Abstract
This paper re-evaluates fanaticism as a distinct logic of political articulation within post-foundational political thought. Often dismissed as irrational zeal and overlooked in political theory compared to populism, fanaticism is here defined through its differentiation from populism. Both share an antagonistic understanding of the political, but differ significantly: while populism risks losing concrete content in its pursuit of hegemony, fanaticism centres a pure, concrete signifier, sustained by radical commitment and immediate utopian aims. This distinction avoids what Ernesto Laclau terms the ‘dangerous victory’. The paper proposes a concept of fanaticism that is operationalisable for empirical research, applicable not only to historical contexts but also to contemporary radical social movements, such as The Last Generation (Die Letzte Generation). This approach refrains from confining such movements to specific ideological or cultural content, providing a framework for analysing their organizational structures and mobilisation strategies.
Introduction
Historically the notion of fanaticism was framed as a pejorative term. Fanaticism has been depicted as a dangerous excess of conviction, an irrational zeal that disrupts the equilibrium of reasoned debate, institutional mediation, and democratic values (Cavanaugh, 2011; Kennel, 2022; La Vopa, 1997; Olson, 2007, 2009, 2014; Toscano, 2017). Over the past two decades, however, the concept has undergone a significant intellectual re-evaluation, moving beyond its traditional connotations to emerge as a lens for understanding radical political strategies. The present work seeks to contribute to this evolving discourse by advancing a systematic, post-foundational approach to fanaticism that integrates insights from contemporary political and social theory.
The urgency of rethinking fanaticism stems from its increasing relevance in the context of modern political and social transformations. Joel Olson's and Alberto Toscano's works were written in the post-9/11 era, when the dominant common sense figure of fanaticism was Islamic fundamentalism. However, recently the landscape has shifted. The rise of right-wing populist movements, the proliferation of conspiracy theories, the collapse of the old ‘Yalta-Potsdam’ international order, and the escalating environmental crisis have all contributed to the transformation of the figures of fanaticism. Toscano (2017: 216) described fanaticism as ‘a child of crisis’, a notion that can similarly be applied to populism, which emerges as a reaction to the crisis of representative democracy. However, fanaticism should be understood as a response to a more profound crisis. What was articulated in the previous year as ‘the democratic decline’ (e.g., Fish et al., 2018) is now increasingly perceived as a deep, systemic crisis of political, social, economic, and environmental systems. Consequently, researchers should anticipate an intensification of social conflicts, alongside the radicalisation of methods of political struggle and ideological discourses.
The recent scholarly focus on the issue of fanaticism aligns with the trends we have highlighted. Nevertheless, current studies on fanaticism exhibit shortcomings that hinder a comprehensive understanding of it as a distinct political logic and a method of constructing a collective subject. To substantiate this argument, the paper situates fanaticism within the broader landscape of political theory, contrasting it with the populist logic of articulation. It critically examines the rational underpinnings of fanaticism, including its reliance on unconditional commitment to its cause and its ability to mobilise through the promise of utopian transformation and the threat of existential antagonism. Moreover, we contend that the provided framework could be suitable for the analysis of contemporary radical movements, particularly those responding to ecological and environmental crises, which exhibit traits akin to fanaticism as the logic of political articulation. To demonstrate the operationalisability of the proposed concept of fanaticism, we conducted an analysis of press releases issued by the social movement Die Letzte Generation, employing qualitative content analysis as developed by Philip Mayring. Ultimately, the paper argues that recognising fanaticism as a rational and distinct mode of political articulation opens new avenues for understanding the strategies and trajectories of radical movements.
The distinction between traditional and revisionist approaches to the concept of fanaticism
In recent years, the concept of fanaticism has gained increasing prominence within the field of social theory. The years 2022 and 2023 witnessed the publication of two substantial collections: The Philosophy of Fanaticism: Epistemic, Affective, and Political Dimensions (Townsend et al., 2022) and Fanaticism and the History of Philosophy (Katsafanas, 2023). Notably, in 2017, the second edition of Alberto Toscano's seminal work, Fanaticism: On the Uses of the Idea, was released (Toscano, 2017), alongside a plethora of articles and related studies. To briefly outline the central arguments of the contemporary debate on fanaticism and highlight the gap in the systematic political-philosophical conceptualisation of the term, the discourse may be broadly divided into two approaches: traditional and revisionist.
The traditional approach has historically regarded fanaticism as a derogatory and pejorative concept (Cavanaugh, 2011; Olson, 2007; Poe, 2021; Toscano, 2017). The term ‘fanatic’ is often used to label a political or ideological opponent, portraying them as an enemy. In this framework, the fanatic embodies negativity and opposition to the civil order, which he or she conceives as a domain of institutional mediation that forestalls the realisation of the Kingdom of Heaven on earth (Cavanaugh, 2011: 229; Colas, 1997: 41, 100). An early modern example of such a movement is the Anabaptists, whom Luther referred to as Schwärmer, alluding to the diabolical origins of their spurious and illusory ‘revelations’. Over time, the term became medicalised, likened to a contagious disease from which the afflicted individual must be cured (Katsafanas, 2019: 6; La Vopa, 1997: 88).
The Age of Enlightenment continued to construct fanaticism as its antithesis, representing it as the Other. For example, Alexander Deleyre's entry on ‘Fanaticism’ in Diderot and D’Alembert's Encyclopaedia describes it as follows: ‘Fanaticism is blind and passionate zeal born of superstitious opinions, causing people to commit ridiculous, unjust, and cruel actions, not only without any shame or remorse, but even with a kind of joy and comfort. Fanaticism, therefore, is only superstition put into practice’ (Deleyre, 1756). In this view, fanaticism is linked to irrational beliefs that give rise to violence and totalitarian practices. Voltaire, declaring fanaticism his principal adversary, underscored its inherent bloodthirstiness (Voltaire, 2011: 174). Paul Katsafanas synthesises the perspectives of leading Enlightenment thinkers and identifies three defining characteristics of the Enlightenment conception of fanaticism:
An unwavering commitment to an ideal; An unwillingness to subject the ideal (or its premises) to rational critique; The presumption of a non-rational sanction for the ideal (or its premises) (Katsafanas, 2019: 7).
