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Bodies politic seem to live eternally:
our actual body is heading toward death
  Richard A. Koenigsberg

Inherent within attachment to a body politic is the aspiration to fuse with a body that seems to go on eternally. On the other hand, one’s actual body is the place where death occurs.

Though we recognize our body as the location of death, we seek to embrace it. It  is the place where sexual excitement and physical pleasure occurs—not to mention love.

The experience of existence inspires us to abandon identification with “omnipotent” bodies politic.

Easier said than done: what a powerful pull “national life” exerts upon us. Real life seems to be happening “out there,” “up above.” We hesitate to separate from gigantic, world-historic events; the never-ending stream of “news.”

How difficult it is to abandon a body politic—and to embrace one’s actual body—a body heading toward death.

The nation or body politic is a double of the self—of one’s own body. Both war and genocide originate in the idea of preserving the immortal body with which one’s self has become identified.

Nationalism is relocation of the self—from our human body to a body politic. Killing and dying are the way we express faith in the existence of the body politic with which we imagine we are bound.

To identify with a nation is to imagine one will be eternally fused with an object that continues to exist even as we fade away. We won’t fade away entirely, because we are “at one” with an object that lives forever.

We glory in our identification with our nation, but also suffer from it. Attachment to the object militates against embracing our concrete existence. In comparison with our vast, powerful nation, we feel small; our life seems trivial.

At the same time that human beings identify with objects that seem immortal or ever-lasting, there is a part of us that turns away from these objects—seeking to abandon or destroy them. The omnipotent object drags us away from concrete existence. Still, we don’t wish to abandon the object to which we have become devoted: our identification is profound.

The Enemy

In order to resolve our ambivalence, we may split off our hostility toward the beloved object onto—the enemy. The enemy symbolizes our repressed wish to destroy the omnipotent object. We feel that our nation is repressing our existence—sucking the life out of us. But we refuse to separate from the object that seems to be the source of existence. We project our anger into the enemy.

The enemy symbolizes negation of the object to which we are attached—realization that it cannot save us from death. So we want to destroy the enemy—because we refuse to acknowledge that we wish to abandon the object to which we have devoted our existence. We wish to crush the enemy to drown out our disillusionment with the object to which we are attached.

The enemy represents disillusionment; negation of our desire to be eternally fused with the object. The desire to destroy the enemy reaffirms our fantasy of omnipotence. Our nation will demonstrate its power by virtue of its capacity to crush the enemy. The defeat of the enemy represents affirmation of the omnipotent object.

We hate the object we love because of the sacrifices we feel we have to make in order to prove our devotion. The desire to be attached to an omnipotent object and the experience of being oppressed and depleted by this object are one and the same. We feel crushed or overwhelmed by the very object to which we are attached, and consequently seek to throw if off. The enemy resides within us, representing the repressed wish to be liberated from the object to which we are attached.

The enemy symbolizes skepticism toward the idea of immortality, generating a desire to separate from the object in order to embrace our concrete existence. The enemy symbolizes our wish to destroy or to throw off the omnipotent object with which we have become identified.

The Psychosomatic Nation

Nationalism is a psychosomatic phenomenon. The object with which we identify—our nation—comes to reside within our body. If nations did not exist within our bodies, why would our relationship to these entities evoke such passion and violence?

Hitler and other Nazis called the Jew a “parasite upon the body of the people.” This image of an alien or enemy group as a parasite has been quite common in political rhetoric. What is the meaning of this metaphor?

The term parasite refers to an organism living on or in another organism. In most instances, the parasitic organism does not contribute to the health or well-being of the organism in which it resides. The parasite consumes the host organism’s resources.

When an alien group if called a parasite, what is suggested is that the parasitic group “lives off” the national body, but makes no contribution to this body. Citizens become angry at these alien groups that seem to drain the life of a nation.

What is it actually that is parasitic upon the citizen’s life? What is draining his energy?  None other than one’s own nation: the beloved object itself.

Identifying with an omnipotent object, the object comes to reside deeply within the self. The object is internalized—becomes psychosomatically present. The omnipotent object—one’s attachment and devotion to this object—becomes parasitic upon the self. The parasite is precisely the fantasy of eternal existence, which consumes the self.

The omnipotent object—one’s devotion to this object—is parasitic upon one’s actual life. The object drains energy away from concrete existence. Psychosomatically, the object is felt to be sucking energy—the life-blood—from one’s body.

In spite of the pain caused by one’s attachment to the object, one cannot acknowledge the suffering it causes. One is unwilling to abandon the object to which one has devoted so much of one’s existence. In order to maintain one’s relationship to the beloved object, knowledge that the object is draining the life out of one’s body is projected onto the enemy.

Hitler’s unconscious thought process went something like this. “It is not Germany that is sucking the life out of me, using up all my energy, depriving me of my concrete existence. It is the Jew.” The Jew symbolized the omnipotent object—Germany—that was parasitic upon Hitler’s body and self.

Attachment to omnipotent objects is ambivalent: we desire the sense of power that identification provides, but don’t enjoy the feeling of being burdened and oppressed by the object. Even as we seek to bind to omnipotent object, we would like to separate from them. What forms might the desire to separate from the object take?

Separating from Culture

In the 1970s in the United States and around the world, there was a rebellion against culture—upon the demands that national life placed upon the self. This was a struggle to “throw off” the omnipotent object—achieve liberation.

The struggle to throw off or abandon culture was the “embodiment” revolution: returning from the body politic (society) to one’s own body. Disillusionment with the rewards that society could provide—the fantasy of omnipotent identification—led to efforts to return to concrete existence: to experience and embrace one’s physical self.

Suddenly, everyone was running, running, running, running: rediscovering the energy contained within one’s body as the source of identity. At the same time, everyone was fucking, fucking, fucking: experiencing the thrill of uniting with real bodies in the world rather than with a body politic.

In 1980 came the body-building revolution: return to the foundation, the base. Inherent within attachment to a body politic is the aspiration of immortality. One seeks to fuse with a body that seems to go on eternally. On the other hand, one’s actual body is neither immortal nor eternal. It is the place where death occurs.

Even though we recognize our actual body as the location of death, we seek to embrace it. We know that it is the place where sexual excitement and physical pleasure occurs—not to mention love. The experience of actual existence— pleasure, excitement and love—inspires us to abandon identification with an “omnipotent” body politic.

Still, easier said than done: what a powerful pull our nation—with its national life—exerts upon us. It seems that real life is happening “out there” or “up above.” We hesitate to separate from the gigantic, world-historic events; from the never-ending stream of “news” and entertainment. How difficult it is to abandon a body politic—and to embrace one’s actual body—a body heading toward death.