Ultimately, Zizek thinks there should be less democracy and more authoritarianism and censorship. As when he commends Venezuela’s Chavez for banning certain US programs from his nation’s airwaves because these shows were “morally problematic.” For Zizek thinks 99% of people are idiots, and thus they need help and guidance from government officials on what to watch and what to do. Yes, if you cornered Zizek on this he’d have all sorts of obfuscations and amendments to this, but basically he thinks individual rights should be curtailed in order to get things done more efficiently and that mass violence and state censorship is the only real way to introduce this new structure. He believes that the task today is to find a new mode of the dictatorship of the proletariat. But Zizek, in classic newspeak, uses the friendlier terms radical and emancipatory, as opposed to authoritarianism and state control.
According to Z, all violence against the state is “defensive,” since the fact of the state’s existence is inherently an act of violence against the people. So, violence against the state is always justified. This seems to guarantee continual conflict, since any successful revolution will lead to the installment of a new power order. Taking Zizek at his work, violence would then also be justified against any regime a revolution installs (unless, I suppose, he’s holding out hope for the first stateless society). At what point does this supposedly defensive violence become offensive?
Often, this is Zizek’s mode: He’ll say something provocative, and then when you wait for the philosophical insight that justifies this provocative position, he’ll instead bury you in a spastic riff of a dozen movies or Stalinist daydreams that sort of just congregate and hang out around his inflammatory statement. He seems to think that because the pronouncement is inflammatory and guaranteed to rile up the status quo, it doesn’t need justifying.
And since capitalism is currently the economic mode that exists worldwide, everything that happens on the planet can be blamed on it. The environmental catastrophe we’re undoubtedly headed for is purely a capitalist problem for Zizek. And to a large extent he’s probably right. But it’s not as if the gulags and five-year plans of the USSR didn’t also negatively impact the environment (though granted it’s hard to care about the environment at all when you’re starving or scared to death of the State). But even here he exempts Stalin and the USSR: “That is to say, whence comes the Stalinist drive-to-expand, the incessant push to increase productivity?.... It comes not from some general will-to-power or will-to-technological domination, but from the inherent structure of capitalist reproduction which can survive only through its incessant expansion….” Well, well. So basically, it’s Capitalism’s fault that Stalin the archCommunist exploited the USSR’s workers. This type of argument should be beneath Zizek.
The book has an interesting discussion on Kant’s idea that a benevolent republic does not have to be a nation of angels. A good organization of the state is within man’s control, one that plays off the vices of its members so that they counter and negate each other. Such a state could lead to man being a good citizen, even if he is not a morally good person. “Given a multitude of rational beings requiring universal laws for their preservation, but each of whom is secretly inclined to exempt himself from them, to establish a constitution in such a way that although their private intentions conflict, they check each other, with the result that their public conduct is the same as if they had no such intentions.”
Somehow, in a way that’s not clarified, from this Zizek concludes that the “inevitable obverse” of the old-school liberal motto, “private vices, common good,” is “private goods, common disaster.”
And then there is this monstrous (yet clownish) lament, a point in which Zizek’s macho yearning for violence comes to the fore: “Since great public causes can no longer be mobilized, since our hegemonic ideology calls on us to enjoy life and to fulfill ourselves, it is difficult for the majority of humans to overcome their revulsion at torturing and killing other human beings.”
When you read stuff like this, it’s hard not to rejoice in the bourgeois capitalist system of individualism, tolerance, and liberalism (in spite of its ongoing exploitation of workers, the growing income inequality, and the domination of nearly all facets of life by Capital), against Zizek’s daydreams of mass violence (“great public causes”), the installation of a class-based dictatorship, and his absurd apologies for Stalin, who is responsible for the senseless murder and torture of millions. It’s a good thing not being forced to work in a labor camp for the good of the community, it’s good not to be tortured because there are suspicions that my thoughts don’t conform to the thoughts of the government or to the proletariat masses, it’s nice to enjoy life. But enjoying life is a sin for Zizek; no one should enjoy existence. But then, what is the end to which his communist daydreams aspire?
Not totally germane, but I relished discovering (not from Zizek of course) that Stalin was only 5’4” tall and that Truman would refer to him as “that little squirt.” For Zizek, Stalin will always be Big Daddy. He will always be broad-shouldered, holding a scythe against a majestic sunset with happy members of the working class massed around him.
All of the above does not take away from the fact that Zizek has some great critiques of late capitalism. It’s the lawlessness, the constant drive for more in Capitalism that disturbs Zizek. Like in the Congo, Zizek points out that the warlords (who ruthlessly exploit the people) have ties to foreign corporations. It works out for everyone (i.e., for everyone who matters): corporations don’t have to deal with taxes and laws, and the warlords get rich. Zizek points out that we always read about “ethnic passions” exploding in places like the Congo, but it is clear that is global capitalism at its purest, according to Zizek: “The irony is that many of these minerals are used in high-tech products such as laptops and cellphones—in short: forget about the savage behavior of the local populations, just remove the foreign high-tech companies from the equation and the whole edifice of ethnic warfare fuelled by old passions falls apart.”