A significant milestone in the development of the concept of fanaticism is its decoupling from exclusively religious content. By the late eighteenth century, the dominant Enlightenment discourse faced a rival in Romantic philosophy. Johann Gottfried Herder, for instance, likened philosophy and fanaticism to two sisters, mutually engendering one another and producing similarly monstrous outcomes (La Vopa, 1997: 91–92). This dialectical perspective facilitated the association of ideological radicalism with fanaticism. Conservative critics, for example, used the label of ‘fanatics’ to delegitimise the French Revolution, particularly targeting the Jacobin movement (Toscano, 2017: 24). In the twentieth century, this critique of excessive rationalism as a form of fanaticism was further developed by opponents of utopian thinking. This critique emerged both on the left, among the Frankfurt School theorists such as Adorno and Horkheimer, and on the right, among Cold War liberals such as Isaiah Berlin. (Nicholls, 2002: 443)
The traditional approach to the concept of fanaticism can scarcely be regarded as merely a historical phenomenon. The following quote is extracted from Quassim Cassam's (2022) article ‘The Fanaticism: For and Against’: ‘Fanatics have unwarranted contempt for other people’ s ideals and interests and they are willing to trample on those ideals and interests in pursuit of their own perverted ideals. They are pathologically uncompromising and unwilling to think critically about their own ideals because they mistakenly regard them as indubitable. Their certainty is spurious but they are nevertheless willing to sacrifice themselves and others in pursuit of their ideals’ (Cassam, 2022: 26). The aforementioned Paul Katsafanas characterises fanaticism as a vice or ‘practical defect’, a failing that encapsulates both rational and moral shortcomings simultaneously (Katsafanas, 2019: 1) Zachary R. Goldsmith in the conclusion of the recent book Fanaticism: A Political Philosophical History opposes fanaticism to “politics, democracy and liberalism” (Goldsmith, 2022: 160).
The traditional approach constructs the concept of fanaticism as negativity, positioning it as an opposing force to civil society, rationality, deliberation, and democracy. As a result, the term assumes an excessively normative character: it is something that must be combated, and its fanatical adherents must be cured or isolated. These attributes hinder the potential for using the concept of fanaticism in an analytical manner. The traditional approach fails to accurately distinguish phenomena within the social world, instead focusing solely on prescription and accusation.
Significant progress in moving beyond the one-dimensional, pejorative use of the term fanaticism has been achieved in recent years by several scholars (e.g., Battaly, 2023; Cavanaugh, 2011; Kennel, 2019, 2022; Olson, 2007, 2009; Poe, 2021; Tietjen, 2021, 2022, 2023; Toscano, 2017). This body of work will, in general, be referred to as the revisionist approach. 1
Researchers critically examine the history of the concept of fanaticism (alongside synonymous terms such as ‘zealotry’ or ‘Schwärmerei’), interpreting it as a history of labelling political enemies. Moreover, on an ontic level, the identity of the enemy has shifted over time, granting the notion of the fanatic a timeless, ahistorical quality. As Alberto Toscano (2017: 14) observes, the discourse of fanaticism readily connects figures such as Prophet Muhammad and Robespierre, Cromwell, Savonarola, and the Iranian Revolution, as well as Lenin, Hitler, and Müntzer. At the same time, as Kennel (2022: 95) observes, fanatics are portrayed as both ‘behind the times’ (outdated, barbaric, unreasonable) and ‘ahead of themselves’ (utopian, apocalyptic, eschatological). Fanatics are seen as opposing the temporal regime of gradual progress (Toscano, 2017), institutional mediation (Colas, 1997), and deliberation and negotiation (Olson, 2007). The revisionist approach uncovers the foundation of the pejorative use of the concept of fanaticism, specifically the perspective of the observer, which reflects the dominant ethico-political framework (Olson, 2009). This perspective underpins a plurality of uses of the term that disregards the geographical, temporal, and broader contextual particularities of specific fanatical movements.
Simultaneously, the revisionist approach extends beyond mere critical-historical analysis. Scholars within this framework endeavour to formulate a definition of fanaticism that transcends its attribution to individual traits, such as moral failure, vice, temperament, or psychological condition. Olson (2007: 688) argues that fanaticism should be understood as a rational political strategy that polarises society into two camps – friends and enemies – driven by ‘ardent devotion to the cause’. As an example of this strategy, Olson (2009: 83) (and later Toscano) cites the nineteenth-century radical abolitionist movement in the United States, whose ‘refusal to compromise’ was a rational method of struggle based on ‘a sober assessment of the strategic weakness of deliberative politics when it came to ending slavery’ (Toscano, 2017: 26). Rationality, however, represents only one possible dimension for understanding fanaticism. Ruth Rebecca Tietjen (2021: 112–113) emphasises the affective aspects of fanaticism, particularly the ‘loving devotion’ to an idea or value perceived as sacred, the ‘symptomatic identification’ with groups viewed as suffering or oppressed, and the ‘hostile antagonism’ directed towards those who oppose the sacred value. In subsequent work, Tietjen (2023: 225) explores the relationship between fanaticism and various forms of fear, including a fear of the state of ‘existential uncertainty’, which drives the fanatic's unwavering radical commitment. Toscano (2017) and Kennel (2022: 95–96) have explored the political-theological and temporal dimensions of fanaticism. They characterise the fanatic as one who seeks to transcend the temporal mode of gradual, incremental historical progress, striving instead to establish a utopian state – the Kingdom of Heaven – in the present moment, thereby breaking with this temporal framework. Toscano elaborates on and extends the insights of Dominique Colas, who viewed the fanatic as opposing the principle of mediation, exemplified by the Anabaptist movement. For Colas (1997: 100), fanaticism represents the aspiration to abolish the distinction between the Heavenly and Earthly Cities, effectively seeking to dismantle political institutions and the symbolic order. This concept is further developed by Poe (2021: 359), who defines fanaticism as ‘the attempt to disrupt current modes of representation that act to repress its convictions’. Poe investigates the rhetorical foundations of fanaticism through an analysis of Lenin's ‘What Is to Be Done’.
The revisionist approach successfully transcends the one-sided, pejorative character of the concept that typifies the traditional approach. However, this gives rise to another issue: the non-systematic and unstructured nature of the field. In the works of revisionists, fanaticism does not emerge as a concept readily applicable to contemporary social research, such as the study of radical social movements and social movement organisations. Depending on the specific case study or the perspective adopted by the researcher, different aspects of the concept are highlighted. For Olson, fanaticism is primarily defined by its opposition to deliberation and negotiation; for Colas and Poe, it represents resistance to the idea of political representation; Toscano emphasises its opposition to temporal regimes, and so forth. Kennel observes that the multiplicity of speech acts about fanaticism is inherently preferable to the repressiveness of constructing an ideal type. We concur with this critique, acknowledging that the construction of an ideal type frozen in time and space can constitute an act of ‘epistemic violence’ (Kennel, 2022: 106). However, we propose that it is possible to theorise the concept in ways that avoid reducing it to specific ideological, cultural, or other content. Instead, such theorising can aim to capture a particular logic – the construction of a collective subject – that underscores the shared characteristics of fanaticism as a logic of articulation. The development of such logic can address the unsystematic nature of current research on fanaticism and enable its application to the study of contemporary social movements and their organisations. To this end, we will compare fanaticism with a partially analogous logic of constructing a collective subject that similarly involves the creation of a political frontier, namely populism. A suitable theoretical framework for such a comparison is post-foundational political thought.
