Chapter 5: Mimetic Theology

Peaceful society depends on the integrity of prohibitions and sacrificial rituals which, in turn, gain legitimacy from the prestige of the original god. That is to say, for the victimage mechanism to produce genuine peace and lasting cultural practices which can reintroduce peace, its true mechanism must remain hidden. The scapegoat must not be recognized as innocent and the sacrifice as unjust for then, the prestigious god would be exposed as merely an arbitrary victim. Certainly, the prestige of the god could wane over time and, with it, the guards against mimetic contagion. Society would then descend into chaos before reproducing the victimage mechanism again, introducing a new host of myths.

For most of our history, humanity operated on this cyclical course. Yet, the Christian revelation, through the death of Christ, exposed the injustice of scapegoating and in Girard’s own words, “forced us to adopt [a linear time that] makes the eternal return of the gods impossible, and thus also any reconciliation on the head of innocent victims.”[1] This Christian concern for the victim already appears in the Old Testament stories of Job, Joseph, Abel, etc. as the victim is often portrayed as innocent, but it only takes its full form in the crucifixion. For Girard, Christ’s death revealed the scapegoat as innocent and the collective as guilty. The crucifixion exposed the victimage mechanism and the violent, unjust, and untruthful foundations of cultural institutions. Conversely, it is Christ’s ability to expose this legacy of injustice that Girard sees as evidence of divinity: the one true God who reveals the falsity of all other gods and myths.

Christian revelation, for Girard, becomes the inflection point of human history. Slowly but surely, humanity loses its ability to create myths out of the deified scapegoat and, with it, the legitimacy of prohibitions – now considered oppressive – and the efficacy of sacrifice – now considered cruel. The Christian concern for the victim is both a truth and justice seeking force that would ultimately be responsible for among others: the scientific revolution, the enlightenment, and the egalitarian movements of modernity. It even has some explanatory power over contemporary phenomena such as victimhood culture which, at its extremes, puzzlingly sees groups compete to be depicted as the most victimized in society.

But, let us not forget, truth and justice are incompatible with worldly peace. Four continued transformations brought about by the Christian revelation are responsible for an increase in internal mediation and, thus, mimetic rivalries. First, equality – the removal of prohibitions, such as gender roles – decreases differentiation. Second, technological developments, such as air travel and the internet, increase exposure. Third, the new Christian standard of justice limits the models we wish to imitate in history, as we now find their practices unjust. This restricts the possibilities for external mediation and pushes individuals into internal mediation with “unproblematic” contemporaries. Lastly, with the fall of myths and deities that kept us humble, humanity has been abusing its newfound license for pride. We more readily and willingly attribute metaphysical autonomy to human peers which only intensifies mimetic rivalries.

Not only do we have an increase in mimetic rivalries, but also a decrease in the resources to deal with them. It is harder to found peace-bringing institutions because sacrificial scapegoating, increasingly denounced for its injustice, no longer produces the essential cathartic release. Cultural institutions have had to react to the Christian revelation and hide their sacrificial nature through nuance, abstraction, rationality, and, indeed, more justice. But it is because and not despite their increased justice that they are impotent in producing peace or authority. Most worryingly, the more an institution directly deals with resolving violence, the more it must rely on sacrifice, the more it has lost its efficacy due to the Christian revelation. [2] Violence becomes uncontrollable and unresolvable.

I have now traced the key historical developments from hominization to modernity: the increased capacity for acquisitive mimesis, the development of prohibitory and sacrificial institutions, and the revelatory force of Christianity. Before we explore the specific characteristics of modernity that render it eschatological – namely its capacity for violence, love and innovation – how plausible is this philosophy of history?

One may object to Girard’s anthropological claims: violence is not caused by mimetic contagion but material scarcity, therefore, peace does not come from sacrificial catharsis but rather from rational negotiations and the alignment of incentives. As I will soon argue, the truth probably lies in between two extremes. But even if Girard only highlights part of the causal nexus of violence and its resolution, the mere insightfulness of his observations and terrifying conclusions of his arguments more than warrant our further engagement.

