The real enmity of Carl Schmitt’s concept of the political

War and the political

The problem that motivates Schmitt’s analysis of the political is the problem of depoliticisation. Schmitt’s most explicit comments on the process of depoliticisation occur in the 1929 lecture The Age of Neutralizations and Depoliticisations, a lecture that one commentator has, somewhat hyperbolically, called ‘the most disturbing counter-revolutionary manifesto ever written’ (Balakrishnan, 2000: 125). Within this lecture, Schmitt charts the historical process through which the political has become downgraded and, increasingly, neutralised leading to what he calls the age of depoliticisation. More specifically, Schmitt (1996b: 82) mentions a four-stage movement whereby the political was first replaced by the theological so that the political was collapsed into and so defined by the theological, which then morphed into the metaphysical so that questions of metaphysics pre-determined or gave inspiration to the political. In turn, the metaphysical view morphed into the humanitarian, meaning that humanistic concerns oriented the political, which was subsequently overcome by the rise of economics so that the question of the political became associated with ‘unbiased economic management’ (Schmitt, 2005: 65). By subordinating the political to the economic or, put differently, thinking the political from the economic, Schmitt (1996b: 82) claims that the question of the political has not only been forgotten, but politics itself has now become nothing but a dry, sterile discourse based on techno-calculative considerations of economic worth. Schmitt’s analysis of the political aims to combat this depoliticisation by showing that the essence, or being, of the political cannot be collapsed into other disciplines, but must be revealed in its distinctiveness. In turn, this reveals the conception of the political required to reverse the depoliticisation process. In other words, Schmitt’s analysis of the political serves two purposes in that it aims to reveal (1) the essence of the political and so secure a place for the political among other disciplines, and (2) how the political, and politics, must be thought and structured so as to reverse the depoliticisation process.

Rather than define the political negatively, Schmitt (1996a) looks to provide a ‘positive’ definition of it (p. 26). This brings him to conclude that the political is defined by the friend–enemy distinction, which emanates from a sovereign decision regarding the existential threat posed by a concrete other. The friend–enemy distinction is, for Schmitt, unique to the political and distinguishes it from other spheres such as the moral, defined by the good/bad oppositions, and the aesthetic, defined by the beautiful/ugly opposition. While this secures a unique domain for the political, Schmitt (1996a: 29, 37, 38) quickly goes beyond this by suggesting that the political distinction is the fundamental distinction upon which all others depend. The political does not simply exist alongside other associations; it is the ‘foundational’ association from where other associations emanate and that to which they return if their individual associations intensify to the level of the political. This means, as Michael Marder (2012: 65) explains, that ‘every sphere is potentially political or politicisable due to a possible increase in the intensities of association and dissociation structuring it’. In other words, each association is distinct but exists on a continuum defined by differing degrees of intensity with the political antagonism being the most intense. This does, however, lead to two questions: (1) what does intensity refer to? and (2) what brings the other to be thought of as a friend or enemy?

Schmitt’s fight against depoliticisation requires that he not only identifies a unique place for the political in relation to the non-political but that he also outlines the relationship between the political and non-political. To achieve both, Schmitt (1996a) thinks from the notion of ‘intensity’ (p. 26). As he explains, ‘the distinction of friend and enemy denotes the utmost degree of intensity of a union or separation, of an association or dissociation’. The political does not simply exist alongside other associations; it is the ‘foundational’ association from where other associations emanate and that to which they return if their individual associations intensify to the level of the political. In other words, each association is distinct, but exists on a continuum defined by differing degrees of intensity with the political antagonism being the most intense.

Despite the important role it plays in his theory, Schmitt never provides a definition of ‘intensity’ nor does he provide an extended discussion of it. It is, therefore, a matter of piecing together the comments he makes on the issue to try to provide an explanation of it. For Schmitt (1996a), each association is defined in terms of the ‘intensity of an association or dissociation of human beings’ (p. 38), meaning the strength of the bonds that bind the various members of an association. As the most intense association, the bonds of the political are stronger than those found in non-political associations. Importantly, the sources of this intensity are multiple insofar as

the political … derive[s] its energy from the … religious, economic, moral, and other antithesis. It does not describe its own substance, but only the intensity of an association or dissociation of human beings whose motives can be religious, national (in the ethnic or cultural sense), economic or of another kind and can effect at different times different coalitions and separations. (Schmitt, 1996a: 38)

The strength of the bond that binds the members of the political association is, therefore, far greater than found in other associations. As Schmitt (1996a) puts it,

the real friend-enemy grouping is existentially so strong and decisive that the non-political antithesis, at precisely the moment at which it becomes political, pushes aside and subordinates its hitherto religious, purely economic, purely cultural criteria and motives to the conditions and conclusions of the political situation at hand. (p. 38)

Once a non-political association intensifies to that of a political one, its previous religious/economic/cultural identity becomes subordinate to the political situation at hand, that is, deciding on who is a friend and who is an enemy to ensure existential survival.