Reactivating the political: Fanaticism as an antagonistic logic of articulation
Antagonism is an indispensable ground for any conceptualisation of fanaticism. Whether it manifests as opposition to the institutions of representation, political mediation, the conception of time or history as a gradual process, opposition to moderation and negotiation, or resistance to evil and its representatives, it invariably entails a division of social space into opposing camps. Olson correctly notes this in his 2007 work, where he characterises fanaticism as a political strategy ‘which seeks to draw clear lines along the friends/enemies dichotomy’ (Olson, 2007: 688). Olson directly references Carl Schmitt and his ‘concept of the political’. While Schmitt's ideas offer some insight, his framework is not entirely suitable for conceptualising fanaticism, despite Olson's intuition leading him in the right direction. Schmitt's conception of the political arises between and is a condition for the existence of political unities or states. Although Schmitt acknowledged the presence of a secondary notion of the political within the state, it must always possess less intensity than the primary political order; otherwise, it threatens the destruction of political unity (Schmitt, 2007: 30–32). A more coherent approach would involve turning to left Schmittianism, which views conflict as intrinsic to any political unity and thus places it at the core of political theory. We will later explore why Olson did not pursue this direction of left Schmittianism. Another issue with Schmitt's framework is his belief in the non-reducibility of the political to other spheres, considering the mixing of the political with the moral as both dangerous and normatively problematic (Schmitt, 2007: 36). In contrast, fanaticism represents an unmistakable and perhaps the purest fusion of the moral and the political, understood in an antagonistic, dissociative manner. Fanaticism constructs the enemy as morally corrupt.
Olson develops his perspective on the relations between fanaticism and antagonism in a 2009 paper, where he compares fanaticism with two opposing models of democracy: deliberative and agonal. The aim of deliberative democracy is to maximise the convergence of opposing viewpoints, striving for compromise and respectful disagreement while acknowledging differing opinions (Olson, 2009: 86). Deliberative democracy establishes an ethico-political framework that seeks to resolve conflicts without threatening the stability of political unity. However, as with any such framework, there are certain exclusions inherent to it. The fanatic, who believes that his values possess a special status (or sacred values, as Paul Katsafanas (2019) would argue), and is unable to coexist with certain opposing values, constitutes the ‘natural’ and necessary exception to the deliberative model. Interestingly and unexpectedly, Olson identifies the deliberative model with the agonal model. While the agonal model outwardly competes with the deliberative model, which seeks to maintain conflict within democracy, it essentially shares the same exception, albeit justifying it differently (Olson, 2009: 89). Chantal Mouffe observed that the central idea of the agonal model of democracy is to preserve conflict without allowing it to degenerate into open confrontation or antagonism. As such, participants in the political process are not enemies, but adversaries – friendly enemies – who recognise each other's right to exist and share a common democratic value (Mouffe, 2011). Olson contends that both the deliberative and the agonal models of democracy represent two variations of the same liberal ethico-political framework, with their difference being more stylistic than substantive. We can continue Olson's analysis and argue for the coherence of deliberative and agonistic models of democracy by drawing on the example of partisanship discussed in The Meaning of Partisanship (White and Ypi, 2016). For White and Ypi, partisanship, understood as a ‘regulated adversary’ or as the regulated rivalry of different parties within a pluralist system, does not contradict the idea of deliberation and political justification. On the contrary, it is capable of strengthening them (White and Ypi, 2016: 65–68). In this sense, it can be concluded that partisanship, despite involving a certain degree of political commitment 3 , is grounded in the recognition of a shared ethico-political framework and common institutional practices.
Fanaticism, by contrast, signifies a struggle between competing ethico-political frameworks, a contest for hegemony rather than a struggle within a specific framework (Olson, 2009: 82, 90). In doing so, Olson signals his disagreement with the theoretical approach of left Schmittianism. At the same time, he distinguishes between the struggle to establish an ethico-political framework 2 (for hegemony) and the struggle within an ethico-political framework.
In this, Olson rightly yet somewhat intuitively and latently draws a distinction which is adequately suited to the research task of conceptualising fanaticism and at the same time that is thoroughly developed in contemporary continental (post-foundational) philosophy, namely between the political and politics. Politics refers to the recurrent, institutionalised practices that constitute social space (Marchart, 2007: 5), what Olson describes as the ethico-political framework. The political, in turn, refers to ‘the moment of partial and always, in the last instance, unsuccessful grounding’ (Marchart, 2007: 8). The partial nature of grounding is that any given state of a social system is based on a necessary exclusion (Laclau, 2015b: 66–69). This implies that the system cannot be total, as Olson also suggests when he argues that the liberal ethico-political framework, whether in its deliberative or agonal version, relies on the exclusion of fanatics. The distinction between the political and politics (i.e., the political difference) is capable of uniting multiple interpretations of fanaticism.
Fanaticism is rooted in a refusal to share a common symbolic space with one's opponent, and it is this shared space that serves as the condition of possibility for non-antagonistic conflict resolution. In this sense, when Olson describes fanaticism as opposition to the idea of deliberation, negotiation, and Colas and Poe as opposition to the idea of representation, moderation, they are describing essentially the same desire of fanatics to destroy the space of a common, shared symbolic space with their opponent. Toscano, in turn, points us to fanaticism as a certain opposition of historical-temporal modes: in one, history represents the space of gradual evolutionary change, the other mode, represents history as a radical break with the first mode, as a desire to reach the Kingdom of Heaven here and now, to cross a transcendent border (Toscano, 2017: 52). We can consider the confrontation between different regimes of history as one perspective on the political difference. Politics is based on sedimented, that is, hiding its own foundation, repetitious practices (Marchart, 2014: 273–275). Such repetitions render the inherently temporal moment of the institution static, transforming time into space. The political, on the other hand, is based on uniqueness, introducing into social space an element (dislocation for Laclau or event for Badiou) that is impossible within it, which gives it an inherently temporal character.
We argue that the distinction between the political and politics allows us to delimit the space in which fanaticism, understood as a political strategy or a logic of constructing the political subject, operates. Politics consists of a series of repetitive, institutionalised practices, such as negotiation, deliberative processes, political representation, and delegation, which involve a shared symbolic space between opposing parties. In contrast, the political (at least in its antagonistic, dissociative variants (Marchart, 2007) involves the rejection of this shared symbolic space and activates a confrontation to establish a new, alternative symbolic space. Fanaticism, therefore, functions as one of the variants for reactivating the political, dividing social space into opposing camps. To properly conceptualise fanaticism, it is more appropriate to compare it not with forms of deliberative and agonal democracy or political ideologies, but with another logic of antagonistic political articulation – namely, populism.
The post-foundational distinction between populism and fanaticism
Ernesto Laclau conceptualises populism as the logic of articulating social demands. These demands, understood as the minimal unit of social space, represent expressions of discontent directed towards administrative power (Laclau, 2015a: 154). When demands are addressed as individual cases capable of being resolved independently of one another, this reflects the logic of difference employed by administrative authorities to manage such demands. This logic aligns with the domain of politics. 4 Populism, by contrast, operates through the logic of equivalence. This logic unites a diverse range of demands, presenting them as a cohesive and indivisible whole – a chain of equivalence (Laclau, 2015a: 155–156). Crucially, in line with the theoretical stance of post-foundational political thought, these demands lack an external unifying principle, such as an economic basis, and can only be consolidated through shared negativity or collective dissatisfaction (Laclau, 2015b: 69). For a chain of equivalence to form, it must identify an enemy; without an opponent, unity cannot be realised. Populism thus divides social space into two antagonistic camps: ‘the people’, representing the collective chain of unmet demands; and ‘the elites’, symbolising the adversary held responsible for these unresolved grievances. Populism inherently resists negotiation, as its unified and indivisible demand cannot be subjected to rational deliberation or compromise (Laclau, 2005: 82).
