution of the review’s subtitle, which at the same time shifts from “Exercises in Critical Metaphysics” to “Zone of Offensive Opacity”—which, besides the playful character of the animal reference (“zoo”), displays strategic obscurity as that in which Tiqqun henceforth wraps itself. Anonymity is thus displayed as a position of attack as much as of defense in situating oneself in relation to the world. It is also, one may think, a strong gesture of surpassing the individualities that make up the group, the better to affirm a movement toward community, through the melting or fusion of the dividuals [dividus] for the benefit of foregrounding the message alone, henceforth truly common, as a form of “literary communism” in action.

Situating the origin of enunciation in a “disturbance” of perception, at the heart of an opacity, is also in keeping with the texts of this second issue, which forcefully affirm the end of the “author-fiction” as a structuring illusion of the modern capitalist world, as Junius Frey will formulate it in his letter placed as an “Afterword to the Italian Edition of the Theory of Bloom”:

“The Italian public, which can have had in hand neither Tiqqun 1 nor Tiqqun 2, will legitimately wonder about the meaning of the notice ‘Tiqqun’ where ONE would have expected the name of an author. Tiqqun, to begin with, is not an author, neither singular nor collective. The insistence with which ONE was determined, in Italy, to temper each review of the Preliminary Materials for a Theory of the Young-Girl with the mention that they were the work of that folkloric but happily extinct species—’a group of Parisian intellectuals’—says enough about the harms inherent in the author-fiction: to neutralize any truth as to its consequences for me, by assigning it an owner. Tiqqun, to be sure, is not a group; Tiqqun is a means, a means in the constitution of a position into a force.”11

Anonymity is indeed here a position-taking that is at once strategic and intellectual, philosophical and offensive: a maneuver against the surveillance-transparency society, a tactic for escaping the “policing” inherent in author-responsibility. This is why, beyond the virality of this speech and of the community itself to which Tiqqun aspires, the group claims to be above all a stimmung, that is, the intimate consistency of an era, beyond the subject, even a collective one. If the Subject no longer exists, only forms-of-life subsist, and their manner of being affected—notably by texts that, separated from their authors, that is, in a way deterritorialized, can act not as words coming from an assignable origin but as “pure texts,” free to circulate, like “editorial viruses”12: it is indeed the power of a speech without determined origin that is sought here. The “deterritorialization” linked to a diffuse and non-inscribable enunciation is thereby thought of as a means of disarming the requisitioning forces of statements and their “policing”—that is, capturing, restricting, and repressing—potential over sources when these are identified. It is therefore indeed a double movement, at once offensive and defensive, that justifies this entry into anonymity, but also the postulate that it is likewise to place oneself on another mode of possible relations, to grant oneself the power of an affective contamination beyond what is allowed by the usual relations of property and authority tied to texts or speech.

CREATIVE AND “LITERARY” RICHNESS

But what makes for the originality, and hence the strong identity, of the review is also to be sought on the side of the poetic inventiveness that constantly accompanies Tiqqun’s politico-philosophical thought and gives it a certain power of seduction. In this, the authors position themselves as direct heirs of the Situationists and of Guy Debord, who is one of their major theoretical and aesthetic influences through his critique of the society of the “Spectacle.” What strikes the reader of Tiqqun is thus the importance in the review of a kind of artist’s stance that continually accompanies the gesture of thought and is embodied in a readily recognizable style, whether poetic, humorous, or messianic.