To explain why this is the case, we have to turn to the events that bring forth a political association. While Schmitt is clear that the specifics that bring forth each are different and multiple, he does point to two specific causes of the political: (1) the threat of death and (2) the chosen values of the community that create an interpretative schema through which it understands itself and its world. The political association is so intense, both in the sense of a state of being and the actions involved, because it is intimately connected to the threat of being physically killed and is, therefore, always related to an existential threat (Schmitt, 1996a: 37). As Schmitt (1996a) explains, ‘the friend, enemy, and combat concepts receive their real meaning precisely because they refer to the real possibility of physical killing’ (p. 33), meaning that it is ‘only in real combat [that] the most extreme consequence of the political grouping of friend and enemy [is revealed]. From this most extreme possibility human life derives its specifically political tension’ (Schmitt, 1996a: 35). The intensity of the political results, therefore, from the threat of existential annihilation. As Jesse Sims (2005) explains, ‘the existential possibility of physically killing the actual other human being turns out to be the truly irreducibly political concept in Schmitt, and it is only qua political that it finds its justification’ (p. 234). The possibility of being physically annihilated not only binds the members together but does so in a state of the highest tension, that is, an intense state of being.

But it is not simply the possibility of being killed that brings forth the intensity of the political association. The actions of the other must also be perceived in such a way that they are interpreted as entailing a threat to the existence of the community. It is only if the other is perceived to be a threat that the various members will intensify their bonds to that of a political association. As Schmitt (1996a) puts it,

the political does not reside in the battle itself … but in the mode of behaviour which is determined by this possibility, by clearly evaluating the concrete situation and thereby being able to distinguish correctly the real friend and the real enemy. (p. 37)

The designation of the other as an enemy requires that the individual knows what the other is intending. It is only if the individual knows that the other is threatening that he will designate the other as an enemy. While the other must act, the meaning of this act is dependent upon the interpretative framework through which it is evaluated. In other words, it is only if the other’s actions are interpreted in such a way that they are designated as a threat that the members of the political community will intensify their association to deal with this perceived threat. While Schmitt (1996a) warns that the specifics must be worked out by the individuals involved, he is clear that a political association requires, as a minimum condition, that the other is ‘the stranger … [who is] in a specially intense way, existentially something different and alien’ (p. 27). This requires that the other be perceived to be a stranger. This perception is far from neutral or ‘objective’, but emanates from and depends upon a number of different ‘subjective’ interpretative decisions regarding various values including descriptions of the self and other, including the other’s actions and intentions, and prescriptions as to how social relations with the other should take place. It is only by interpreting the actions of the other in a particular way that the other will be interpreted as posing a threat. As a consequence, the designation of the other’s action is dependent on the perception of the political community, which is defined by the values it has chosen to define itself by. It is for this reason that the political is linked to the chosen spiritual values of the community.

David Pan is one of the few commentators to note the important role that spiritual values play in the Schmittian political decision. For Pan (2008), violence and power relations against the other may be important factors ensuring the survival of the political decision, but they are always undertaken from and within particular parameters which reflect ‘a culture’s self-understanding of its values’ (p. 51). The political association is not concerned simply with killing the other or defending itself from the threat of the other; it does so to conserve a way of life. For this reason, the political decision regarding the other is always ‘expressed in terms of cultural assumptions about the final goals of a society’ (Pan, 2008: 50). In other words, the political association is dependent not simply on the actions of the other, that is, whether he poses an immediate physical threat, but also on whether he is perceived to do so, a perception that depends upon each community having adopted a particular understanding of how the world is and should be. This is the foundational aspect of the Schmittian political for it is through the chosen symbolic and spiritual values that each political community interprets the actions of the other. It is this that determines whether the other encountered is perceived to be a threat or not. The pre-reflective values decided upon by each political community create a political disposition that defines the values, meaning and purpose of each, which is used to evaluate and interact with the other. It is this schema that allows ‘the actual participants [to] correctly recognise, understand, and judge the concrete situation and settle the extreme case of conflict’ (Schmitt, 1996a: 27).

There are, therefore, two ‘causes’ of the intensity of the political association. While the threat of being killed is an ‘external’ ‘cause’ of the political association, this external threat is dependent on the actions of the other being perceived as being threatening and so is dependent upon an ‘internal’ cause in the form of the interpretative framework, constituted by the chosen values and modes of behaviour, that defines each particular political community. In other words, the intensity of the political association depends on the actions of others and the chosen values and spiritual life of the community. The actions of the other alone are not sufficient to bring forth the intensity of the political association; they depend on being perceived in a particular way with this perception depending on a background interpretative framework that brings the ego to perceive that the actions of the other are a threat. Similarly, the concreteness of the political association means that the other’s actions are necessary to ensure an actual enemy rather than simply one imagined (Schmitt, 1996a: 27–28). For this reason, Silke-Maria Weineck’s (2009) criticism that any identification of an enemy ‘is most likely an overdetermined psychic construction rather than the essential threat Schmitt theorizes’ (p. 213) fails to understand the way Schmitt’s thinking on the political is based in and from the concrete actions of the other. Schmitt (1996a) makes this clear when he claims that

the friend and enemy concepts are to be understood in their concrete and existential sense, not as metaphors or symbols, not mixed and weakened by economic, moral, and other conceptions, least of all in a private-individualistic sense as a psychological expression of private emotions and tendencies. (pp. 27–28)

The other is designated as an enemy because of his immediate, concrete actions, which are judged to pose an immediate existential threat to the life of the community. While the actions of the other are crucial to the political decision, this does not, however, mean that the community’s political identity is wholly relational (Kalyvas, 1999: 95; Lefebvre, 2005: 83). While this line of thinking brings to our attention the way the actions of the other are important to the political decision, it goes too far in affirming the importance of the other and fails to recognise that, for Schmitt, the political decision also emanates from and is undertaken to defend the spiritual values that the community has chosen to define itself by. The political decision is brought forth from the threat posed by the other and the desire on the part of the community to affirm chosen spiritual values. Importantly, what these entail will depend on the interpretative framework that each has chosen to define itself by. As Schmitt (1996b) explains, ‘every nation has its own concept of nation and finds the constitutive characteristics of nationality within itself, so every culture and cultural epoch has its own concept of culture. All essential concepts are not normative but existential’ (p. 85). The self-perception of the political association is defined by a particular form of understanding, which establishes modes of behaviour that bring each political community to interpret the actions of the other in a particular way. The political decision regarding the other is, therefore, rooted in both the decision of the community regarding its values and its relations to the other. While there certainly is an uneasy tension between the two aspects, thinking this tension is one of the challenges posed by Schmitt.