However, a chain of equivalence cannot be constructed solely on the basis of a shared opposition to a common enemy. One of the elements must adopt a hegemonic role within the chain, representing its unity and commonality (Laclau, 2015b: 72). Furthermore, each element is ontologically split, containing both its specific, differential content and the potential to symbolise opposition to the system as a whole. Hegemony, as Laclau puts it, is ‘a dangerous victory’ (Laclau, 2015b: 73). When an element within the chain takes on the position of hegemon, it forfeits its particularistic content, becoming a mere symbol that embodies the unity of the collective subject. This symbol, referred to as an ‘empty signifier’, highlights the limits of signification itself, effectively erasing the unique, differential content of each element within the chain. As such, the position of hegemon carries inherently ambivalent qualities. On the one hand, the association of specific content with broader social forces – such as society or ‘the people’ – is an undeniably significant achievement in political struggle. On the other hand, this hegemonic stance is inherently unstable, as it necessitates the severance of ties with the element's original content, rendering the unity it represents precarious and ephemeral.
The concept of the ‘dangerous victory’ offers a framework to delve into the particularities of fanaticism as a logic of political articulation. To begin, however, it is important to delineate its similarities with populism. First, both populism and fanaticism involve the construction of an antagonistic frontier, dividing the social realm into two opposing camps. Fanaticism, however, exhibits a more pronounced degree of antagonisation. For example, while populism typically identifies the enemy as ‘corrupted elites’ (Mudde, 2004: 543), fanaticism often frames the enemy as the embodiment of absolute evil – whether this is seen in the radical abolitionists’ depiction of slavery advocates or in Millenarian sects’ portrayal of the servants of ‘Antichrist’ (Toscano, 2017: 52). Second, as a direct corollary of their shared antagonistic ground, both populism and fanaticism reject deliberation, negotiation, and institutional approaches to conflict resolution. In other words, both seek to destabilise the differential logic underpinning the space of politics and to reactivate the moment of the political. In doing so, they aim to initiate a struggle for the establishment of a new social order, undermining existing institutional frameworks and practices in favour of transformative, oppositional action.
The distinction lies in fanaticism's propensity to anchor a fixed meaning to the hegemonic element, resisting its transformation into an empty signifier. Olson (2007: 688) refers to this as ‘ardent devotion to the cause’, while Toscano (2017: 93) highlights the ‘unconditional conviction’ central to fanaticism as a means of constructing the collective subject. This fixation also manifests in studies of fanaticism as an affective or individual characteristic. Katsafanas (2019: 12) portrays the fanatic as someone who upholds sacred values – those perceived as inviolable and beyond question. Expanding on Nietzsche's insights, Katsafanas (2019: 13) argues that the fanatic's need to treat certain values as sacred arises from a desire to sustain a stable sense of self. Tietjen (2023: 225) further develops this idea: the fanatic grapples with ‘aversive existential uncertainty’ and, in an effort to escape it, forgoes epistemic methods such as inquiry and deliberation. Instead, the fanatic seeks unassailable certainty in a specific value or worldview, consolidating identity around a perceived immutable truth.
Our aim is to primarily conceptualise fanaticism as a logic of political mobilisation, but there are clear parallels with understandings of fanaticism as a personality trait or affective state. Just as an individual fanatic is driven by a fear for the preservation of their sacred value and seeks to escape a state of existential uncertainty, fanaticism as a mode of constructing the political subject cannot tolerate the dilution or obfuscation of its foundational content. This renders fanaticism profoundly paradoxical. Olson (2009: 91), drawing on the speeches of radical abolitionist Wendell Phillips, illustrates this dynamic. Phillips aimed to agitate, dividing social space into two opposing camps: one represented ‘the principle of the South’, associated with ‘censorship, religious oppression, a sham democracy, and an ‘aristocracy of the skin’, and the other ‘the principle of the North’, embodying ‘equality, free speech, freedom of religion, and democracy’. In this way, fanaticism constructs a chain of equivalence, with the North and South serving as signifiers for ‘pure communitarian being’ on the one hand and ‘pure anti-community, pure evil, and negation’ on the other (Laclau, 2015b: 70). Simultaneously, the fanatical subject remains tethered to its core demand, its primary and abstract idea. Radical abolitionism exemplifies this, presenting an uncompromising demand for the immediate abolition of slavery – eschewing negotiation, postponement, or alternative considerations (Toscano, 2017: 26). Fanaticism strives to shield the chain of equivalence from ‘hijacking’, 5 seeking to prevent the principal sign from dissolving into an empty signifier. Just as the fear of uncertainty compels an individual to cling resolutely to a sacred value, the collective subject of fanaticism endeavours to preserve the specific meaning of the key element, even as this key element must inevitably enter into a hegemonic relationship. If the fight against slavery, having become an empty signifier, loses its original, specific meaning, does this imply that the goal of emancipation risks becoming unattainable, reduced to a mere ‘name’? This fear, coupled with the longing for a universal collective subject, lies at the heart of the fanaticism.
Thus, the principal distinction of fanaticism lies in its aspiration to construct a chain of equivalence while simultaneously preserving for a particular element both its original content and its position as the hegemon – that is, as the representative of the chain's unity. However, this preservation is inherently unattainable, as every element within the system derives its differential (‘positive’) character only through the existence of a fundamental exception, without which the system cannot sustain its systematicity (Laclau, 2015b: 67). When elements are articulated, their identities undergo transformation (Laclau and Mouffe, 2001: 105). In this process, what unites them – their shared opposition to the system – becomes more salient than what differentiates them, as their differences are contingent on the reiteration of social practices that obscure antagonism. Consequently, it becomes impossible to retain the original meaning of the demand, as the construction of a chain of equivalence erases the differentiality of its elements. However, a significant distinction must be drawn between preserving original content in an absolute sense and preserving it in a relative one. In topological terms, this may be understood as the difference between homological and non-homological transformation, that is, between change which retains the original form and change which does not (Law, 2002). Any new articulation inevitably alters the meaning of signifiers; for instance, the coupling of the market economy with conservatism in the era of Margaret Thatcher transformed the meaning of both (Hall, 1979).
At the same time, as demonstrated by radical abolitionists, the tactical or rhetorical deployment of new signifiers may serve a strategic purpose. One may consider, for example, the instrumental use of the threat of disunionism to persuade the North of the necessity for decisive action and war, a position that was promptly abandoned once the Civil War had in fact begun (Olson, 2007). In this sense, in order to avoid the neutralisation or dilution of their demand for the abolition of slavery, they effectively performed a hegemonic operation, linking the unity of the state to a specific political resolution. This constitutes a political intervention par excellence. Without such a move, the demand itself might have been lost and mobilisation might have failed.
In a more poetic register, one might recall the words of the Red Queen in Alice's Adventures in Wonderland: ‘Now, here, you see, it takes all the running you can do, to keep in the same place.’ To preserve a particular content, it is necessary to undertake new articulations.
