"An Archaeology of Evil"

“Le droit à la philosophie passe peut-étre désormais par une distinction entre plusiers regimes de la dette, entre une dette finie et une dette infinie… ”
- Jacques Derrida,
Le droit à la philosophie du point de vue cosmopolitique

"In Aeschylus there is always, adjoined to man, a symbol, an element that feeds on mankind, which is frighteningly alive. In the Oresteia this element is evil (this would be the literal sense of fleur du mal)”, Seferis notes in his Days IV, dated March 1st, 1941. He is reading Aeschylus in a time of war. I would suggest we keep this comment by the Greek poet as a modern guide for our own theatrical reading of Aeschylus. This reading is also taking place during a time of war; a war against “the powers of Evil”. I don’t claim that Aeschylus’ Evil coincides with the tragic events of September 11th and the even more tragic globalization of fear and insecurity, from New York to Jenin. The bipolar interpretations of Good-Evil have their own history and their own historicity in time and space. I do believe, however, that Aeschylus has again become current. In opposition to this cannibalistic Evil he has created the concept of Justice, in order to show us that the only possible way to defeat Evil is to draw it into the dialectic of Justice, of Duty, indeed of Democracy itself. Aeschylus creates the first court and forces us to constantly remember that democratic judgment is the only defense against Evil, the only way to control the perpetrators, the only way to honor the victims. Today, when hunger, violence, economic inequity and social exclusion plague so much of humanity, this new “Internationale of Justice”, which was so deeply rooted in Jacques Derrida’s thought, is more than ever necessary to protect ourselves from Evil, in order to fortify our democracies. The “cycle of blood” cannot come to a close unless we consider the causes of hate, their ethical and political connotations, and the concept of fulfilled and unfulfilled Duty.

Viewed from this vantage point, we did not select Aeschylus: he selected us. He had already done so when he made his characters swim in “blood-baths”, when he called the witnesses to court, when he transformed the Erinyes into Eumenides. He asked us to place ourselves across from the victims and the perpetrators, to face the consequences of our actions, to bear the burden of democratic justice. So we return to Aeschylus, accepting the responsibilities of this dialogue, in order to discuss the problems of democracy. This too is the responsibility of theatre, because theatre, like justice, is inconceivable without democracy. The two concepts are linked by dialogue and reflection on extreme human experiences. Based on these extreme experiences, Aeschylus has created a concept of Justice as a constant process of mourning and obligation: mourning for the victims and an obligation to humanize the world.

Aeschylus’ theatre is the scene of an archaeological dig, which reveals various finds from the civilization of human violence. We tried to keep this theatrical spirit by creating a genealogy of the cycles of blood, an “archaeology of Evil”, in order to portray its destructive powers but also to highlight mankind’s constant and tragic struggle to control this power. However, our reading does not intend to become a messianic theatre, one which builds false hope and expectations. Evil, this monster “that feeds on mankind” as Seferis put it, is not defeated by wishes and well-intentioned calls for a better tomorrow. Theatre is an artistic route that poses questions rather than providing solutions. So we chose to include in our Aeschylan dialectic other voices, voices of literary figures such as Kavafis, Eliot and Seferis. We felt that these voices were connected in their sorrow and their criticism of a world, which was surrendering to Evil without resistance. The echoes of these voices are a useful compass for today’s inhabitant of the Waste Land. “We are all inhabitants of the Waste Land: you and I and anyone who has some comprehension of evil and disaster” claims Seferis. In a sense, this production attempts to remind us all of this painful cohabitation. If this kind of theatre is an attempt to compare our traumatic experiences through the language of art, perhaps we are on the right path for the recovery of the thread of ancient theatre, but from a new perspective: not as a museum relic, but as a modern political and cultural critique. Viewed this way, an Aeschylan archaeology of Evil presents us with more essential problems than the simplistic and manichaistic rhetoric of “the axis of Evil”. This new, yet simultaneously ancient, art of criticism can make us more aware as viewers and – why not – more active as citizens. This too is an unfulfilled Duty.