Schmitt uses ‘intensity’ as the criterion to both distinguish and join the political and non-political, a double-bind that secures a unique place for the political while privileging it over the non-political so that the political is identified as that from where the non-political emanates and that to which it points. In other words, Schmitt turns what initially appears to be a difference in kind into a difference in degree whereby, for example, religion, while fundamentally different to the political, is not absolutely distinct because the antagonism it is structured around can intensify towards the political friend–enemy division. If it undergoes this intensification and does, in fact, manage to define its friend and enemy, it turns from a religious discipline to a political one. Schmitt’s use of intensity as the criterion to distinguish between the political and non-political associations indicates continuums between and ‘within’ the various individual associations. While we have seen that there are various associations which exist on a continuum distinguished by their degree of intensity with the political association designated as the most intense, each form of association, whether political, moral, religious or economic, is itself differentiated into various forms. In other words, while the political is distinguished from the religious, there are many forms of the political and religious that are distinguished from one another by virtue of the degree of intensity contained ‘therein’.

Support for this is found from two sources. First, Schmitt (1996a) claims that ‘the high points of politics are … the moments in which the enemy is, in concrete clarity, recognised as the enemy’ (p. 67). The implication being that there can be ‘low’ points of politics wherein the enemy is ‘vaguely’, as opposed to clearly, identified. Given that the political is defined by a reaction to the actions of the other, Schmitt is implicitly claiming that the higher the perceived imminent threat posed by the enemy, the more intense the political bond. Second, Schmitt (1996a) claims that the political association does not necessarily require an actual, immediate threat to create and bind its members, ‘an enemy exists only when, at least potentially, one fighting collectivity of people confronts a similar collectivity’ (p. 28, emphasis added), a point repeated shortly thereafter when Schmitt (1996a) claims that ‘the phenomenon of the political can be understood only in the context of the ever present possibility of the friend-and-enemy grouping’ (p. 35, emphasis added) and that ‘what always matters is only the possibility of conflict’ (Schmitt, 1996a: 39, emphasis added). In other words, the political enemy does not have to pose an immediate, concrete threat to the life of the community; the political association can be created if and when it perceives that the other potentially or possibly threatens it. If this were not the case, the political would be limited to life and death situations. While the political defined against an immediate, concrete threat is the most intense form of the political because the threat relates to the physical life of the community, Schmitt seems to admit that a political association can entail a slightly less intense form of association, defined by the potential for violence that threatens the life of the community. In turn, the notion of ‘life of the community’ also seems to entail two options, that is, whether it refers to the physical life of the community or the spiritual values and ideas that define that community. As such, the friend–enemy distinction exists on a continuum ranging from (1) a perceived, immediate threat of physical annihilation; (2) the perceived, possible threat of physical annihilation; (3) a perceived immediate threat to a way of life or cultural identity; and (4) the perceived possible threat to a way of life or cultural identity.

The designation of the enemy and, from this, the creation of the political are, therefore, oriented around (1) the perception of the threat that the other poses, itself created from the actions of the other and (2) the interpretative schema composed of the chosen values that define each political association. While the threat of violence is a key component of the creation and continued existence of the political, this is not to say that all forms of violence are political. It also does not mean that the political aims at the physical annihilation of the designated enemy. Indeed, we will see in later sections that the political actually depends on the continued existence of an adversary. Schmitt is clear on this in his rejection of absolute war and insistence that the political is conducted from and through a war against a ‘real’ not absolute enemy. Nevertheless, because the political is defined through the friend–enemy distinction, which is based on the (perceived) threat the other poses to the life of the community, Schmitt (1996a: 35) claims that it is constituted by an intimate relationship to violence, which, because the political is located at the level of the collective, aims at another social collective. For this reason, the political is intimately connected to war.

This relationship is unique to the political and re-enforces Schmitt’s attempt to identify a privileged place for the political. Indeed, Schmitt (1996a) claims that ‘a world in which the possibility of war is utterly eliminated, a completely pacified globe, would be a world without the distinction of friend and enemy and hence a world without politics’ (p. 35). However, as Ernst Wolfgang Böckenförde (1997: 6) points out, linking the political to war does not mean that Schmitt holds that the political aims at war. Confirming this, Schmitt (1996a) explains that

the definition of the political suggested here neither favours war nor militarism, neither imperialism nor pacifism. Nor is it an attempt to idealize the victorious war or the successful revolution as a ‘social ideal’, since neither war nor revolution is something social or something ideal. (p. 33)

War does not define the political because war always presupposes ‘that the political decision has already been made as to who the enemy is’ (Schmitt, 1996a: 34). Indeed, Schmitt’s (1996a) discussion of the relationship of the political and war aims to identify the formal conditions of the political to delineate its unique and distinctive traits. As noted, the political ‘only’ needs the possibility of war to be present for it to exist; it is not defined by war (pp. 34–35).