One may also object to Girard’s claims about the importance of Christianity. A first response would be that one need not believe in the literal divinity of Christ to believe in the important role that Christianity plays in history. Second, one need not even believe in this weaker claim. As long as one subscribes to Girard’s anthropological conclusions about the unjust and deceitful foundations of peace-bringing institutions, any truth-or-justice-seeking force one identifies within history[3] can act as a valid substitute to the role Girard needs Christianity to play in his history. For example, if one believes that there is a strong, teleological force within history to seek truth, then that would be adequate in leading us to Girard’s apocalyptic conclusions which we will now explore.

5.1 Violence in modernity

The first defining characteristic of modernity is its unprecedented actuality, potential, and constancy of violence. What must have seemed an anachronistic claim in the introduction of the project should now flow naturally: the Christian revelation removed the restraints of violence – prohibitions – while making impotent the only tool for resolution – sacrificial ritual.

First, the collapse of prohibitions and rituals across social institutions has led to an immense actuality of violence. Mimetic rivalries now form at a dizzying scale, creating unparalleled societal tensions. Unfortunately, sacrificial scapegoating is still the only method we know how to resolve such tensions. We haven’t given up scapegoating as it becomes less effective but have merely increased the dosage to maintain the same effect. Girard would point to the atrocities of scapegoating in the totalitarian regimes of the twentieth century as evidence of this fact:

Entire categories of humans are distinguished (the Jews, the aristocrats, the bourgeois, the unfaithful, the faithful…) and we are told that utopia depends on the necessary condition of the elimination of the guilty categories. As the power of the mechanism breaks down, sacrifices at a larger and larger scale must persist to achieve the same calming effect. Before we could bring peace by sacrificing a goat or a few men, but now we must kill an entire race, religion, class — the eradication needs to be total.[4]

Second, the collapse of prohibitions and rituals in war specifically, the institution which regulates violence between nations, creates the potential for violence. Without prohibitions in war, violence is uncontrollable and will escalate to apocalyptic proportions.

The contemporary fallacy, Girard points out, is to believe that war can be controlled by rational political negotiations. As I’ve articulated many times already, rationality has limited sovereignty over mimetic desire: only when the latter is weak and not yet dominated by metaphysical desire. But when metaphysical ambitions do take over, Girard comments, “passions do indeed rule the world”[5] and rationality merely serves the ends set by mimesis. Political rationality can only limit strategic wars motivated by a physical desire of the nation state to gain some utility. But in wars of extermination, motivated by a metaphysical desire to exact violence on the enemy, politics serves the ends of war and has no domain over it. In our age of internal mediation, nations and national identities increasingly enter into mimetic rivalries with each other.[6] It is increasingly this latter type of war – a war fought not for material resources but prestige – that we should expect.

So how have wars been deescalated in the past if not primarily through the steward of reason? Girard’s reductive explanation should, at this point, come with no shock: just as war is escalated by mimesis, so is it deescalated by it.[7] The only difference is the availability of cultural and technological frictions which determines whether escalatory or de-escalatory actions are imitated between enemies. Technological frictions – distance, terrain, communication, etc. – are all the spatio-temporal barriers preventing the use of maximum force in a single instance. Cultural frictions – the prohibitions within war such as an honor code, political consequences, burial rites[8], etc. – are all the social-cultural barriers preventing the use of maximum force in a single instance. In situations where there are abundant technological and cultural frictions – I take weeks to maneuver my troops as you do yours, I provide a burial truce for you as you do me, etc. – war could deescalate to mere armed observation. Metaphysical passions cool down. Opportunities for peace negotiations occur. But Girard sees in Napoleon’s ability to conscript universally and arrange every aspect of society in service of the military apparatus evidence that technological and cultural frictions were beginning to disappear. Today, nuclear weapons have conquered all technological frictions, enabling us to unleash everything in one instance, and nothing but a fragile International Law of War restricts our actions culturally. The frictions that checked war are all but gone, and even a local war could quickly escalate into nuclear apocalypse.[9]

Third, without sacrificial scapegoating to end war, violence is constant. Whatever peace there may be is simply a suspended state of potential violence. That is to say, without placing ultimate blame on a small group of individuals, the losing side will never accept the state of peace. They will either seek to build up their strength or attack subversively from their defensive position. For the former, Girard presents the example of Germany’s nationalistic response to the Treaty of Versailles. For the latter, Girard presents the example of terrorism. Society is infected with unpredictable outbursts of violence and whatever peace exists is merely a time of suspended violence directed at procuring the strength needed to exact greater vengeance.[10] Either way, violence becomes constant even when invisible.