And I think Zizek is dead on to note how class tension is ignored or “obfuscated” by politicians and the media. I myself notice this often when reading global/national news. At every chance, any conflict will be discussed in sectarian, ethnic, religious terms, and only when there’s no choice will the (usually exploitative and/or imperialist) economics behind these conflicts be discussed.
Or when he compares countries’ investments into the US to the tithes paid to Rome in antiquity. “The US is ‘trusted’ as the safe and stable center, so that all others ... invest their surplus profits in the US. Since this ‘trust’ is primarily ideological and military, not economic, the problem for the US is how to justify its imperial role—it requires a permanent state of war....”
Or when he insightfully discusses the 2009 talks in Copenhagen concerning global warming: “Political elites serve capital, they are unable and/or unwilling to control and regulate capital even when the very survival of the human race is at stake.” He contrasts this with the immediate trans-national, nonpartisan unity that came about when saving the banks, in which all grudges were forgotten to save us from the “real” catastrophe, the one that impacts global banking.
Zizek gets a little personal in this interesting passage: “Radicals invoke the need for revolutionary change as a kind of superstitious token that will achieve its opposite—that will prevent the change from really occurring. If a revolution is taking place, it should occur at a safe distance…so that, while my heart is warmed when I think about the events far away, I can go on promoting my academic career.” One wonders how many self-professed radicals are the same.
As is usual with theorists, Zizek’s literary tastes are impossible to take seriously. In spite of his intellectual snobbery, he is something of a vulgarian when it comes to literature: Zizek is only concerned with plot and the author’s ideas, and these only insofar as they set up situations that he can employ his Hegelian/Lacanian snake oil to. At times, I could barely tolerate his cretinous literary opinions. I realize Zizek is very intelligent and he truly is a kind of freakish Chopin of philosophy and theory, but he’s adrift when it comes to literary stuff, as when he pronounces that Dauphne du Marier, the “master of suspense,” is superior to (the, of course, upper class) Virginia Woolf. Perhaps some class resentment is muddling his outlook. But really he knows he’s being titillating, he knows he’s being a bad boy for saying such things, and he knows he’s dead wrong. Given how he approaches literature, it is not surprising that his mind is unable to handle the wavering, nuanced, mercurial writing in Mrs. Dalloway, To the Lighthouse, and The Waves. These are great works of art that foil interpretation and ideology. Zizek reads novels like a vampire sucking out ideology like blood.
I think what Zizek seeks aesthetically is an Ayn Rand, but one for Communists. (And of course, in Zizek’s perfect world, everyone’s writings would be beneficial for worker solidarity and community morale.)
It should not surprise us, then, that Z states, “It should not surprise us, then, to discover ideology at its purest in what may appear to be products of Hollywood at its most innocent: the big blockbuster cartoons.”
This is why Zizek continues to go back to Hollywood instead of literature (aside from his attempts to see Communist yearning throughout Kafka’s stories; theorists cannot leave Kafka alone; but he is ours, not theirs). After the above quote, Z launches into a rigorous theoretical analysis of Kung Fu Panda. Truly, Zizek could go deep-sea scuba diving and see Lacanian significations among the fish. I don’t really care, as long he stays away from great works of fiction.
Zizek managed to scrounge up one writer (even if only a playwright) to support his aesthetic views. He approvingly quotes the following quote from an Austrian playwright:
“Characters on stage should be flat, like clothes in a fashion show: what you get should be no more than what you see.”
This reminded me of James Wood’s takedown of Tom Wolfe, who, like Zizek, would also like all characters to wear their hearts on their sleeves. Here's James Wood:
“Tom Wolfe’s novels are placards of simplicity. His characters are capable of experiencing only one feeling at a time; they are advertisements for the self: Greed! Fear! Hate! Love! Misery! The people who phosphoresce thus are nothing like real people. They are instead big, vivid blots of typology. The Overweening Property Developer! His Divorced First Wife! His Sexy Young Trophy Wife! The Well-Dressed Black Lawyer Who Speaks Too White! The Oafish Football Player!”
Concerning Kafka’s short story “Josephine the Singer,” Zizek says that the first lesson of the story is that we have to “endorse a shamelessly total form of immersion into the social body, a pure ritualistic social performance....All liberal-individualist prejudices need to be abandoned… passion should obliterate all reasoning, the public should follow the rhythm and orders of the leader.” This is what you could call very bad literary criticism.