Hope and fear: Utopian immediacy and strategic commitment in the logic of fanatical mobilisation
Beyond the distinction between the political and the social (politics), Laclau introduces the concept of society as a term denoting the unattainable, fully deterministic state of a social system (Laclau, 1990: 90–91). Fundamental antagonism obstructs the closure of the social system, preventing it from becoming society in this absolute sense. Yet, paradoxically, this antagonism simultaneously enables the existence of the social system. It functions as a quasi-transcendental condition – the impossibility of a total order becomes the very condition for the possibility of multiple, contingent orders (Marchart, 2007). At the same time, society persists as a perpetual, yet inevitably doomed, effort to hegemonise social space entirely and establish absolute order (Laclau, 1990: 92).
Fanaticism represents an endeavour to establish society par excellence. Within any given ideological framework, it is common to conceptualise the surrounding reality as a coherent and harmonious, as society. For instance, economic liberalism tends to depict human interactions in non-antagonistic terms, framing them as transactions among individuals engaged in buying and selling goods, labour, and property, all aimed at maximising utility (Laclau, 1990: 11). The concept of a non-antagonistic social space aligns with the utopian (or theological) notion of Paradise, a state where there is no constitutive outside (Marchart, 2014: 276). The unattainability of such a non-antagonistic ‘society’ is often offset by a particular conception of temporality or historical progression. This perspective envisions history as a slow, incremental process, perpetually deferring the realisation of the ideal society to an indefinite future. For instance, reformist strands of Marxism presume that communism will emerge inevitably at a certain (final) stage of development of the productive forces. Fanaticism, by contrast, rejects this gradualist view, striving instead to construct the ideal society immediately, in the present moment. As such, fanaticism is paradoxically both ultra-political and anti-political, as well as simultaneously ahistorical and ahead of its times (Kennel, 2022: 95; Toscano, 2017: 15–16, 51–52). It is ultra-political because it generates the most intense forms of antagonism, yet anti-political because its ultimate aim is to eliminate politics entirely. It is ahistorical because it appears archaic or barbaric from the perspective of the existing order, and ahead of its times because it seeks to establish a utopian future that transcends not only the present system but also any conceivable iteration of social order.
The political subject of fanaticism emerges as an endeavour to construct an absolute subject, seeking liberation not only from specific forms of ‘structural objectivity’ (Laclau, 1990: 61) but also from all possible structural determinations. It aspires to initiate a pure and absolute act of establishing order. In this context, Hegel's characterisation of fanaticism as a ‘pathology of the will’ appears particularly apt. The will consists of two parts – pure indeterminacy and the act of its determination into any particularity. Fanaticism is the desire of the will, which does not take on any complete form but remains in its desire for empty infinity (Colas, 1997: 279). In a similar vein, Toscano defines fanaticism as a ‘politics of abstraction’ (Toscano, 2017: 24), aiming to uphold an abstract value, such as universal equality, ‘without regard to consequences’ (Toscano, 2017: 24). However, when such an abstract idea is embodied within a structure or mediated through political institutions, it will inevitably forfeit its universal character.
To summarise, it may be argued that the political subject of fanaticism resists the transformation of its core demand – whether an abstract idea or cause – into a symbolically mediated, institutional structure and at the same time its reduction to an ‘empty signifier’. The ‘empty signifier’ points to an entirely unsymbolisable reality, yet this gesture does not indicate anything concrete, pointing instead only to the fundamental impossibility of representation (Laclau, 2015b: 68). Fanaticism, however, refuses to accept this limitation and strives to designate, and embody, the Real (in the Lacanian sense) as though it were a concrete sign, a ‘pure signifier’, representing a higher and fundamental reality.
As previously discussed, fanaticism can be understood as an attempt to create a ‘society’ par excellence, which inherently necessitates a myth – a form of objectivity that promises structural completeness (ideal society, kingdom of heaven, communism, progress, ecological utopia) – the realisation of which remains impossible under the existing order (Laclau, 1990: 63–65; Torfing, 1999: 114–115). The mythological dimension characterises any subject, defined by its position between the spaces of the mythical and the actual social realm. However, as political mobilisation unfolds, the mythical space starts to function as a horizon capable of encompassing a multiplicity of heterogeneous demands (Laclau, 1990: 63–64). Thus, constructs such as Human Progress or the Christian Millennium perpetually remain at an infinite remove from the present. This distance underscores the fact that the horizon cannot be reduced to a ‘mere object’ or an ‘essence’ that can serve as the foundation for a social structure. Fanaticism, however, obstructs the transformation of mythical space into a temporal horizon by striving to realise a utopian state in the here and now.
As Katsafanas observes (2019: 10): ‘Indeed, an interesting feature of fanatics is that the content of their commitment often seems less important than the manner of their commitment.’ In this regard, mere belief in a utopian state – whether communism, the kingdom of heaven, or even apocalyptic visions – does not necessarily signify fanaticism. Such beliefs can align with a more ‘moderate’ temporal perspective, conceived as a distant, infinitely postponed endpoint of social development. Fanaticism, by contrast, attempts to actualise mythical space not in some distant future but immediately, without delay or deferral. This quest attempts to collapse distinctions between mythical and social space, the political and politics, and between subjectivity and its constitutive outside. While the ontological impossibility of such claims is evident, their mobilising potential remains an intriguing question. How can such impossible demands inspire action and movement?
The paradoxical nature of fanaticism as a mode of constructing the political subject, as described earlier, calls into question the rationality asserted by Olson and Toscano (Olson, 2007: 692; Toscano, 2017: 26). The inclination to cling to the concrete content of a mythic space, resisting the transformation of an abstract idea into an ‘empty signifier’, inherently complicates the formation of a chain of equivalence. Such an approach restricts the range of demands that may be incorporated into the subject, thereby limiting its inclusivity. To grasp the distinctive rationality underpinning fanaticism, it is essential to examine two key attributes integral to Olson's definition: an ‘ardent devotion to the cause’ and a triadic antagonism structured around ‘friends, moderates, and enemies’ (Olson, 2007: 688). Let us begin with the notion of ‘ardent devotion to the cause’ (Toscano employs the similar concept of ‘unconditional conviction’ (Toscano, 2017: 93)). Fanatics refuse to compromise or even engage in negotiation with their opponents. ‘“But we must study the problem…” Slavery is evil – kill it! “We will hold a conference…” Slavery is evil – kill it! “But our allies…” Slavery is evil – kill it!’ – an eloquent statement – opens the first chapter of Fanaticism: On the Uses of the Idea (Toscano, 2017: 20). Fanaticism, as a political strategy, deliberately constricts the range of possible options for action. While intuitively one might assume that freely choosing among a variety of means to achieve an end represents a more rational approach, this is not necessarily the case.
