Kris Sealey

ABSTRACT Necropolitical arrangements of bifurcations delineate those ontological antagonisms that code Blackness as ontological lack (as non-position). In this article, I attempt to think about this evacuation of being in terms of the necropolitical’s fleshy excess, as what Alexander Weheliye’s work names “habeus viscus.” In so doing, I explore the implications, for our understanding of the “repressed proximities” of which the necropolitical consists, of arrangements that always-already include entanglements with their fleshy excess. In other words, if the nonposition of the excluded is always positioned within, then living in/against the death-logics of necropolitics is always happening from that “nonposition within.” Hence, a reading of Achille Mbembe’s account of necropolitics must reckon with what Katherine McKittrick names “the creative consequences of the plot and the plantation,” with the implications of the inextricable proximal entanglements between the killing of life and the living that persists, despite. This article focuses on this “living despite.” Through a constellation of thinkers like Katherine McKittrick, Alexander Weheliye, and Zakiyyah Iman Jackson (to name a few), it aims to show that there are, perhaps, other futures that are already “now,” shattering what Édouard Glissant refers to as the “stone of time,” shattering (necropolitical) history as destiny.

In her 2019 book, The Black Shoals, Tiffany Lethabo King warns that “settler colonial discourse structures the ways that people think about and simultaneously forget... that Black and Native death are intimately connected in the Western Hemisphere” (2019, xiii). This warning is similar in spirit to Jody Byrd’s call to decenter “the vertical interactions of colonizer and colonized” and recenter “the horizontal struggles among people with competing claims to historical oppressions” (2011, xxxiv). What happens to the lifeways of creolization when brought under the scrutiny of such analyses? To ask this question differently, how might creolization, as a theory of Afro-diasporic experiences shaped in histories of chattel slavery, displacement and migration, working against structures of anti-blackness, approach a vigilance for what Lorraine Le Camp (1998) names the “terranullism” —a Doctrine of Discovery world-orientation that reads land to be colonized as either vacant or all but vacated of civilized human communities—that grounds much of settler colonial discourse?

Using Octavia Butler’s Kindred as both ground and frame, this paper develops a notion of mangrove time as a way to think through how blackness is lived in the violent temporality of anti-blackness. Specifically, I want to suggest that, through the frame of mangrove time, an errant relationship between lived blackness and its black past inserts temporal possibility in and beyond the inertia of white supremacy’s violently anti-black temporality. In other words, contrary to Fanon’s proclamation that only black abjection is to be found in a return to the past of lived blackness, I show that, out of a mangroved conception of temporality, linkages to a black past becomes more than the ontological weight at the core of Fanon’s notion of a historico-racial schema. In foregrounding his own linkage to the past, Fanon’s historico-racial schema determines the past as fixed under the weight of an anti-black time. However, mangrove time recalls what is perhaps hastily forgotten under this schema, which is that, even as lived blackness arrives on the scene of an anti-black imaginary “too late”, it is still able to ‘time travel’ – to zigzag between present and past in a way that rescues lived blackness from the structural determination of its past. As mangroved, this temporality is still one of pain, amputation and fragmentation. But it is also one that opens up this temporality to “imaginative variability”.

This article presents Édouard Glissant's account of a composite community as an articulation of Frantz Fanon's alternative, de-colonial conception of the nation. It shows that, subsequent to Fanon's critique of the xenophobia and racism of a narrow nationalism, we are left with a conception of a national consciousness that registers with what Glissant names, in Poetics of Relation, a composite community in relation. Both accounts ground community in a foundation of difference, process and dynamism, all of which is carried into a collective identity, without the reductive homogenizing practices of most nation-building endeavors. As such, the article argues that Glissant's work is positioned to underscore what, in Fanon's understanding of national culture, is meant to protect the living dynamism of a people from a chauvinistic ultra-nationalism. Similarly, the work of The Wretched of the Earth can be used to take Glissant's alternative political ontology into the arena of thinking the nation otherwise.

In her anchor-piece on historicizing the canon, Li-Hsiang Lisa Rosenlee appeals to professional philosophers to develop several tools that can be implemented in historicizing the canon. Amy Donahue, David H. Kim, Nelson Maldonado-Torres, and Kris Sealey tessellate different aspects of this call. Donahue augments Rosenlee’s argument by braiding together Dharmakīrti’s “anyāpoha” theory and Charles Mills’ ruminations about “white ignorance”; Kim explores some of the nuances of Rosenlee’s account for a post-Eurocentric philosophy; Maldonado-Torres ruminates about the larger social context in which thinking can be decolonized; and Sealey uses the work of Kristie Dotson to acknowledge the possibility of multiple canons. In putting on the table a number of questions, concepts, and approaches to canon-building, the symposium aims to contribute to what is by now a large array of similar reflections and engagements in different parts of the world.