To many, modernity represents an era of unprecedented peace. Girard does not disagree. But the fact that we are living in a long period of peace is not incompatible with the idea that apocalyptic violence is around the corner. First, the constancy of violence, Girard reminds us, “obliges us to see history on a larger scale and as involving very long alternations.”[11] Without sacrificial resolution, peace is interpreted as merely a trough between two peaks of violence. Second, let us not forget, our peaceful trough is preceded by a peak in the actuality of violence – the two world wars – with more causalities than ever before. And given that war has lost all of its breaks, third, the potential for violence is limitless. Perhaps our trough will be followed by an apocalyptic peak which no institution can contain.

Writing this project in a year that has seen a heated trade war and a global pandemic – both threatening political stability and both being used for political scapegoating – it does not strain one’s imagination to take Girard’s apocalyptic intuition seriously. This is especially so, considering his predictions on both matters more than a decade ago:

A conflict between the United States and China will follow: everything is in place, though it will not necessarily occur on the military level at first … Trade can transform very quickly into war, and today, since traditional war is no longer available … trade can become the trend to extremes. From this point of view, we can reasonably fear a major clash between China and the United States in coming decades.[12]

[The H5N1 pandemic] could cause hundreds of thousands of deaths in a few days, and is a phenomenon typical of the undifferentiation now coursing across the planet … Pandemics tell us something about human relations.[13]

5.2 Love in Modernity

But we must remember that the removal of prohibitions and sacrificial rituals is, at its core, a truth-and-justice-seeking force. Thus, the second defining characteristic of modernity is its actuality and potential for love.

Love is, as defined by Girard, being “identified with others. This is Christian love, and it exists in our world. It is even very active. It saves many people, works in hospitals, and even operates in some forms of research. Without this love, the world would have exploded long ago.”[14] The abolishment of slavery, animal welfare, human rights, etc – the Christian concern for the victim specifically, and love more generally, has permeated society.

Furthermore, there is even a greater potential for love than what is already actualized. This is because a prerequisite of identifying with the other is undifferentiation, which the removal of social prohibitions – the caste system, arbitrary gender norms, etc. – has greatly accelerated. Of course, this does not change the fact that undifferentiation is also a precondition for and accelerator of violence. It only goes to show the complexity of the problem at hand.

5.3 Innovation in Modernity

The third defining characteristic of modernity for Girard is our unprecedented ability to innovate: “freed of sacrificial constraints, the human mind invented science, technology and all the best and worst of culture. Our civilization is the most creative and powerful ever known.”[15] Girard suggests three ways that the removal of prohibitions and sacrificial rituals have driven innovation. The first two develop the prerequisite perspective for innovation while the third furnishes us with motivational forces.

By perspective I refer not to specific pieces of knowledge required for innovation but rather one’s general outlook and interpretation of the world. Perspective, defined in this sense, is paramount as a prerequisite for innovation. Since, we must imagine how specific interpretations of the world — for example, belief in an unstoppable degeneracy of history, or the sanctity and inviolability of nature — would remove the possibility of innovation altogether. For Girard, the perspective necessary for innovation is “a minimal respect for the past, and a mastery of its achievements.”[16] The idea here is this: one must have enough reverence, or at least curiosity, for the past and one’s contemporaries to fully understand the inner causal workings of their achievements. The positive perspective for innovation is to see the world as worthy of engagement and capable of being understood. But one must not revere the past nor others to the point where these accomplishments seem given or final. The negative, and often overlooked, perspective for innovation is to see the world as constructed, malleable, and incomplete. Both too much and too little reverence are fatal to innovation. In the case of too much reverence, a lack of the negative perspective, the world may seem worthy and intelligible but also given as is. Existing accomplishments appear final, and unalterable. Think of a cult fanatic who can recite their leader’s revelations from heart but can’t conceive of it ever being improved. In the case of too little reverence, a lack of the positive perspective, the world may appear malleable but one does not have reason to engage with it or the knowledge to do so. Think of a child watching mechanics assemble a car. Instead, a delicate balance of reverence is needed to understand the world but not see it as final, a balance the Christian revelation has indirectly brought about.