Thomas Schelling in the early 1960s proposed the notion of commitment as the ability of a bargaining agent to strategically limit its options to gain advantage. By restricting its actions, the agent forces its adversaries to change their expectations and thereby change their behaviour (Fontaine, 2024: 3–4). Schelling uses many memorable examples of how commitment works. For example, Schelling begins his essay ‘Strategies of Commitment’ with a reference to ancient military wisdom: it is necessary to fight in such a landscape that escape from the battlefield is impossible for your army and easy for the enemy soldiers (Schelling, 2006: 1). In this way, both sides of the conflict will realise that the first side has no choice but to fight to the last man. This realisation may even cause a potential adversary to back down, not to escalate further, to make concessions. Schelling believes that there are many ways to become committed: ‘Legally, one files suit. Reputationally, one takes a public position. Physically, one gathers speed before an intersection. Emotionally, one becomes obsessed. Locationally, one occupies a position from which retreat is impossible (“burns bridges”)’ (Schelling, 2006: 2). Thus, the radical refusal to compromise functions as a way of positioning the agent's identity as a formidable enemy – one with whom engagement is inadvisable, whose actions are best left unimpeded, and against whom it is preferable to surrender without resistance.
Attempts have already been made to conceptualise radicals (so-called ‘extremists’) as rational agents, employing rational choice theories and game theory models (Wintrobe, 2006). Rationality, in this context, is understood as selecting the most effective means to achieve a specific goal (Wintrobe, 2006: 8). The concept of commitment provides insight into why limiting choices and rejecting the possibility of compromise – essentially positioning oneself as a dangerous enemy – can be considered the most rational path toward achieving a given goal. Furthermore, there exists a significant connection between group commitment, solidarity, and the resolution of the classic freerider problem. Radical groups often demand that members demonstrate their commitment through practices such as self-sacrifice. These actions serve as mechanisms to ensure members’ dedication to the group's objectives while simultaneously excluding those unwilling to make substantial efforts toward achieving the group's goals (Wintrobe, 2006: 111). Notably, when Olson elaborates on the idea of ‘ardent devotion to the cause’, he defines it in terms that include ‘her readiness to kill, die, or suffer (such as enduring imprisonment) on their behalf’ (Olson, 2007: 688). Such practices foster a high degree of group solidarity, which functions both to exclude disloyal members and to address the freerider problem. 5
However, not every sect can be characterised as fanatic if we define fanaticism as a specific logic of political articulation and the construction of the collective subject. A sect, as an organisation marked by a high degree of solidarity and the use of unconventional methods of struggle, does not necessarily seek to construct a chain of equivalence. Fanaticism, in contrast, does precisely this by relying on extremely intense commitment and, consequently, high group solidarity. This allows it to maintain the original discursive element – the ‘pure signifier’ – in the hegemonic position within the chain of equivalence, thereby seeking to avoid what might be described as a ‘dangerous victory’.
This represents the mobilising core of fanaticism. Part of this dynamic lies in the promise of an immediate and instant realisation of a utopian order, one that seeks not only to resolve specific social antagonisms but also to eliminate all forms of social antagonism entirely. Olson, when explaining the concept of ‘ardent devotion to the cause’, similarly notes that the fanatic exhibits ‘total identification with the oppressed’ (Olson, 2007: 688). The promise of a utopian paradise aligns with Bloch's understanding of mobilising so-called non-synchronous groups, such as the peasantry during periods of intense urbanisation. These groups’ demands cannot, in principle, be articulated through rational political calculations that focus on means and ends (Bloch, 1977; Toscano, 2017: 59–60). Toscano traces this dynamic, and while he denies structuralist remnants in the division between synchronicity and nonsynchronicity, he acknowledges the mobilising potential of utopian visions for the most oppressed groups. In this framing, the enemy is cast as a representative of absolute Evil, blocking the path towards the construction of an earthly Paradise (Toscano, 2017: 52). Nevertheless, this is only one aspect of the broader mobilisation potential inherent to fanaticism.
We can now examine the connection between the radical commitment inherent in fanaticism and the three-part antagonism cited by Olson, namely friends, moderates and enemies (Olson, 2007: 688). Both Olson and Toscano have observed the rationality behind fanatics’ refusal to negotiate, arguing that debate leaves moderates still undecided, allowing them to occupy a position of inaction that inadvertently reinforces the status quo (Olson, 2007: 690; Toscano, 2017: 26). In contrast, fanatics construct a binary antagonistic framework in which there is no space for a middle ground, reducing all positions to a stark opposition of pro versus con. However, the ineffectiveness of deliberation does not necessarily imply that constructing such a radical, exclusionary boundary – one that leaves no room for non-participation or neutral stances – will prove an effective means of mobilisation. This raises the question: why would moderates choose to align themselves with fanatics? The answer, in our view, lies in the profound connection between the radical commitment of fanaticism and the transformation of the three-part antagonistic frontier into a two-part antagonistic one. This transformation is driven by a willingness to sacrifice oneself (and/or others), a refusal to negotiate, and a radical commitment to particular ends. The strategic purpose of this willingness to sacrifice and refusal to compromise is to construct an image of an especially dangerous enemy. This creates a situation in which even moderates, despite their scepticism about the goal or the prospects of a utopian vision, can make a rational choice to side with the fanatics, as doing so becomes a form of self-preservation. Olson describes this dynamic through the historical example of the rhetorical tactic of disunionism, as employed by radical abolitionists during the American Civil War. The tactic sought to generate fear of secession and the destruction of political unity among the more moderate forces in the North. This fear ultimately outweighed the opposition to direct military confrontation with the South (Olson, 2007: 692–693).
Thus, fanaticism provides both hope – the immediate realisation of a utopian order (or, conversely, a postponement of the Apocalypse) – and fear, the fear of being on the opposing side of the forces driving the coming of Earthly Paradise. This dual dynamic – offering both promise and threat – forms a powerful mechanism of mobilisation, compelling moderates to align themselves with radical movements even when their own rational calculations might otherwise discourage them.
Fanaticism as a mode of political mobilisation in radical climate activism: The case of ‘the last generation’
As indicated earlier, one of the principal aims of this study is to propose a consistent and systematic concept of fanaticism that can be employed in contemporary research, rather than being confined to purely historical analyses. In this study, we examine the case of the radical climate movement Die Letzte Generation by analysing its press releases using qualitative content analysis as developed by Philip Mayring.
Let us justify this choice, beginning with the method itself. Qualitative content analysis in Mayring's version offers several clear advantages for the purposes of this research. First, it is explicitly oriented towards the deductive construction of categories and acknowledges the necessity and inevitability of a certain amount of preconceived knowledge about the subject under investigation (Mayring, 2021: 115–117). This makes Mayring's qualitative content analysis particularly suitable for our study, as it allows us to apply theoretically developed categories in advance when coding the texts, which corresponds directly to the underlying logic of our research design (Mayring, 2021: 158). At the same time, qualitative content analysis significantly facilitates the consideration of context, since context is understood primarily in communicative terms (Mayring, 2021: 61). In the present case, our aim is not to identify discursive forms of silence or exclusion, for which particular variants of discourse analysis would be more appropriate, but rather to capture observable manifestations of fanaticism.