Schmitt’s description of war is, therefore, rather agnostic. He does not mourn its loss nor does he advocate it, but recognises that the antagonism inherent to the political requires an enemy and, thus, the possibility of war. Even pacifism, a doctrine that supposedly advocates the abolition of war is, for Schmitt (1996a: 36), thoroughly political because it has identified its enemy: war. Indeed, in clearly and explicitly identifying its enemy, pacifism meets Schmitt’s (1996a) definition of the ‘high point’ of politics and so is political in the most intense sense (p. 67). This is an interesting dialectical critique of pacifism that aims to show that the abolition of war can only be conducted through war, a position that re-affirms that being fought against. Pacifism does not and cannot achieve what it sets out to do because, first, those who advocate the abolition of war thereby define an enemy to be fought (i.e. war) and so perpetuate that which they seek to overcome. Second, pacifism, like all identity for Schmitt, obtains its identity relationally meaning it requires that which it fights against (i.e. war) to define itself. If it actually did achieve its aim, pacifism would subsequently lose its political meaning. Of course, pacifists may not be too worried about this, claiming that ending war is far more important than the continuation of their identity, but Schmitt’s point seems to be that (1) this relational identity is far more important to political groups than they typically realise, and (2) because the world is never static, the overcoming of war would never be forever. Pacifism would have to continue to defeat the possibility of war, meaning that it would always have to combat its enemy and so remain thoroughly political. As a consequence, Schmitt points out that, third, the political is resilient. Not only does the relational nature of identity mean the other through which a group is defined must continue to exist for the group identity to exist, but he also seems to be saying that the political will continue to rear its head. It is simply too foundational to be abolished. Far from being easily annihilated, the political must remain because the relational nature of identity means that a decision will be continually called for regarding how a community deals with alternative social values. The need to differentiate between friends and enemies is inevitable, an inevitability that Schmitt claims calls attention to the primordial importance of the political. Schmittian war is ultimately, therefore, a confrontation of social values and ideas.

Showing this requires that we start with Schmitt’s (1996a) insistence that ‘there exists no rational purpose, no norm no matter how true, no program no matter how exemplary, no social ideal no matter how beautiful, no legitimacy nor legality which could justify men in killing each other’ (p. 49). While this may be thought to call into question my assessment that Schmitt’s thinking on the relationship between war and the political entails a battle over values and ideas, Schmitt is here referring to the justification of war. When read in this manner, the above refers to the rejection of a priori standards that can determine whether and at what point the other becomes an enemy and so must be fought against. Schmitt rejects these a priori standards; the enemy becomes an enemy when recognised as such, with this recognition only coming when the other is perceived to be an existential threat to the community’s existence. No prior rule or norm can identify this, and for this reason, no rationality can determine, in advance, when it is necessary to identify the other as the enemy or when it is necessary to go to war (Schmitt, 1996a: 27). Importantly, a decision must be made regarding how the enemy-other is to be treated, which depends on the perception of the enemy. While we typically think that violent conflict has a unitary meaning or that there is only one way to understand violent conflict, Schmitt (2011) claims that this is because we have forgotten the history of war. For this reason, ‘the concept of war … has … become a problem’ (p. 37). To overcome it, Schmitt offers a tripartite understanding of enmity – called classical, real, and absolute – which correspond to different forms of war.

Classical, real and absolute enmity

Schmitt starts his analysis with the traditional notion of war, which is rooted in, what he calls, classical enmity. The form of war that derived from this form of enmity is intimately connected to the jus publicum Europaeum, which arose from the religious wars of the sixteenth to seventeenth centuries (Schmitt, 2006: 140). More specifically, it tried to temper these religious wars by limiting conflict through a number of heavily proscribed norms, including a number of static, immutable oppositions that clearly distinguished ‘between war and peace, combatants and non-combatants, enemy and criminal’ (Schmitt, 2007: 9), an international legal framework that re-enforced these ‘rules’, and a particular configuration of political entities whereby each state’s spatial limits were clearly demarcated. The consequence was that, for the first time, the notion of a state, as opposed to a mere sovereign individual, arose, both in the public consciousness and international law (Schmitt, 2006: 145). This enabled war to move from a private battle between two sovereigns or one conducted against the populace as had occurred in the religious wars, to battles between states represented by clearly defined armies. Importantly, accompanying this move was the acceptance that states can wage war and that this is not a criminal act; as Schmitt (2006) puts it, ‘war became somewhat analogous to a duel’ where each combatant recognised the worth of the other and treated him with respect (p. 141). As strange as it may sound given the brutality of the wars fought, there was, in other words, a humanisation of war. No longer was it simply the case that a populace was terrified or set upon by ‘outsiders’. Rather,

compared to the brutality of the religious and factional wars, which by nature are wars of annihilation wherein the enemy is treated as a criminal and a pirate, and compared to colonial wars, which are pursued against ‘wild’ peoples, European ‘war in form’ signified the strongest possible rationalization and humanization of war. (Schmitt, 2006: 142)

It was rational and human because it recognised the enemy as a jus hostis as represented by the personalised King. Two armies going to war were, in reality, two Kings going to war. It was, in other words, a battle between equals, who recognised themselves as equals (Schmitt, 2006: 143–144). While the enemy was to be defeated, they were not to be annihilated nor were they to be criminalised.

