In his book 2011 book (translated into English in 2018) Topology of Violence Byung-Chul Han takes issue with a popular notion that the world is becoming a better place with less violence. Despite the evidence and statistics that authors in support of this notion marshal to defend their thesis, Han claims that their notion of violence is so limited and out of date that, if accepted, it would be convincing. However, as a good student of Foucault, Han claims it is unlikely that violence has decreased in the world; what we can say is that it has merely changed its form. “Violence is simply protean. It varies its outward form according to the social constellation at hand. Today it is shifting from the visible to the invisible, from the frontal to the viral, from brute force to mediated force, from the real to the virtual, from the physical to the psychological, from the negative to the positive, withdrawing into the subcutaneous, subcommunicative, capillary and neuronal space, creating the false impression that it has disappeared. It becomes completely invisible at the moment it merges with its opposite, that is with freedom.”
Han borrows the world “Topology” from geography. It means the study, cataloging, and mapping of the features of a particular geographical area. Once the data is collected it can be compared over time to see the changes in the landscape. Han does the same with the field of violence. The book is divided into two broad parts: the macro-physics of violence and the Micro-physics of violence. In the first part Han looks at the topology, archeology, psyche, politics, and logic of violence.
The first topological change that Han identifies is the movement of violence from the open public to the hidden. Throughout history overt physical violence was the norm of good government. The limit of where the sovereign could wield violence as a tool was the limit of the sovereign’s realm. Up until the end of the pre-modern era violence was a spectacle of pomp and ceremony at the center of the town. The whole spectacle of violence was calculated to demonstrate a sovereign’s power and magnificence and to educate and inspire his subjects. Genghis Khan when asked what is best in life is alleged to have said: “to crush your enemies, to have them driven before you, and to hear the lamentations of their women.” Most victorious generals would do this in all parts of the world. Notice and imagine the calculated effect on the sovereign’s people of seeing their leader’s enemies driven before him and hearing the lamentations of foreign women. This ostentatious spectacle, which would be drenched in blood, torture, and humiliation, was an insignium of power. “[V]iolence did not conceal itself, it was visible and manifest. It had no shame. It was neither silent nor naked but rather eloquent and signifying. In archaic culture as well as in antiquity, the staging of violence was an integral, even central component of societal communication.”
The modern world recoils from this public kind of violence. It is shameful, often counterproductive and inhuman. Today, resorting to violence communicates a fragility of the state rather than its strength. “The theater of bloody violence, which characterizes the society of sovereignty, yields to a bloodless gas chamber withdrawn from public view. Rather than staging its magnificence, violence conceals itself in shame. It continues to be wielded, but not publicly stage. It does not expressly draw attention to itself. It lacks all language and symbolism. It heralds nothing. It takes place in mute annihilation.”
The second topological change in violence is its move from the external or physical to the internal or psychic. Where in the past outward feats of physical violence were celebrated as signs of power or of God’s favour (think of the Iliad where heroes were always ranked by their physical and combat skills or Ivanhoe as the knight champion) or were tolerated as a just way of doing things (consider the institution of the duel) today outward forms of violent expression are increasingly not allowed. Where in the past violent aggression was considered quite natural, today there remain very few avenues to express violent aggression. The result is that we have had to internalize our conflicts. “Violence occurs in the form of a conflict within the psyche. Destructive tensions are borne internally rather than discharged externally.” It is important to stress the words “borne” and “discharged”: when a destructive tension is borne instead of discharged it stays with you without end like a paralysis or habit that makes closure near impossible. This psychological internalization of violence helps cement the disciplinary society: “By way of subtle, discreet interventions, it infiltrates the subject’s neural paths and muscle fibers, subjugating it to outside ortho- and neurocorrective compulsions and imperatives.” An example of a double internalization of force is the common practice of “naturally” waking up just before one’s alarm would ring. First, in setting an alarm you impose force on yourself in the form of a noisy disturbance but when you wake yourself up before the alarm you have profoundly internalized the force to the point that it becomes truly invisible.
The Archeology of Violence
Han shows a similar logic between archaic revenge practices and a modern capitalist principle that controlled the archaic discharge of violence to show the morphing of “Mana…[defined as the] mysterious power substance, which leapt from the victim to the victor and which a brave warrior could accumulate in great quantities” into capital as the mysterious power substances which leaps from consumer to producer and can accumulate in great quantities as individuals act in the economy.
In prehistoric times the trauma of the natural violence of nature and animal or human predators was externalized onto gods – they did not have a scientific explanation that would ease their concerns so they created religion. “Violence is … the first religious experience.” and religion was first used to appease the gods; the first tool of appeasement was sacrifice. “Consequently, religious practice above all aims to placate violence, and to inhibit its unleashing, by means of violence….The conciliatory victim was laden with all of a society’s violent tendencies [or sins], which were then diverted to the exterior with the victim’s death. Sacrifice is ‘a deliberate act of collective substitution performed at the expense of the victim and absorbing all the internal tensions, feuds, and rivalries pent up within the community.’” But this is only half the story. “The religious practice of violence isn’t merely reactive and preventative; it is active and productive.” In the past and even today religion is used as justification for war and violence because [Mana or trophies of the vanquished] “…their accumulation is like that of capital. The deadly violence generates a feeling of growth, of strength, of power, even of immortality.”
Violence, as this mysterious power-substance, turned many conflicts into the modern equivalence of genocide – a very common practice in antiquity that still occasionally happens today. In a blood feud, for example, killing was undirected at any one person but directed at the whole group – the more modern idea of individual guilt was unimportant; what was important was the spilling of blood and in an inordinate amount of blood because only in this way could feelings of growth, strength, power and immortality be restored after a loss.
We still live with this mysterious power-substance in for example arms races. “At a deep psychological level, the archaic belief persists that the accumulation of the ability to kill will ward of death. More deadly violence is interpreted as less death.” “The economy of capital also displays a notable similarity to the archaic economy of violence. Instead of blood, it makes money flow forth. There is an essential proximity between blood and money. Capital behaves like modern mana. The more of it you have, the more powerful, invulnerable and even immortal you can consider yourself to be.” It is the fear of death that animates both the economy of mana and of capital. Capital is in a sense the saved labour – the labourer’s life time; “Endless capital creates the illusion of endless time.” as such the accumulation of capital, like the accumulation of mana in the past is psychologically pleasing in its real feeling but illusionary actuality of gaining immortality, power, strength etc.
“Power was first a substance [that could be accumulated] and only later developed into a hierarchical relationship.” It was the introduction of the notion of punishment that created a fundamental shift in thinking about revenge and established a hierarchical power relation. “Released from the context of power, [violence] is placed in a context of guilt. In this context, violence does not make me powerful but rather guilty….The system of punishment does not follow the logic of revenge but rather that of mediation….Thus it prevents the uncontrollable surging of violence….”