First, prohibitions and sacrificial rituals, as previously mentioned, are dictated in myths. Their removal, alongside a broader rejection of myth, changes the connotations of innovation from negative to positive. Its connotation was negative because, Girard elaborates, innovation implied a deviation from the sacred, albeit static and rigid, ideals provided by myth. It was “practically synonymous with heresy."[17] The escape from myth, therefore, frees us from deifying the achievements of the past and instead permits us to hold an attitude of “minimal respect.” Our negative perspectives are made possible with the rejection of myth.

Second, the removal of prohibitions increased the amount of internal mediation in society. In discussions on innovation, we often dismiss the utility of imitation after recalling its unintentional and unconscious manifestations such as groupthink. But much of what we consider "learning", such as that between master and apprentice, inevitably involve a great deal of internal mediation. One must first learn a craft or catch up to one's competitors through imitation before one is even at the vantage point to innovate. Furthermore, "in a truly innovative process, it is often so continuous with imitation that its presence can be discovered only after the fact, through a process of abstraction."[18] Girard elaborates, innovators are always surprised when their imitators suddenly innovate in their own right – America to the Europeans, Germans to the British, and now China to America. What lies behind this surprise is a false dichotomy between innovation and imitation. In practice, no act of innovation can be entirely done from a vacuum and thus must involve some degree of imitation, and no imitation can be adopted without being adapted and thus must involve some degree of innovation. The increase in internal mediation accelerates our “mastery of [humanity’s] achievements.”[19] Our positive perspectives are accelerated through internal mediation.

Third, an increase in both object competition and mimetic rivalries has motivated modern innovation. This is true in business as it is in science or art. Girard observes: "the driving force behind their constant innovation is far from utopian. In a vigorous economy, it is a matter of survival, pure and simple."[20] In object competition, we innovate to secure the survival of our physical selves or enterprises. In mimetic rivalries, we innovate to secure the survival of our spiritual selves and our sense of being. Both are powerful engines of progress.

To be sure, Girard holds a much more ambivalent attitude towards innovation than to love or violence, attributing to it both the “best and worst”[21] of modern cultural developments. He is certainly critical of the degree to which we idolize innovation, calling it an “unhealthy obsession.” [22] Specific avenues of innovation, such as nuclear weaponry, are also causes for concern. On the other hand, he credits innovation with all the vibrancy and creativity of modern society. And just as innovation has handed terrifying instruments into the hands of violence, it has also developed effective means to actualize love. At the very least, we can say that innovation has instrumental value in actualizing love. Any viable solution to modernity’s ills should tread carefully, then, to preserve some if not most of our innovative capacities.

Footnotes

[1] Girard, Battling, 103.

[2] In the graph of concentric circles, the closer you get to the inner circle the more it directly deals in resolve violence and the most it has been rendered ineffective by the Christian revelation.

[3] An example of such a force could be the truth seeking drive detailed by Horkheimer and Adorno in Adorno, Horkheimer, Enlightenment.

[4] Girard, Things, 129.

[5] Girard, Battling, 9.

[6] For a discussion of how entire nation states can behave like singular egos that enter into mimetic rivalries with each other see Girard, Battling, 42. and Oughourlian, Psychopolitics, 35.

[7] For the escalatory and de-escalatory role of reciprocal action see Girard, Battling, 13.

[8] A canonical example of this is the end of the Iliad when Achilles grants the Trojans a truce for the burial of Hector. Even though this specific war still ended up escalating the Girardian thinking must be that war was previously populated with these types of rituals that offered a mechanism for de-escalation.

[9] For an example of how this might happen see Allison, Thucydides.

[10] But how would Girard respond to the resolution of WWII? Surely, the Germans aren’t secretly mustering their forces and plotting vengeance. One response could be that WWII might have been one of the last events where the world is able to unanimously come to recognize the guilt of a single party: a handful of bad Germans. It is only because we attributed unanimous and ultimate blame, an act that is increasingly hard to do, that we now enjoy true peace.

[11] Girard, Battling, 17.

[12] Girard, Battling, 60.

[13] Girard, Battling, 24.

[14] Girard, Battling, 131.

[15] Girard, Battling, XIV.

[16] Girard, Innovation, 19.

[17] Girard, Innovation, 7.

[18] Girard, Innovation, 18.

[19] Girard, Innovation, 19.

[20] Girard, Innovation, 13.

[21] Girard, Battling, XIV.

[22] Girard, Battling, XI.