Furthermore, while a private duel was based on a number of pre-reflective norms that shaped its content and form and distinguished it from pure aggression or crime, it was further distinguished because it was, in a sense, subject to witnesses who ensured the ‘rules’ were followed and, subsequently, recognised the victor. Similarly, in the jus publicum Europaeum, there were rules to warfare that distinguished it from pure military aggression, private hatred or simple crime, and these rules were, to a degree, enforced by the other European states that witnessed the war and recognised the victor. They had an interest in upholding conventional warfare because any infraction would potentially establish a new norm of warfare and a return to the barbarity of the religious wars that preceded it. While Schmitt is under no illusions regarding the horrors of war, he does think that the jus publicum Europaeum is a significant achievement, both in terms of warfare and in terms of international law, because, for the first time, it made clear distinctions that were capable of being judged. There was, in other words, self-censorship, insofar as each state purposefully and voluntarily limited their actions towards the enemy by recognising it as a jus hostis, and external censorship from the other European states which re-enforced a number of ‘norms’ (Schmitt, 2006: 143). The capacity to bracket hatred and confront the existential threat in a clear, ordered and disciplined manner was, as Schmitt (2006) puts it, ‘real progress’ (p. 14) that gave war ‘its justice, honour, and worth’ (Schmitt, 2011: 71). Indeed, in a later text, Schmitt (2007) goes further and claims that

with the bracketing of war, European humanity had achieved something extraordinary: renunciation of the criminalisation of the opponent, i.e., the relativisation of enmity, the negation of absolute enmity. That really was extraordinary, even an incredibly human accomplishment, that men disclaimed a discrimination and denigration of the enemy. (p. 90)

The religious wars that preceded the jus publicum Europaeum were, in contrast, wars of attrition where the enemy was moralised and/or criminalised meaning that he had to be annihilated to re-establish right. In many respects, Schmitt sees the jus publicum Europaeum as the high point of warfare which has subsequently been undone as warfare moves back to the moralisation of absolute enmity inherent to religious wars. This feeds into his critique of the depoliticisation process which far from making war more humane and unnecessary entails a moralisation/criminalisation of the enemy so that the enemy is perceived to be increasingly inhumane, a dangerous monster to be annihilated (Schmitt, 1996a: 36).

Importantly, the movement away from the regularity of the jus publicum Europaeum came, paradoxically enough, from an incursion by a regular army into another state that simply could not match the strength of the invader. Schmitt (2007) locates the movement in the Spanish guerrilla war of 1808 (p. 4). Rather than simply accept defeat, Schmitt claims that the defeated Spanish changed tactics, became irregular and so gave rise to the notion of the partisan. I mention this here because the notion of the partisan is intimately connected to the notion of real enmity. The partisan is a modern figure of warfare defined by a particular relationship to war and enmity (Schmitt, 2007: 10). More specifically, the partisan describes any non-state actor who resorts to violence or terror to pursue their stated political aims. Importantly, however, while the partisan is a non-state actor, each partisan is always dependent on, what Schmitt (2007) calls, ‘an interested third’, who is a state actor (p. 75). For this reason, the partisan operates outside of the state in the service of the state. He is distinguished from previous figures of warfare and, in particular, the figures that populated the jus publicum Europaeum because of his irregularity. Whereas the jus publicum Europaeum was constituted around strict rules of engagement, the partisan, while still being the member of a political union, does not conform to these strict rules. Schmitt (2007: 22) identifies four components of the partisan that distinguishes him from the regular soldier: (1) irregularity, (2) increased mobility, (3) political intensity and (4) telluric nature.

The partisan’s irregularity emanates from his dress and from his place in relation to the enemy. Whereas the armies of classic enmity wore their insignia in open-view, displayed their allegiance and engaged one another openly, the partisan hides or distinguishes himself. He does not wear a uniform, takes measures to conceal his identity and does not engage openly with the enemy (Schmitt, 2007: 14). For this reason, the partisan is highly mobile, utilising his speed and surprise to ambush the enemy. This is helped by the fact that the partisan operates in small groups that can move far more easily than the great armies of classical war. This is linked to the partisan’s intensity of engagement which is far greater than that of the regular soldier (Schmitt, 2007: 14). The partisan is not simply a paid soldier following orders, but is, to a degree, autonomous and innovative. The fight against the enemy can take place any time anywhere, meaning that the partisan is always ready for it. The final criterion that Schmitt identifies is the telluric nature of the partisan, meaning he is concerned with a particular political territory. More specifically, the partisan is always concerned with defending a particular territory (Schmitt, 2007: 92). It is this telluric link that ensures the partisan is distinguished from both the pirate and the thief. While all three are irregular, the partisan is oriented towards a public notion of territory that he aims to defend, whereas the pirate and thief are oriented solely towards private gain and, in the instance of the former, located at sea. Schmitt’s point in describing the partisan is not only to show how different forms of war arose but also to show that the arena of war has become much more heterogeneous. While the states of the jus publicum Europaeum were defined by clearly distinguished boundaries, the arrival of the partisan muddied the waters considerably. War is still ordered and defined, but the enemy combatants are much harder to identify. Combat becomes diversified in relation to its place of engagement, how it is fought and against whom it is oriented. Despite this additional complexity, however, Schmitt (2007) claims that the enemy of the partisan is treated and respected on his own terms. For this reason, ‘the partisan has a real … not an absolute enemy’ (p. 92).

