Abstract
The defining and centering concepts of space and time frame philosophy and political philosophy, but rarely are these concepts themselves explored. What then does it mean to think of time in political theory? Following the contemporary political theorist Sheldon Wolin, this dissertation asks, if common narratives are rupturing in a globalized world of interdependence and difference, what must take its place? What might be a complex account of time that can help us negotiate a world in which a common concept of time is splintering?
This dissertation begins with a reading of an account of temporal dissonance in an interrogation room in a military base in Afghanistan. It explores this encounter to argue that there are multiple, culturally distinct, accounts of time, and to show the ways in which the dominant concept of time in the Western tradition can discipline those that exist outside of it.
It then traces the emergence of this image of time through Christianity and Modernity, through a close reading of the writings of Augustine and Kant—both of whom are of particular interest as they are writing during periods of transformative change—where new faiths are emerging, where fundamental premises of the old order are eroding.
It then attempts to articulate a complex concept of time that emerges in fragments in the genealogy of political theory, particularly in the works of Bergson and Nietzsche. Each puts forward a concept of time that is attentive to memory and perception, in which the past does not disappear forever, but remains in our present and acts on it.
Finally, in its concluding section, this dissertation explores the politics of memory in Algeria, South Africa and Rwanda and asks, if the past is always present, how much of it should be remembered and how much forgotten? Can the grievous injuries of such brutal pasts be transformed for the sake of the politics of the future?
This dissertation begins with a reading of an account of temporal dissonance in an interrogation room in a military base in Afghanistan. It explores this encounter to argue that there are multiple, culturally distinct, accounts of time, and to show the ways in which the dominant concept of time in the Western tradition can discipline those that exist outside of it.
It then traces the emergence of this image of time through Christianity and Modernity, through a close reading of the writings of Augustine and Kant—both of whom are of particular interest as they are writing during periods of transformative change—where new faiths are emerging, where fundamental premises of the old order are eroding.
It then attempts to articulate a complex concept of time that emerges in fragments in the genealogy of political theory, particularly in the works of Bergson and Nietzsche. Each puts forward a concept of time that is attentive to memory and perception, in which the past does not disappear forever, but remains in our present and acts on it.
Finally, in its concluding section, this dissertation explores the politics of memory in Algeria, South Africa and Rwanda and asks, if the past is always present, how much of it should be remembered and how much forgotten? Can the grievous injuries of such brutal pasts be transformed for the sake of the politics of the future?