We select Die Letzte Generation as our case study for at least two reasons. First, within post-Paris Agreement social movements that operate within the discursive framework of the Anthropocene, or alternative formulations such as the Capitalocene, one can readily observe a pronounced apocalyptic tone and a form of alarmism that is apparent even at a cursory level. Second, Die Letzte Generation has demonstrated 6 a clear commitment to non-conventional tactical practices, such as hunger strikes 7 and the tactic of gluing oneself to roads.
Press releases were selected as the primary data source because, unlike media coverage, which is more suitable for examining examples of the traditional approach to the concept of fanaticism, they contain the organisation's deliberate and thus strategically calibrated statements that interpret its actions and its participants from within. Accordingly, if we move beyond the one dimensionality of the traditional approach and, following Olson and Toscano, assume that fanaticism possesses, first, a political character and, second, a conscious and rational mode of mobilisation, our analysis must focus primarily on self portrayal rather than on the labelling imposed by opponents.
The central research question is therefore the following: can we conclude that the social movement The Last Generation employed a fanatical mode of mobilisation? More precisely, do the categories that we associate with the concept of fanaticism appear consistently in the movement's press releases? In order to address this question, we must first reconstruct the concept of fanaticism once again.
Fanaticism is a mode of construction of a political subject, or a form of political mobilisation, which, like populism, is based on the construction of an antagonistic frontier. Unlike populism, however, it seeks to avoid what has been termed a ‘dangerous victory’, that is, it aims to fix a specific and determinate meaning to the hegemonic element within the chain of equivalence, producing a pure signifier rather than the empty signifier characteristic of populism. It aspires to the immediate realisation of a utopian horizon, positions itself in opposition not only to its declared ‘enemies’ but also to moderates, represents the adversary as a moral evil, and demonstrates radical commitment. This commitment is signalled through claims of non-retreat and the absence of any alternative to confrontation, and is expressed through recourse to costly forms of collective action and through a readiness for self-sacrifice, as well as the willingness to impose sacrifice on others.
In accordance with this concept, the research question should be divided into several sub-questions. It should be stated at the outset that, in this paper, which is primarily oriented towards the formulation of a research framework, we will not be able to address each of these sub-questions in full, but will instead focus on one of them. Nevertheless, for the sake of methodological clarity, it is necessary to briefly outline all of these questions.
First, we can pose the question of how an antagonistic frontier is constructed in a fanatical mode of mobilisation. This question comprises two categories: first, the representation of the enemy as a moral evil; and second, the opposition of the movement to moderates and non-participants. A further question concerns radical commitment, which is expressed, first, in a readiness to sacrifice oneself and or others, and second, in a willingness to resort to non-conventional and costly tactics. Finally, there is the question of the pure signifier, which is articulated through, first, its non-negotiability, and second, its supreme priority, understood as the subordination or subsuming of other social demands.
The question we wish to address in this paper concerns the presence of the categories associated with the immediate realisation of a utopian horizon in the press releases of Die Letzte Generation. The concept of the immediate realisation of a utopian horizon is divided into three categories: first, immediacy; second, catastrophism; and third, demands for radical change. Before moving on to an analysis, it is necessary to make a few preliminary remarks.
First, as we have briefly noted earlier, we do not distinguish here between utopian and dystopian dimensions. Despite the difference between an ‘apocalypse with a kingdom’ (Davidson, 2025: 482) and one without, we argue that preventing an apocalypse in itself presupposes the realisation of a utopian dimension, a radical attempt to alter the course of history. A more thorough investigation of the political apocalypticism inherent in fanaticism would, however, require a separate study.
Second, we intuitively assume that, in a more extensive study, situations of double coding could arise, for example, between the characteristics of the pure signifier and radical commitment. We suggest that such complexities can be addressed in two ways. First, by refining categories after engagement with the empirical material, which nonetheless does not negate the need for their initial theoretical construction. Second, by recognising that these difficulties are partly inherent in the fact that the agent making the statement is not presented, at the moment of expression, with the distinction between the macro level of discourse and the micro level of specific tactical decisions. We may now proceed to the analysis:
‘The political programs being discussed are leading us into climate collapse – because they are slow, subservient to economic interests, and hypocritical. With continued political small-scale tinkering, tipping points in the climate system will be reached. We therefore have to exit the fossil system within the next few years’, said Henning Jeschke. (Letzte Generation, 2021a).
The preceding quotation is part of a press release issued by Last Generation on 19 October 2021. Following a hunger strike, which functioned as a founding moment for the movement, activists from Last Generation succeeded in securing a meeting with the German Chancellor, Olaf Scholz.
This episode can be read as a clear example of the ‘immediate realisation of a utopian horizon’. Through qualitative discourse analysis, this logic can be divided into three subcategories:
Immediacy: linguistic units that correspond to urgency, the lack of time to delay, no time for postponement. Catastrophism: linguistic units that denote catastrophe, its approach, apocalypse, destruction of all living beings, radical worsening of human living conditions, famine, wars. Demands for radical change: linguistic units that denote demands for radical, comprehensive changes, rejection of business-as-usual, reformism, and gradualism.
Henning Jeschke argues that business as usual, gradual reformism, and the subordination of climate objectives to external considerations, in this case economic ones, ultimately lead to climate catastrophe. Action is therefore required immediately. Meaningful change is only possible within the span of a few years, and such change must be profoundly radical, taking the form of an exit from the fossil system.
‘Immediate realisation of a utopian horizon’ constitutes a recurring pattern in the public statements of Last Generation. As Carla Hinrichs, a law student from Bremen and a spokesperson for the movement, states: ‘We do not want to be here today. But we cannot put our children on this deadly school bus. We have only two to three years left to avert the deadly catastrophe. The government must act now’ (Letzte Generation, 2022c). The metaphor of the school bus originates with the climate scientist Professor Hans Joachim Schellnhuber, who formulates it as follows: ‘I tell you, we are pushing our children into a global school bus with a 98% probability of a fatal crash’ (Letzte Generation, 2022b). This metaphor represents a repeatedly occurring trope in press releases issued by Last Generation.
Demands for radical change appear explicitly in the statements of Last Generation, typically framed in comparison with the logic of business-as-usual, as in the statement by Henning Jeschke mentioned earlier, and, for example, in the ultimatum letter of 15 February 2022 addressed to the German government, the Bundestag, and Chancellor Scholz: ‘The highway blockades, part of the latter category, are intended to make visible the need to halt business-as-usual and initiate a systemic transition’ (Letzte Generation, 2022d).
Demands for radical change are being expressed not only in opposition to business-as-usual but also against more moderate allies of the movement. This is evident in the press release of 28 December 2021, concerning actions in support of the Food Rescue Law in Germany: ‘There has been silence from the government regarding these demands. Only the Green Party leaders Annalena Baerbock and Robert Habeck responded in recent days. They agreed with the goals of the Last Generation. We are pleased about that. However, they mentioned no concrete measures and wanted only “30% organic agriculture” by 2030 instead of 100% regenerative agriculture. That is not enough to secure the population's food supply’ (Letzte Generation, 2021c).