Schmitt explains that the partisan’s real enmity takes on a particular form, one that tries to reconcile its intensive relationship to the enemy with a modified version of the strict rules inherent to the jus publicum Europaeum. More specifically, the partisan’s relationship to the enemy is based on the respect that the states have for one another in the jus publicum Europaeum, that is, the enemy-other is recognised as a political actor that has the right to wage war. ‘The enemy is on the same level as I’ (Schmitt, 2007: 85), and for this reason, the relationship between the partisan and the enemy-other is a political one based on the collective whole as opposed to private gain and linked to territory as opposed to individual wealth (Schmitt, 2007: 14). Furthermore, the partisan engages in an intense yet limited, or bracketed, engagement with the enemy-other (Schmitt, 2007: 89). This emanates from the notion of jus hostis which imposes certain rules and limitations on the participants. However, while the partisan’s real enmity shares these features with the jus publicum Europaeum, it is distinguished from classical enmity because of its irregularity, which means that war does not have to be waged through straightforward means or pre-determined arenas and by the partisan’s intensity, which means the partisan is more committed to his cause than the regular soldier of the jus publicum Europaeum.

For these reasons, Gabriella Slomp (2007: 203) explains that real enmity is unbound by the strict rules of the jus publicum Europaeum, but is not unbridled. Because the partisan is located in a particular political territory, the fight, while irregular, is constrained because it is conducted within specific spatio-temporal boundaries. This is instructive insofar as it calls attention to the way that the partisan’s notion of the enemy is distinguished from the strict rules of the jus publicum Europaeum. It does, however, lead Slomp (2009) to suggest that ‘Schmitt’s concept of limited enmity does not mean that enmity is limited in intensity but rather that it is limited to specific targets that are circumscribed in space and time’ (p. 11). While there is no doubt that the telluric nature of the partisan means that spatial constraints are an aspect of the factors that define his comportment towards the enemy and distinguish real and classical enmity (Slomp, 2007: 92), Slomp’s attempt to remove all intensive features seems a step too far. After all, it not only contradicts Schmitt’s claim that the partisan is far more intensively engaged than the state soldiers of the jus publicum Europaeum but also seems to ignore the fact that the partisan’s limitations are not necessarily quantitative, that is, he is not simply limited because he attempts to overcome a particular target that exists within spatio-temporal coordinates, but is also limited because he has a real enemy not an absolute enemy. Real enmity is, it will be remembered, in part defined by the intensity with which the political community views the enemy. In other words, while the jus publicum Europaeum and the real war of the partisan agree that the enemy is a legitimate opponent, the partisan engages with the enemy in an irregular manner as opposed to the regular manner of classical warfare and is more politically committed than the regular soldier. For this reason, the partisan fights an intense, irregular, mobile war against a regular army that, because it recognises that its opponent has certain values and worth, aims to defeat the enemy but does not aim at the annihilation of the enemy. In other words, the real enmity of the partisan is distinguished from the classical enmity of the jus publicum Europaeum by virtue of its irregularity and heightened intensity, but both entail less intensity than absolute enmity. Contra Slomp, therefore, the distinction between classical, real and absolute enmity cannot be reduced to differences in spatio-temporal reach, but is also determined by the intensity of the political community which, it will be remembered, is premised on the strength of the ties that bind the political community together, the values it has chosen to define itself from and through, and the actions of others.

Importantly, however, we also need to recognise that Schmitt (2007: 30) differentiates between the (1) autochthonous partisan and (2) global revolutionary partisan. So far, we have been talking about the former type of partisan who is tied to a particular spatio-temporal configuration and so is linked to a real enemy. The global revolutionary partisan, however, abstracts from this spatio-temporal configuration and fights a war over abstract principles that have global significance. There are, therefore, a number of differences between the two forms of partisan. Whereas the autochthonous partisan is telluric, limited and concrete, the global revolutionary is globally oriented, expansive and focused on the abstract. As a consequence, the autochthonous partisan wages a war against a real enemy, whereas a global revolutionary wages one against an absolute enmity, one that must be annihilated not simply defeated. There is, in other words, a ‘justa causa without recognition of a justus hostis’ (Schmitt, 2007: 30). For this reason, the global revolutionary partisan is intimately connected to absolute enmity and is, therefore, defined by a greater degree of intensity than the autochthonous partisan.

Absolute enmity is the most intense form of enmity entailing a thinking of the enemy that takes its cue from morality. Rather than accept an alternative way of doing things and/or the right of the state to conduct war as the jus publicum Europaeum and, to a lesser degree, real enmity accept, absolute enmity passes judgement on the actions of the enemy. This moralisation leads to a war that is

unusually intense and inhuman because, by transcending the limits of the political framework, it simultaneously degrades the enemy into moral and other categories and is forced to make of him a monster that must not only be defeated by also utterly destroyed. (Schmitt, 1996a: 36)

This ‘retreat from the juridical concept of justus hostis to a quasi-theological concept of the enemy’ (Schmitt, 2006: 124) has a dramatic impact on the way in which the enemy is perceived. The enemy is either demonised or criminalised, both of which mean that the other does not attain enemy status and so cannot be waged war against. As a consequence, ‘war is abolished, but only because enemies no longer recognise each other as equals, morally and juridically’ (Schmitt, 2006: 124). By taking its cue from morality rather than politics, absolute enmity not only contributes to the depoliticisation process Schmitt laments but also entails a far more savage and brutal form of warfare than the warfare of classical and real enmity.

