The city in a
time of plague
History teaches us that epidemics are more like
revelatory moments than social transformers
By Pepe Escobar
The plague-stricken town, traversed
throughout with hierarchy, surveillance,
observation, writing; the town immobilized
by the functioning of an extensive power
that bears in a distinct way over all
individual bodies – this is the utopia of
the perfectly governed city.
– Michel Foucault,
Discipline and Punish
April 20, 2020 "Information
Clearing House" -
Predictably
eyeing the Decline and Fall of the American Empire, a
serious academic debate is raging around the working
hypothesis of historian
Kyle Harper, according
to whom viruses and pandemics – especially the
Justinian plague in the
6th century – led to the end of the Roman
Empire.
Well, history actually teaches us that epidemics are
more like revelatory moments than social transformers.
Patrick Boucheron, a crack historian and a
professor at the esteemed College de France, offers a
very interesting perspective. Incidentally, before the
onset of Covid-19, he was about to start a seminar on
the Black Death medieval plague.
Boucheron’s view of Boccaccio’s Decameron,
written in 1350 and about young Florentine aristocrats
who fled to the Tuscan countryside to tell stories,
focuses on the plague’s character as a “horrible
beginning” that tears apart social liaisons, provokes a
funerary panic and has everyone wallowing in anomie.
Then he
draws a historical parallel with Thucydides writing
about the
Athens plague in the
summer of 430 BC. Pushing it to the limit, we may
venture that Western literature actually
starts with a plague –
described in Book 1 of the Iliad by Homer.
Thucydides’ description of the Great Plague – actually
typhoid fever – is a literary tour de force as well. In
our current setting, that’s more relevant than the
“Thucydides trap” controversy
– as it’s idle to compare the context in ancient Athens
with the current US-China hybrid war.
Both Socrates and Thucydides, incidentally, survived
the plague. They were tough, and acquired immunity from
their earlier exposure to typhoid. Pericles, the leading
citizen of Athens, was not so lucky: he died at 66, a
victim of the plague.
The city in fear
Boucheron
wrote an immensely interesting book,
Conjurer la Peur
(To Conjure Fear) telling the story of Siena a few years
before the Black Death, in 1338. This is the Siena
pictured by Ambrogio Lorenzetti in the walls of the
Palazzo Pubblico – one of most spectacular allegorical
frescoes in history.
In his book, Boucheron writes about political fear
before it is engulfed by biological fear. Nothing could
be more contemporary.
In Lorenzetti’s Allegory of Bad Government, the court
of bad justice is governed by a devil holding a poisoned
chalice (today that would be the “crowned poison” – or
coronavirus). The devil’s eyes are crossed and one of
his feet is over a goat’s horns. Floating above his head
we find Avarice, Pride and Vainglory (match them with
contemporary political “leaders”). War, Treason, and
Fury sit to his left (the US Deep State?) and Discord,
Fraud and Cruelty on his right (casino capitalist
financialization?). Justice is bound, and her scales
have fallen. Talk about an allegory of the
“international community.”
Boucheron
pays special attention to the city as depicted by
Lorenzetti. That’s the city at war – as opposed to the
harmonious city in the
Allegory of Good Government.
The crucial point is that this is a depopulated city –
much like our cities in quarantine now. Only men at arms
are circulating and, as Boucheron tells it: “We guess
that behind the walls, people are dying.” So this image
has not changed today – deserted streets; quite a few
elderly people dying in silence in their homes.
Boucheron
then makes a startling connection with the frontispiece
of Hobbes’s
Leviathan,
published in 1651: “Here again there is a city
depopulated by an epidemic. We know because at the
borders of the image we identify two silhouettes with
birds’ beaks, which represent the doctors of the
plague,” while the people in the city have been sucked
upward, ballooning the figure of the Leviathan state
monster who is very confident of the fear he inspires.
Boucheron’s conclusion is that the state is always
capable of obtaining an absolutely unprecedented
resignation and obedience from the population. “What’s
complicated is that even if what everything we say about
the society of surveillance is scary and true, the state
obtains this obedience in the name of its most
undisputed function, which is to protect the population
from creeping death. That’s what plenty of serious
studies define as ‘biolegitimacy’.”
And I would add, today, a biolegitimacy boosted by
widespread voluntary servitude.