First, of course, because the review in general does not neglect aesthetic questions, as attested by its format, its layout, or its illustrations. But also because Tiqqun’s writings are steeped in a constant search for rhetorical power, notably to serve the “polemical” dimension of the texts—one example among others being the recurrent use of provocative designations to refer, without expressly naming them—here again in a certain contagious extension of anonymity—to the authors alluded to in the texts13. More broadly, there is a taste for striking formulas, wordplay, or slogans that sound good: “Annihilate nothingness,” “Bloom lives in Bloom,” not to mention the genuine passion invested in demonstrating the abyssal depth of marketing tautologies such as Nike’s “I am what I am”14. These stylistic tendencies ultimately reveal a fascination with the phraseology of popular magazines and the rhetoric of the world of spectacle, such as they will be the principal source of the most playful of all the review’s texts: Preliminary Materials for a Theory of the Young-Girl. They in fact constitute the basis of that ironic treatment of evil by evil that the pamphlet seems to propose, through an effective specular play that at once diverts and turns back the formulas of fashion by inserting them at the heart of a theoretical argument: it is this odd game that makes it possible to construct the conceptual persona that is the “Young-Girl,” whose ethos of a Lolita at once plugged-in and “unplugged” makes her a social icon of the void and the paradigm of every alienated form-of-life, on a par with Bloom. In the end, this contributes to giving a truly pleasant and lively character to the very serious reflections on the disappearance of the Subject that populate the texts.

If Tiqqun’s prose sometimes seems singularly austere in the highly structured development of its philosophical reasonings (see for example Contributions to the War in Progress, whose glosses or organization into sorites—forms of philosophical reasoning based on the syllogism—are moreover a relatively “aesthete” version of the organization of philosophical discourse), it is also sometimes tinged with mystical or lyrical outbursts that point very directly toward poetry. The elegiac tonalities of certain texts or parts of texts are sometimes not far removed from those of a kind of inspired preaching: thus, for example, the appeal to desertion found at the end of the Theory of Bloom, when the text takes the explicit form of a poem—through syntax and sonorities, and even in its layout. Moreover, the search for a particular typography, as well as the mixing of voices in the form of Surrealist collages and cut-up, also appear as strong principles of composition in Preliminary Materials for a Theory of the Young-Girl, like so many pieces of “exquisite corpses” strung end to end.

Certain texts even seem to venture toward fiction, such as the “railway” anecdote placed at the beginning of the Theory of Bloom, which stages a telephone conversation overheard in a train car15. This brief moment of fictional monologue titled “who are you really?”, though allegorical, proves on reading to be not only narrative but also very theatrical. And this is the whole contemporaneity of Tiqqun: to know how to absorb in this way the parlance of the era, to make its voices heard sometimes very distinctly, and to turn them back so as to make them serve the critical construction that is their own.

More generally, one can say that an emphatic aesthetic concern accompanies, in both issues, the formal and visual singularity of Tiqqun, in the form of the texts as in the rich iconography surrounding them. The whole thus bears witness to a genuine literary activity in the broad sense. Although fundamentally serious, Tiqqun’s polemical writing is also in this sense a game that involves a marked and very conscious creative dimension. This is why, if the philosophical pretension of the review—evident in the regular references to Heidegger, Foucault, Deleuze, or Agamben—obviously remains primary, the inspiration guiding the authors also comes largely from a few great figures of literature, themselves abundantly cited: Joyce, Musil, Michaux, Pessoa, Kafka, or again Melville. The review’s texts thus turn out to be riddled with literary references, like the very first of them, the inaugural manifesto titled “Well then, war!”, which is a quotation from Choderlos de Laclos’s Dangerous Liaisons, recycled into a critical and political program. One of the review’s principal heroes, Bloom, moreover takes his name from a character in Joyce, a certainly cryptic quotation from whom is placed as an epigraph to the text. And one will even find in the review the mention of another conceptual persona drawn from the world of literature, a figure that embodies in Tiqqun’s eyes the ethos of individualist reactionary society: the “houellebecq”16.

Literature is thus a constant source of inspiration for the authors. Their political assertions never cease to draw inspiration from, and sometimes even rest very directly upon, the analyses of a certain history of literary modernity and its great figures: thus “The West must fear an insurrection rising within it as the voice of Kafka came to fracture the classical novel,” one reads in the Italian afterword to the Theory of Bloom17. But much more than that: beyond simple quotations, certain recognized authors find themselves literally enlisted in Tiqqun’s “Imaginary Party.” This is what the DGSI (the French intelligence services) seems to worry about, if we are to believe the analysis published on the anarchist site lundimatin.am, dated January 2018, in an article with a title that could not be clearer: “A DGSI note reveals that the Imaginary Party would in reality be a literary movement18.”