In other words, Schmitt argues that the depoliticisation process does not lead to the abolition of war; it leads to the intensification of war as war based on the idea of justus hostis is replaced by a moralised notion of criminality that leads to far more intense conflict. This feeds into Schmitt’s attempt to show that morality is and must be grounded in a political decision. Politics must take precedence over morality because, if it does not, only brutality follows. This goes against many commonly held assumptions that see the moral realm as being in some way superior to the political or entailing a closer affinity to justice. In contrast, Schmitt sees it as an attempt to affirm universality, which can only lead to dogmatism, moralising judgement, criminalisation and the attempt to annihilate the other. From this we find that, for Schmitt, morality is structured around a same-other dichotomy with the moral other being wholly other, something that must be destroyed. For this reason, absolute enmity is the most intense form of engagement, the most ‘free’ and the most global. It is not constrained by ‘respect’ for the enemy, spatio-temporal concerns or international law. The absolute enemy is so dangerous that anything and everything must be done to annihilate it.

We will shortly see that Schmitt thinks there has been a drift towards absolute enmity, a drift that is a direct consequence of the depoliticisation process, but the point in highlighting the unbracketed intensity of absolute enmity is to not only outline as fully as possible Schmitt’s understanding of the different forms of political enmity but to also re-enforce my argument that the different types of enmity are differentiated by their spatio-temporal orientations and their degree of intensity. Reducing Schmitt’s analysis of enmity to distinctions between the spatial ambitions of the enemy fails to take into account the crucial role that intensity plays in Schmitt’s analysis of the political. It is only by recognising that the key distinctions between the jus publicum Europaeum, autochthonous partisan and global revolutionary partisan are due to differences in terms of their spatial orientation and degree of political intensity that we can distinguish between them and remain true to Schmitt’s claim regarding the increased intensity inherent to the partisan and absolute enmity. This leads to a hierarchy in which the jus publicum Europaeum has the least intensive political relationship to the enemy in that it respects the enemy and aims at defeat rather than annihilation, the real enemy has a more intense relationship, but continues to recognise some form of equality with the enemy and so brackets the conflict to defeat it not annihilate it, while the most intense relationship is the absolute enmity of the global revolutionary partisan who not only abstracts from a particular spatio-temporal territory but also moralises and obsesses over its abstract immoral enemy to the point that the only possible response to the enemy is for it to be annihilated. This relationship is the most intense for the simple reason that the global revolutionary partisan comes to hate the abstract other and becomes consumed by its hatred.

Slomp (2009: 91) rejects this hierarchy because she claims that all war entails killing and, because ‘nothing can be more intense than killing and dying’, all war is equally intense. Intensity, in other words, cannot be used to distinguish between different forms of war. What can distinguish between the forms of enmity is the size of the territory towards which the enmity is directed. However, it is not clear how Slomp can reconcile Schmitt’s differentiated understanding of the partisan (i.e. the partisan can be autochthonous or global) with his analysis of the different types of enmity/war and insistence that intensity distinguishes the political from the non-political. In other words, if Slomp is correct and the distinguishing feature of the different forms of enmity is their quantitative geographical scope, how does this fit into Schmitt’s insistence that the political – which is defined by the relationship to the enemy (and friend) – is defined from intensity? Surely, if the enemy is defined quantitatively, the political which is defined by the enemy should also be quantitatively defined; yet Schmitt insists it is qualitatively defined by virtue of entailing the greatest degree of antagonistic intensity.

What distinguishes the different types of enmity is not simply the act of killing or the breadth of territory upon which the enemy exists; this is part of all forms of warfare, but also the way in which the enemy is perceived and, from this, the way the combatants comport themselves towards each other. Slomp’s reduction of enmity to quantifiable spatio-temporal distinctions remains purely externally focused and is unable to account for how the perception of the enemy shapes the actions and understanding of each political community. As Schmitt (1996a: 34–35) reminds us, it is the understanding of the enemy that gives rise to the type of enmity that defines the political. The defining difference is not simply that the enemy of the conventional army is more geographically localised than the autochthonous real enemy which is a more geographically focused enemy than the globalised enemy of the revolutionary partisan, but that the enmity of classical war is also less intense than the real enmity of the autochthonous partisan which is less intense than the absolute enmity of the revolutionary partisan. This intensity results from the actions of the other which are interpreted through the spiritual values that the community has chosen to define itself by. It is only by placing intensity at the heart of the distinction that Schmitt’s (1996a: 36–37) understanding of the partisan can be made consistent with his differentiated understanding of war and analysis of the relationship between the political and non-political which, it will be remembered, claims that it is the intensity of the antagonism that distinguishes between the political and non-political. Slomp (2009) rejects this, however, because she claims that, if intensity is taken to be the distinguishing feature of the different types of enmity, ‘we would be bound to claim that the political for Schmitt assumes absolute enmity’ (p. 94). This argument is repeatedly found in the secondary literature, but is one that fails to understand the relationship between enmity, intensity and the political. To unravel this confusion, the concluding section turns to discuss the type of enmity that Schmitt associates with the political.

