Kelly Oliver

In this paper I develop a deconstructive analysis of the relationship between humanitarian aid and state sovereignty. First, I sketch Derrida's analysis of the Christian roots of contemporary concepts of tolerance, forgiveness, and hospitality. Second, I trace the history and etymology of the word ‘humanitarian’ to reveal its Christian heritage; and argue that ‘humanitarian’ is bound to the violence of Christ's crucifixion, on the one hand, and to the sovereignty of God, on the other. Third, I set out three phases in the politics of contemporary humanitarian aid in relation to an increasing concern for humanitarian warfare. I conclude that international humanitarian aid and humanitarian warfare are bound together through an autoimmune logic that simultaneously challenges and shores up state sovereignty. State sovereignty creates ‘refugees’, which necessitates humanitarian aid organizations to step in and literally fill the space between state borders, a space that has become a kind of ‘no-man's land’ beyond citizenship. Police and military respond to refugee camps by patrolling them to shore up national borders and state sovereignty. Non-governmental humanitarian aid organizations, supposedly operating outside of nation states, become a necessary supplement to state sovereignty.

In my brief remarks, I consider what it means to return and rebind—that is to say, the significance of the re for Kristeva’s thought. Kristeva does not just talk about binding or birth, or unbinding or death, but rather rebinding and rebirth, suggesting that it is a retrospective return rather than an original moment that is crucial. The most significant moment, then, is not the moment of imaginary plenitude, nor the moment of originary loss, but rather the moment of rebirth that comes through rebinding after the loss of plenitude. Indeed, Kristeva’s insistence on re-turning suggests that there is no originary moment of plenitude nor of castration or loss, but rather a constant movement of compensation for a recurrent loss. By emphasizing rebinding and rebirth, she underscores not the loss as cutting wound but rather the healing power of signification, always already inherent within loss. The flip-side of separation is reattachment. And rather than just focus on the separation or cut, Kristeva looks to that which allows us to rebind and reattach in order to create relations that sustain us. Both unbinding and binding are necessary for rebinding. Thus, by focusing on rebinding, Kristeva insists on the process of unbinding and binding, and the oscillation between them.

In lieu of an abstract, here is a brief excerpt of the content:Little Hans’s Little SisterKelly OliverIn an important sense, Freud’s metapsychology is built on the back of animal phobias, which he repeatedly trots out whenever he needs to substantiate his theories of the castration complex, anxiety, and even the foundational Oedipal complex.1 From a feminist perspective, it is fascinating that behind the animal phobias that define Freud’s work—Little Hans’s horse, the Rat Man, the Wolf Man—there are consistently fantasies of matricide, self-birth, and womb envy. Perhaps more significantly, there are sisters who both torment and titillate their brothers and thereby contribute to the onset of their phobias. Freud relegates to the background these terrible sisters and their abjected mothers to put the father at the center of animal phobia. In this essay, I will explore the mothers and sisters effaced by the father-animal and the ways in which they “bite back” in Freud’s own analysis of animal phobias.Eat or Be EatenIn the major cases of animal phobia that Freud analyzes and repeatedly invokes throughout his writings, from the “Analysis of Phobia in a Five-Year-Old Boy” (1909a) on, he identifies the threat posed by the animal with the father’s castration threats; the boy-child’s fear of being bitten by the animal in question is interpreted as a fear of castration. For example, in his analysis of Little Hans (the Five Year-Old Boy), Hans is afraid that a horse will bite him. Freud interprets his horse phobia as the substitution of the horse for his father, from whom he fears castration as punishment for his desires for his mother. Hans has ambivalent feelings toward his father, whom he both loves and fears, and “solves” the problem by splitting his father into the good father and the [End Page 9] bad father, the latter represented by the horse. The Rat Man and the Wolf Man both get their names from the animals that they fear will bite or devour them.The Rat Man is named for his famous story of an “Eastern” punishment whereby rats used their teeth to bore into the anus of the victim (Freud 1909b, 166). It doesn’t take long for Freud to discover that one of the imagined victims of this punishment is the patient’s father. The rest of the analysis turns around the patient’s relationship with his father, his father’s disapproval of his sexual relations, and the patient’s imagined punishment associated with sex. The Rat Man’s phobic fantasies involve being devoured by rats, or his father being devoured by rats as a sort of punishment levied for his father’s cruelty and the patient’s own sexual indiscretions. Later in his analysis, Freud links the rat phobia to anal eroticism associated with the patient’s childhood being plagued by worms. The rats come to represent many things, including money, disease, the penis, and children. The association between rats and children involves, among other things, the fact that as a child, the patient liked to bite people.The Wolf Man is also afraid of being devoured by animals. Although the fear of being devoured or bitten by wolves is central to Freud’s analysis, the patient reports other animal phobias—butterflies, caterpillars, swine—some involving similar fears. In the case of the Wolf Man, Freud interprets the dreaded wolf as a father substitute that threatens to devour the patient as he had seen a wolf devour seven little goats in a fairy-tale book that his sister used to torment him with as a child: “Whenever he caught sight of this picture [of a wolf] he began to scream like a lunatic that he was afraid of the wolf coming and eating him up. His sister, however, always succeeded in arranging so that he was obliged to see this picture, and was delighted at his terror” (Freud 1918, 16). Freud surmised that in the cases of the Wolf Man and of Little Hans, their fathers used to pretend to want to gobble them up (Freud 1925, 104). He likens this to another case of a young American whose father read him stories aboutan...