This “true-false note” retraces the “literary” origin of the Party and notably reports the recruitment of the writers Antoine Volodine and Roberto Bolaño. The anarchist site deciphers this famous note, explaining:

“The document openly implicates the writers Antoine Volodine and Roberto Bolaño, establishing their participation in the movement in question. (…) Composed of ‘marginal writers,’ the Imaginary Party would thus be a grouping ‘resolutely hostile to any form of literary milieu or literary institution: academies, universities, prestigious publishing houses, literary prizes, but also specialized magazines, so-called ‘underground’ circles, engaged writers, and other avant-garde tendencies are unanimously regarded as betrayals of ‘authentic literature’ and compromises with ‘capitalist reality’.’”19

This example, which admittedly goes beyond the historical framework of the review stricto sensu, nevertheless demonstrates the survival of Tiqqunism up to the present day, despite the disappearance—or rather the “dormancy”—of the review itself. The alleged “DGSI note,” highly inspired (for there are also poet-policemen, it seems), fits perfectly into the lineage of the group’s writings and thus continues its work of critique and creation20.

It remains, however, that the tiqquns obviously do not want to appear as writers—above all not that. They aspire to no literary recognition, unlike, for example, the members of EvidenZ, a collective some of whose members had that pretension and did not, for their part, contemplate anonymity. The tiqquns, for their part, as we have seen, are wary of and never cease to denounce the ravages of the “author-style.” The review means to be first and foremost philosophical, or of “critical metaphysics.” Within this framework, style can only appear as a bourgeois and individual affair; stylistic ambition would necessarily betray the group’s intellectual and political ambition. What, under these conditions, would be the style of the community? Would it necessarily be the absence of style? At the same time, the Tiqqun adventure makes it obvious that style is a force and that force has a style: in this case it is a combative style, polemical and irreverent, contemporary and humorous, embodied to the highest degree by the mixed form of the manifesto, which is at once a political and aesthetic weapon, but which also finds ample expression in the metaphysical pamphlets that make up the review’s texts. In this sense, the tiqquns are indeed writers, and this precisely insofar as they clearly have style in their ideas.

CONCLUSION: A LITERARY COMMUNISM?

Apparently ended in 2001, only a handful of years after its beginning, the adventure of the review Tiqqun, of which only two issues had then appeared, may seem extremely brief. The community of authors reportedly did not survive internal divergences that arose in the wake of the September 11 attacks. This ephemeral character clearly underscores the difficulty of enduring and functioning together while a heterogeneity permanently works upon the collective and constantly threatens to lead to implosion. The ambition of a dissolution of individualities, of the disappearance of author-singularities, and finally of exiting the subject-fiction, is no doubt too difficult to maintain over the long term. In any case, it seems these ambitions did not withstand the Event.

Ironically, the description below of the fundamentally “negative” bond that would unite the members of the Imaginary Party in the “DGSI note” perhaps proved more accurate than it appeared21.

If the collective did not manage to sustain itself in the form of an integrated community, what remains, by contrast, are scattered forms of life aspiring from all directions toward that ideal center, while moving away from it from the individual point of view. It is interesting to conclude by noting that Tiqqun’s disappearance was in this sense followed by the birth of at least two other collectives in which some of the group’s former members invested themselves. The first is more directly political and less literary: the Invisible Committee, author of the political pamphlets The Coming Insurrection (2005), To Our Friends (2014), and Now (2016)22. More monological, it nevertheless arises directly from the ashes of Tiqqun and still aims at communism. But, despite the displayed form of a “committee,” it has renounced forming a community itself—or at least it has renounced proclaiming that form for itself. The second is the collective Claire Fontaine, a collective of artists that is admittedly clearly politically engaged and in which the dimension of theoretical analysis of the contemporary world remains strong, but whose production is solely that of works of art. It is thus as if these two tendencies, whose alliance had made for Tiqqun’s originality, now found themselves detached and separated. However, in one case as in the other, some suspect that these collectives in reality amount to nothing more than the presence of a single individual, or two at most, shattering the reality of the collective. It would henceforth be no more than a posture—essentially political in one case, aesthetic in the other.