Conclusion: The political and real enmity

Schmitt’s point regarding the three forms of enmity is that, as the depoliticisation process has developed, this has not resulted in the disappearance of war, but rather it is opposite: the intensification of war. This conclusion has two-fold significance: first, it allows Schmitt to undertake a historical analysis that shows the way in which the depoliticisation process has led from the jus bellum of classical enmity to real enmity to absolute enmity. And second, from this, it allows him to combat the ‘myth’ that the abolition of the political will lead to a peaceful existence. The depoliticisation process has led to the intensification of war as the bracketing of war synonymous with the political is overtaken by the moral criminalisation of the enemy that arises when a judgement is based in and from morality. Schmitt (2007) is highly critical of the move towards the moralisation of the enemy seeing it as an occurrence that can only lead to ‘enmity becoming so frightening that perhaps one no longer should speak of the enemy or enmity, and both should be outlawed and damned in all their forms before the work of destruction can begin’ (p. 94). For Schmitt, the political enemy is always a real enemy, one who is fought against in relative terms, in accordance with a sense of soldierly respect which has the definite aim of defending defined territories. Only real enmity can stop the blood-letting that accompanies absolute enmity. As a consequence, Schmitt (2007: 92) advocates the return to a bracketed war and maintains that the partisan, and by extension political, is intimately connected to real enmity and war.

However, a number of commentators have expressed concern about the relationship between Schmitt’s use of intensity as the criterion that distinguishes the political from the non-political, his insistence that the political is the most intense antagonism and his subsequent affirmation of real enmity. Giovanni Sartori argues that because the political, based on the conflictually determined friend–enemy division, is privileged over other non-political antagonisms and that intensity is the criterion Schmitt identifies as the differentiator between the political and non-political, Schmitt can only conclude that (1) the political friend–enemy antagonism takes precedence over other non-political antagonisms, and (2) ‘within’ the political antagonism, there are degrees of intensity with absolute intensity being the ‘purest’ form of the political. If coherently adhered to, Schmitt’s arguments should, therefore, have led to ‘(i) “hot politics,” to conceiving politics as all the more authentic the more it was passionate, emotionally loaded and ideologically heated, and all the way to (ii) the absolute enemy, all the way to the foe’ (Sartori, 1989: 71–72). Because he does not follow this path, Sartori charges that Schmitt turns away from the logical conclusions his arguments point towards with the consequence that his analysis is logically inconsistent. For Sartori (1989), Schmitt’s conclusions can only lead to a politics of absolute destruction that reveal Schmitt’s lack of ‘moral scrupples’ (p. 67) and presumably his political affiliations. Richard Bernstein (2011: 418, 423) agrees with this assessment stating that that there is nothing in Schmitt’s conceptual categories that allows him to distinguish between real and absolute enmity in a way that allows him to privilege the former over the latter, while Kam Shapiro (2008: 71) agrees with the general orientation of these criticisms to conclude that it demonstrates that Schmitt’s justification for real enmity is simply arbitrary. Bernstein and Shapiro do, however, disagree on the reasons behind Schmitt’s unjustified preference for real enmity with Bernstein claiming that it is not simply arbitrary, but reveals that Schmitt’s thinking emanates from an implicit normative-moral stance, which, by making the political dependent on the moral, undermines the privileged place Schmitt gives to the political.

These criticisms are, however, based on a misunderstanding of the relationship between Schmitt’s conceptions of war and the political. While, on first appearance, their position may appear to reveal a logical inconsistency in Schmitt’s argument, insofar as he rejects the moralisation of the enemy that his intensity criterion seems to require, if we remember that Schmitt (1) is fighting against the depoliticisation process to identify an autonomous, privileged sphere for the political and (2) claims that the political friend–enemy distinction emanates from the possibility of an existential conflict from the other, we see that this is not the case. Given that Schmitt wants to maintain the political, he must find a way to maintain conflict and, through this, the friend–enemy distinction. The problem with the moralisation of the enemy is that it entails the desire to annihilate the enemy, an action that would kill him and, in doing so, lead to the annihilation of the political. As Schmitt (1996a: 49) explains,

as long as a people exists in the political sphere, this people must … determine by itself the distinction of friend and enemy … When it no longer possesses the capacity or will to make this distinction, it ceases to exist politically. (p. 49)

If the populace can no longer define itself from the friend and enemy because there are no longer enemies because it has killed them all, it ceases to exist politically. What would remain would not be ‘politics or state, but civilisation, economics, morality, law, art, entertainment etc.’ (Schmitt, 1996a: 53). Rather than a positive event, a world without the white heat of political conflict is a world of empty meaning and, on Schmitt’s understanding, a world conditioned by absolute enmity and the barbarity this entails. For this reason, Mathias Lievens (2013: 121) is correct to note that Schmitt’s analysis does not entail a call for blood-letting in the name of the state, but ‘a metapolitical struggle against depoliticising types of spirit or ways of thinking and for the particular spiritual form that makes conflicts political in the first place’. If it is the political that gives existence ultimate meaning, any attempt to abolish the conflict of the political in the name of peace would annihilate the fundamentally important aspect of our existence. If the enemy were annihilated, as absolute enmity demands, the distinction that conditions the political would also disappear and with it the political. To secure the existence of the political and fight the depoliticisation process, the political distinction must exist, which requires that the enemy continues to exist. Only real enmity allows this meaning that the continued existence of the political requires real enmity not absolute enmity. Because ‘the core of the political is not enmity per se, but the distinction of friend and enemy and the presupposition of friend and enemy’ (Schmitt, 1996a: 191), Schmitt is justified and logically consistent in insisting that the political be based on real, not absolute, enmity.