In The Poetic Axis of Ethics, Kelly Oliver argues that in Derrida's The Beast and the Sovereign Volume II, a line of poetry from Celan becomes the axis around which Derrida's analysis of world, death, and ethics revolves: ‘Die Welt ist fort, ich muß dich tragen’ [The world is far away, I must carry you]. Oliver maintains that the Celan fragment, which is repeated in nearly every session, is not only the axis around which Derrida binds the unlikely duo Robinson-Heidegger, but also it is a performance of a certain poetic world making that Derrida proposes as a counterbalance to sovereign world building.

Critically engaging the work of Immanuel Kant, Hannah Arendt, Martin Heidegger, and Jacques Derrida together with her own observations on contemporary politics, environmental degradation, and the pursuit of a just and sustainable world, Kelly Oliver lays the groundwork for a politics and ethics that embraces otherness without exploiting difference. Rooted firmly in human beings' relationship to the planet and to each other, Oliver shows peace is possible only if we maintain our ties to earth and world. Oliver begins with Immanuel Kant and his vision of politics grounded on earth as a finite surface shared by humans. She then incorporates Hannah Arendt's belief in plural worlds constituted through human relationships; Martin Heidegger's warning that alienation from the Earth endangers not only politics but also the very essence of being human; and Jacques Derrida's meditations on the singular worlds individuals, human and otherwise, create and how they inform the reality we inhabit. Each of these theorists, Oliver argues, resists the easy idealism of world citizenship and globalism, yet they all think about the earth against the globe to advance a grounded ethics. They contribute to a philosophy that avoids globalization's totalizing and homogenizing impulses and instead help build a framework for living within and among the world's rich biodiversity

As a linguist, Julia Kristeva has pioneered a revolutionary theory of the sign in its relation to social and political emancipation; as a practicing psychoanalyst, she has produced work on the nature of the human subject and sexuality, and on the "new maladies" of today's neurotic. _The Portable Kristeva_ is the only fully comprehensive compilation of Kristeva's key writings. The second edition includes added material from Kristeva's most important works of the past five years, including _The Sense and Non-Sense of Revolt_, _Intimate Revolt_, and _Hannah Arendt_. Editor Kelly Oliver has also added new material to the introduction, summarizing Kristeva's latest intellectual endeavors and updating the bibliography.

Challenging Heidegger’s thesis that animals are poor in world while humans are world-building, in The Beast and the Sovereign, Volume II, Jacques Derrida claims that each singular living being inhabits its own solitary world, its own desert island. There, he claims both, on the one hand, that animals share our world and may be world-building and, on the other, that we cannot be certain that human beings share a world or are world-building (at least not in Heidegger’s sense as set apart from animals). In this article, I trace the ethical implications of Derrida’s seemingly contradictory claims that we both share a world, and that each singular being, like an island, is a world unto itself.

Belying the rhetoric of “We’re all in this together,” and “COVID as the great equalizer,” the pandemic has brought into focus the “pre-existing conditions” of inequality—poverty, racism, lack of health care, lack of child care, women’s double burden, and the vulnerability of the elderly, among others. The coronavirus reveals gaping inequities in the length and quality of life caused by social and economic “pre-existing conditions.” It is the great unequalizer, the promise and ruse of “We’re all in this together.” The new normal for some, is the old normal for many others.