Orginally published as « Anatomie de Tiqqun, autopsie d’une époque », Fabula / Les colloques, La littérature contemporaine au collectif (dir. Anthony Glinoer, Michel Lacroix). Translated by the Hyperspekulation team.

  1. Tiqqun, Théorie du Bloom, Paris, La Fabrique, 2004, p. 104. ↩︎
  2. See notably Michael Löwy, “Messianisme et utopie,” Cités, vol. 42, no. 2, 2010, pp. 33–40. ↩︎
  3. This is forcefully expressed by a video that circulated freely on the internet during those same years, titled “Et la guerre est à peine commencée” [“And the war has barely begun”]—a form of expression admittedly on the margins of the review, but which explicitly takes up its rhetorical codes and theoretical references (2001, 18 min, attributed to Tiqqun?). ↩︎
  4. In fact, while “ONE” does not really know where, when, and how the members of Tiqqun knew one another, one may nonetheless suppose that they probably met within the circle of admirers of the Italian philosopher Giorgio Agamben. And if it is difficult today to know under what exact circumstances the group formed, who met whom, who was behind what, this in reality does not matter much. (This capitalized ONE is one of the fine rhetorical inventions of the Tiqqunians, which they use to designate the anonymous force of the alienation set in place by “Empire,” that is, the globalized system of capitalist oppression.) ↩︎
  5. “Qu’est-ce que la métaphysique critique?” [“What Is Critical Metaphysics?”], Tiqqun 1. ↩︎
  6. “Eh bien, la guerre!” [“Well Then, War!”], Tiqqun 1. ↩︎
  7. Ibid. ↩︎
  8. Ibid. ↩︎
  9. It is not uncommon to see the group subsequently designated collectively as “the tiqquns.” ↩︎
  10. Self-description on the website of La Fabrique, the publisher that republished most of Tiqqun’s texts. https://lafabrique.fr/theorie-du-bloom/. ↩︎
  11. Tiqqun, Théorie du Bloom, Paris, La Fabrique, 2004, pp. 143–144. ↩︎
  12. Ibid. ↩︎
  13. Heidegger is thus evoked under the label “the old filth,” and numerous violent attacks of the same ilk, in the form of none-too-friendly periphrases, are directed against the enemies of their vision of communism (ATTAC, for example, or the philosopher Toni Negri)—a stylistic tendency that will be found, further accentuated, later on in the writings of the Invisible Committee. ↩︎
  14. Tiqqun, Théorie du Bloom, op. cit. ↩︎
  15. Ibid., p. 14. ↩︎
  16. “Exercices de métaphysique critique” [“Exercises in Critical Metaphysics”], Tiqqun 1. ↩︎
  17. Reprinted in the French edition of the work published by Éditions La Fabrique. ↩︎
  18. lundimatin no. 116, January 2018. The article is today available on the site infolibertaire.net: ↩︎
  19. Ibid ↩︎
  20. Its humor is all the more corrosive in that it obviously appears in the weeks that followed the end of the trial of Coupat, a former member of Tiqqun, accused of terrorism and incarcerated without evidence but for having been found in possession of copies of The Coming Insurrection, which the police suspect him of having authored, hidden behind the label “Invisible Committee.” ↩︎
  21. Ibid. ↩︎
  22. All published, like the texts of Tiqqun, by Éditions La Fabrique in Paris. ↩︎

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