We clearly observe the immediate realisation of a utopian horizon, which constitutes one of the features of a fanatical mode of mobilisation and, to paraphrase Toscano, represents an extreme instance of fanaticism. At the same time, within the scope of this small-scale study, it is not possible to populate the fanatical mode of mobilisation with the full range of necessary empirical data. Outside the present analysis remain the ways in which an antagonistic frontier is constructed, portraying the opponent as morally evil (e.g., ‘Your companies from Germany are causing a genocide in the Global South – even today’; ‘We have three to four years to … change [famines and wars over food], and you just confirmed yourself that we are talking about billions of people dying’ (Letzte Generation, 2021b)), as well as the modes of expressing radical commitment, which appear both in the choice of tactics (such as hunger strikes or glueing actions) and in statements (e.g., ‘The campaign announced that it would keep expanding the disruptions until the federal government under Olaf Scholz takes action’ (Letzte Generation, 2022a)), and as a non-negotiable pure signifier, manifested in the refusal to subordinate the goals of climate resistance to other democratic, economic, or alternative logics. An example of such a non-negotiable signifier may be found in a press release by Die Letzte Generation concerning the outbreak of the Russian–Ukrainian war in 2022: ‘Today is a dark day for the people of Europe. We regard the current events in Ukraine as a human catastrophe and are deeply shaken. Our thoughts are with the victims and those under threat in Ukraine. … At the same time, one crisis does not cancel out another. The emergence of one catastrophe does not make another any less devastating or life-threatening. … The physical foundations of the climate catastrophe have not changed. We still have two to three years to prevent the destruction of civilisation, the loss of our values and institutions, and immeasurable human suffering. We still have a few years to initiate the necessary, far-reaching transformations’ (Letzte Generation, 2022e). 8
Thus, we contend that the aforementioned analysis demonstrates the fruitfulness of the post-foundational concept of fanaticism we advance, while also pointing to the need for further work in data collection, the empirical elaboration of the concept, the formulation of hypotheses concerning relations between variables, the construction of causal linkages, and the empirically oriented differentiation of the phenomenon into distinct subtypes, which, in turn, will contribute to refining the theoretical premises themselves, for instance by indicating which properties of fanaticism are substantial, that is, present in typical cases, and which are extreme or deviant, that is, accidental or contingent, applicable only to a given particular case.
Conclusion: The post-foundational notion of fanaticism and its research perspectives
The post-foundational understanding of fanaticism can now be delineated. Fanaticism represents a logic of political mobilisation, or a method of constructing the political subject, that is fundamentally rooted in antagonism. Rather than being compared to normative models of democracy – whether deliberative or agonistic – or to political ideologies such as liberalism or conservatism, fanaticism is better understood in relation to populism. Like populism, it constructs a chain of equivalence that divides the social sphere into two opposing camps. However, in contrast to populism, fanaticism seeks to occupy the space of hegemonic articulation with a specific, concrete signifier – a pure signifier – avoiding the transformation of particular discursive content into an empty signifier. This avoidance reflects a rejection of the limitations of the ‘dangerous victory’. Fanaticism's commitment to maintaining a particular signifier as hegemon is achieved through a radical devotion, characterised by a willingness to make sacrifices and an uncompromising refusal to negotiate, combined with a focus on the immediate realisation of a utopian, non-antagonistic social state. Notably, both the utopian impulse and the radical commitment associated with fanaticism should be regarded as rational strategies for political mobilisation, rather than as the outcome of an irrational or purely moral dedication on the part of its adherents.
Why might the concept of fanaticism be necessary in modern social sciences? First, it is essential to differentiate between various forms of radical political strategies. While populism, as a political phenomenon, has been subject to extensive theoretical and empirical scrutiny, fanaticism remains comparatively underexplored. Populism benefits from a substantial body of work, including Ernesto Laclau's systematic theory, as well as significant contributions from scholars such as Nadia Urbinati (2019), Moffitt and Tormey (2014), Cas Mudde (2004), and Margaret Canovan (1981, 1999), whose influential and coherent analyses have become foundational in the field. In contrast, the theoretical framing of fanaticism is less developed, leaving a critical gap in understanding its distinct logic and mobilising potential.
Over the past decade, particularly following the wave of anti-austerity protests, the fields of populism studies and social movement research have increasingly converged and, in some respects, overlapped. A notable development in this regard is Paris Aslanidis's concept of the Populist Social Movement, which seeks to capture the dynamics of post-austerity movements operating in an inclusive, catch-all manner, rather than being confined to narrowly defined social strata (Aslanidis, 2016: 304–307). Another significant area of inquiry concerns the analysis of movement parties, a hybrid political form that merges the horizontal organisational principles of social movements with the hierarchical and charismatic characteristics typical of populist political movements (Della Porta et al., 2017). An exemplary case is the party Podemos, which has engaged in a deliberate, self-reflective adoption of populist strategies, underpinned by a deep engagement with the theoretical insights of Chantal Mouffe and Ernesto Laclau (Chironi and Fittipaldi, 2017; De Nadal, 2020).
Simultaneously, some of the more radical social movement organisations (term coined by Fitzgerald and Rodgers (2000)) remain outside the focus of mainstream research or are dismissed with pejorative labels such as ‘extremism’, fundamentalism’, or ‘fanaticism’, particularly within traditional approach. Revisionist approach provides a foundation for developing a theoretical understanding of fanaticism that aligns with contemporary scholarly needs. However, such approaches often lack systematic coherence and tend to focus predominantly on historical examples, such as radical abolitionists, Anabaptists, or Bolsheviks. We propose that the framework outlined here could be effectively applied not only to historical cases of fanaticism but, more importantly, also to contemporary instances. Radical environmental and climate movements, for example, increasingly exhibit characteristics suggestive of a transition towards a fanatic mode of articulation.
In this article, in order to demonstrate the operationalisability of the proposed concept of fanaticism, we conducted an analysis of statements drawn from the press releases of the movement The Last Generation. The aim was to examine whether categories of fanaticism, understood as a mode of political mobilisation, are present in their texts. Within the scope of this circumscribed study, we focused on the issue of the immediate realisation of a utopian horizon, which is clearly supported by the sources analysed. However, while the evidence remains prelimenary at this stage, the remaining categories are present in the press releases of Die Letzte Generation, which confirms the need for further and more in-depth analysis.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I extend my gratitude to my teacher, Oliver Marchart, for his support, meticulous reading of my work, valuable comments, and giving this project a chance. I am thankful to Sergej Seitz for his support, insightful comments, and genuine interest in my work. My appreciation goes to all participants of the Political Theory Colloquium at the University of Vienna for their patient reading of drafts, as well as their questions, comments, and cautions. I am indebted to Ilya Budraitskis for his wise guidance of my MA thesis, from which this project eventually developed. I also thank Artemy Magun for introducing me to Alberto Toscano's work on fanaticism during the 2021 colloquium at the European University at Saint Petersburg. Finally, my deepest thanks go to my wife, Nina Viaznikova, for her endless patience and dedication in proofreading and editing my texts.
Funding
The author(s) disclosed receipt of the following financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article: The author received financial support for Open Access publication of this article from University of Vienna.
Declaration of conflicting interests
The author declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Data availability statement
Data sharing is not applicable to this article as no datasets were generated or analysed during the current study.