In what follows I offer three theoretical frameworks out of which we might think through coalition building for the sake of decolonization. My claim is that, through these three frameworks, we can be attentive to the ways we, ourselves are shaped by coloniality as we collectively work to resist it. The first framework is Maria Lugones's account of playful world‐travel. The second concerns the practice of unsuturing, developed George Yancy. And the third is Édouard Glissant's notion of opacity (as that conception pertains to his account of errantry). In bringing these together, I foreground opacity as the cornerstone of an encounter between self and Other, as that encounter figures both in Lugones's account of world traveling, and in Glissant's account of errantry. I use George Yancy's conception of unsuturing to show that it is more productive to think of world‐travel's play as coupled with unsuturing's pain, rather than to think of these comportments as either mutually exclusive or diametrically opposed. Lugones, Glissant, and Yancy show that, out of this pain‐play comportment, our collective commitments to decolonization might result in more effective coalitions against the workings of colonial power, so as to gesture toward the possibility of alternative (decolonial) worlds.

This article critiques Homi Bhabha's proposal that mimicry, as a transgressive performance of ambivalence, disrupts the colonial violence of the stereotype, and as such, generates emancipatory conditions for postcolonial subjects. I am critical of this naming of mimicry as enabling a possible liberation from colonial violence not only because it fails to address the loss of belonging that significantly marks the experience of being so violated, but also because it seems to intensify this loss in the hybridity and fragmentation that it celebrates. Through the work of María Lugones and Mariana Ortega, I propose a reimagined sense of Sartrean bad faith as one that corrects for this failure. This account of bad faith—as subversive, anticolonial practice—legitimizes my longing for a stability made impossible by the violent ambivalence that pervades both the colonial and postcolonial condition. Lugones's accounts of multiplicity and ontological plurality, as well as Ortega's conception of hometactics, help me argue that this reimagined conception of bad faith ought to be considered productive when it comes to existential strategies that pursue the possibility of free black life.

This essay argues for a reading of Levinas’ work which prioritizes the significance of the il y a over the personal Other. I buttress this reading by using the well-documented intersections between Levinas’ work and that of Maurice Blanchot. Said otherwise, I argue that Levinas’ relationship with Blanchot (a relationship that is very much across the notion of the il y a) calls scholars of the Levinasian corpus to place the conception of impersonal existence to the forefront. To do so is to take seriously the complex relationship between Levinas’ explicitly ethical account of the face, and his phenomenological account of impersonal existence. To approach Levinas in this way (by way of his relationship with Blanchot) is to not only recognize that the ethical import of the face lies in its being without determination or nomenclature, but it is to also fully acknowledge the underlying horror of a Levinasian rendition of the ethical encounter

My reading of Tuvel’s defense of transracialism focuses on her critiques of three main objections to a transracial identity. Tuvel attempts to show how her defense of transracialism stands in the face of these objections. However, I argue that her position is not sufficiently immune to them. In other words, my response delineates the ways in which all three objections remain, and effectively undermine her argument in favor of transracial identities. Additionally, through the question of white allyship, I ask about the moral and political consequences of choosing to identify as transracial. I show that, without a clear account of what an existential choice of racial transitioning implies for allyship across race, Tuvel does not sufficiently establish the differences between the historical constitutions of racialized and sexualized identities. In failing to engage with these moral/political implications, Tuvel’s position does not address the complex relationship between individual agency and collective accountability.

I present `disruption' as what is most fundamental to Levinas' account of transcendence. I argue that one should read his treatment of the Other as a modulation of transcendence, and prioritize the structures of positionality and solitude as the conditions that make transcendence possible. Hence, Being is transcended insofar as these structures have `always already' articulated the rupturing of the subject, which, for Levinas, constitutes her transcending. Included in my argument is a critique of reading Levinas' project as undermining the fundamentally solitary nature of human existence because of his focus on alterity. Such a reading reduces Levinas' account of alterity, instead of maintaining its signification as that which is `never there.' It is the solitary existent who is vulnerable before an `already gone by' alterity, such that her subjectivity is radically disrupted. For Levinas, an encounter with alterity is the agony of finding no one, or having nowhere, from which I can be granted wholeness or justification. It follows that transcendence is fundamentally concretized in a positioned solitude, and not in some inter-subjective space