Notes on Yael Tamir’s “Death and the State”
Yael Tamir notes in “Death and the State” that death is the “contradiction of politics.” Even Hobbes, the most famous theorist of the “social contract” that allows us to live in relative safety outside of a “state of nature”, held that immediate danger justifies one in breaking the social contract. Though we have taken on obligations to one another in society, none of our obligations—special or otherwise—are so great that we must sacrifice our own lives to keep our end of the deal. The firefighter, then, does not have to burn down with the house to save the person trapped inside. Similarly, the citizenry may find themselves better off breaking the contract and returning to the state of nature, which is likely relatively safer than the great risk of death in defending the state.
The state
can make laws that require people to serve in the military, and fight in wars
of defense (and offense for that matter).
But these laws that force individuals to put their lives at risk can be
ineffective. Take for instance the first
Gulf War, when
Perhaps the Iraqi nationalism and the insurgency created from non-Iraqi pan-Arab/Islamic nationalists is a prime example of the nation endowing itself with religious content. Tamir’s example of Palestinian suicide bombers falls into the same category. Because of the promise of eternal bliss in the afterlife, death in war becomes a desirable end. The most successful route to creating a nation of people ready to die for the nation is to have the people really convinced that what they are doing is for God, and that God is on their side.
While the
insurgency in
When a liberal nation has a need for defense, convincing people to risk their lives to defend the state becomes a major challenge. Any reward for dying is worthless to a dead person. As mentioned before, breaking the social contract might occur more commonly than not, leaving too few people to make the ultimate sacrifice for the continued existence of their state, and even though not everyone who fights will die, one can be almost positive about certain positions (the front lines of Normandy, for example). In order to create a military with enough people ready to die for the state, liberal states often turn to nationalism—a technique that may require the state “to cultivate an identity inconsistent with their [liberal] political ethos.”
Epicurus argued that death is the final end of sensation, and therefore, there is nothing to fear in death. In death one no longer exists, and to the dead it is as if one never did. Tamir’s argues and human experience suggests, however, that getting over the fear of death is not as easy as recognizing the conclusion that to do so is illogical. “We may still be anxious about the implications of the future state of affairs for our present life.” More than simply dying, human beings fear pain. We also fear a future in which we are forgotten, the idea that we may have lived a life without meaning, and a time when our loved ones are in danger because of our absence.
The liberal state can rely on a nationalist discourse to quell these fears when soldiers are needed. The state can “shift its self-image” to create a sense of national purpose in the continuation of the state beyond the body-state metaphor, while maintaining a liberal, democratic perspective.
The state can begin its effort by instilling in the nation that the military service, considering that one survives it, is rewarding. The reason that many men and women join the armed forces during peacetime—in countries where they are not obligated to do so—is that it is an almost guaranteed employment, and the skills one learns during service that are valuable to employers in the private sector. The fraternity of service also allows former soldiers opportunities for advancement from other, older former soldiers who have a loyalty to those who followed them as well as those who came before. Additionally, military service is seen as heroic by the nation at large—one benefit of this is that military personal become objects of sexual desire. These rewards, Tamir writes, become worth the calculated risk.
But just as serving can be financially and
personally rewarded, not serving can
be criminally and, more importantly, socially punished. In the
The fear of suffering en route to death is countered by the idea in the national discourse that death is glorious, immediate, easy, and like the beginnings of a drifting off into sleep. Tamir cites examples of this in literatures and songs, contrasted with the truth—that death in war is often not peaceful and instantaneous but rather ugly, painful, and slow. This glorified death in the cultural and artistic works of a state is also the bridge to the promise that one will not be forgotten, which is itself a bridge to the important belief that one’s life had meaning.
When soldiers face death, they are reminded
by the memorials and monuments to those soldiers before them that they will
live forever as an ideal in the minds of their fellow citizens who continue to
exist because of their sacrifice, and that their lives, though shorter than
they would have been otherwise had a more profound meaning than the lives of
those who live long but did not take up arms in defense of their nation and
state.