In this chapter, Kelly Oliver argues that while risk-benefit analysis may be necessary in a crisis situation such as the Covid-19 pandemic, that does not make it ethical. To the contrary, risk-benefit analysis is antithetical to ethics defined as responsibility to the singularity of each living being. Triage medicine, developed for the battlefield during wartime, relies on risk-benefit calculations. For example, calculations about which patient has the best chance for survival, or which patient has the best chance of quality of life or continued longevity. In the current pandemic, these calculations were based on population categories of health such as diabetes, coronary disease, obesity, and age, along with assessments of the individual patient’s condition. While such assessments may meet practical policy demands, ultimately, they are not ethical. In the end, she argues for what she calls “response ethics” as an alternative to utilitarian risk-benefit analysis.

Nietzsche has the reputation of being a virulent misogynist, so why are feminists interested in his philosophy? The essays in this volume provide answers to this question from a variety of feminist perspectives. The organization of the volume into two sets of essays, "Nietzsche's Use of Woman" and "Feminists' Use of Nietzsche," reflects the two general approaches taken to the issue of Nietzsche and woman. First, many debates have focused on how to interpret Nietzsche's remarks about women and femininity. Are all of Nietzsche's comments to be read literally, or is he being ironic, perhaps even parodying and subverting stereotypes about women? Second, is his philosophy useful to feminist theory? Can we separate his philosophy from his seemingly derogatory remarks about women? Can feminists use his criticisms of truth, objectivity, reason, and the autonomous subject to challenge the exclusion of women from the history of philosophy? Some view his critiques of dualism and essentialism as well as his perspectivism and social constructivism as adumbrating later feminist positions. Others find troubling his privileging of masculinity and paradigms of domination; they see Nietzsche's sexual dualism as countering otherwise transgressive themes. Contributors are Debra Bergoffen, Maudmarie Clark, Daniel Conway, Jacques Derrida, Jean Graybeal, Kathleen Higgins, Luce Irigaray, Sarah Kofman, Tamsin Lorraine, Kelly Oliver, David Owen, Marilyn Pearsall, Ofelia Schutte, Linda Singer, Lynne Tirrell, and Kathleen Wininger

The development of the emerging science of ecology influenced the later work of both Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty. Both use zoology, biology, and ecology intheir attempts to navigate between mechanism and vitalism, but their interpretations and use of the life sciences take them on divergent paths and lead them to radically different conclusions regarding the relationship between man and animal. This essay takes up the problematic of kinship with animals in Heidegger and Merleau-Ponty. Beyond the texts of these two thinkers are the more general stakes of the relationships between humans and animals and the question of whether or not animals can be our kin.

The work of the distinguished philosopher Sarah Kofman has, since her tragic death in 1994, become a focus for many scholars interested in contemporary French philosophy. The first critical collection on her thought to appear in English, Enigmas evaluates Kofman's most important contributions to philosophy, psychoanalytic theory, feminism, and literary theory. These insightful essays range from analyses of Kofman's first book, L'Enfance de l'art, to her last, L'Imposture de la beauté. This unique volume represents the major themes in Kofman's scholarship: literature and aesthetics; philosophy and metaphor; women, feminism, and psychoanalysis; and Jews and German nationalism. Selected essays explore and diagnose Kofman's personal struggles as they are reflected in her writing.

My short essay on Irigaray’s relation to Nietzsche could be divided into the beginnings of six arguments: First, Nietzsche continues to hold a special place in Irigaray’s thinking. Second, Amante Marine is an important part of Irigaray’s elemental philosophy. Third, Irigaray’s insistence on depth over surface in Amante Marine points to two different ways Nietzsche has been taken up in French Philosophy, which could be characterized as the difference between surface and depth. Fourth, Irigaray’s Amante Marine anticipates the most recent direction in Nietzsche scholarship, which focuses on plants and the earth. Fifth, following Nietzsche, Irigaray suggests that we can learn lessons about sharing the earth from plants. And, finally, Irigaray’s elemental philosophy resonates with my own conception of earth ethics as responsiveness to other earthlings and our environment, which I develop in my recent book Earth and World.

Feminist Time Against Nation Time offers a series of essays that explore the complex and oftentimes contradictory relationship between feminism and nationalism through a problematization of contemporality. The collection pursues the following questions: how do the specific temporalities of nationalism and war limit and delimit public spaces in which dissent might happen; and how might we account for the often contradictory and ambiguous relationship of "feminism" and "nationalism" through an exploration of the problem of time?