Derrida Jacques Adieu To Emmanuel Levinas 1999 PDF

ADIEU
TOEMMANUEL E
L VINAS
ME R I D IA N
Crossing Aesthetics
Werner Hamacher
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Translated by
Pascale-Anne Brault
and Michael Naas
Stanford
University
Press
Stanford
California
I999
ADIEU
TOEMMANUEL LEVINAS
Jacques Derrida
Assistance for the translation was provided
by the French Ministry of Culture.
Originally published in French in 1997 as
Adieu a Emmanuel Levinas
by Editions Galilee
©1997 by Editions Galilee
Stanford University Press

Stanford, California
©1999 by the Board of Trustees of the
Leland Stanford Junior University
Printed in the United States ofAmerica

elP data appear at the end of the book
Contents
§I Adieu I
§ 2 A Word of Welcome 15
Notes 127
The translators would like to thank the members of the
1 996-97 Levinas Seminar at DePaul University for their
help in preparing this translation. Our thanks also to
Daniel Price and Franyois Raffoul, who read the entire
text and made many fine suggestions, and to Kas Saghafi.,
whose extraordinary knowledge of Levinas's work was in
valuable in preparing notes and checking references. Spe
cial thanks to Helen Tartar at Stanford University Press,
whose careful and exigent reading improved our work in
innumerable ways. We would also like to thank the Uni
versity Research Co·uncil at DePaul University for its gen
erous support of this project. Finally, we owe a great debt
of gratitude, once again, to Jacques Derrida, who contin
ues to encourage us, to indulge our queries with patience
and kindness, and to grace us with his friendship.
Trans.
VZZt
Adieu was originally delivered upon the death of Em
manuel Levinas, at the cemetery in Pantin on December
27, 1995·
I would never have dared publish such words, wrenched
from me so quickly, in the midst of my sorrow and in the
middle of the night, had the initiative not first been taken
in the form of a small book edited in Athens (Editions
AGRA), in Greek, by Vanghelis Bitsoris with such exact
ing and geiterous care. His notes, which are reproduced
here, are more than "translator's notes." I thank him first
for having written them and then for having translated
them into French.
"A Word of Welcome" was given one year later, on De
cember 7 , 199 6, in the Richelieu Amphitheater of the Sor
bonne, at the opening of "Homage to Emmanuel Lev
inas." Organized by Danielle Cohen-Levinas under the
auspices of the College International de Philosoph ie, this
gathering lasted two days and went under the tide "Face
and Sinai."
J.D.
zx
ADIEU
TOEMMANUEL LEVINAS
§ I Adieu
For a long time, for a very long time, I've feared having
to say Adieu to Emmanuel Levinas.
I knew that my voice would tremble at the moment of
saying it, and especially saying it aloud, right here, before
him, so close to him, pronouncing this word of adieu, this
word a-Dieu, which, in a certain sense, I get from him, a
word that he will have taught me to think or to pro
nounce otherwise. 1
By meditating upon what Emmanuel Levinas wrote
about the French word adieu-which I will recall in a few
moments-I hope to find a sort of encouragement to
speak here. And I would like to do so with unadorned, na
ked words, words as childlike and disarmed as my sorrow.
Whom is one addressing at such a moment? And in
whose name would one allow oneself to do so? Often
those who come forward to speak, to speak publicly,
thereby interrupting the animated whispering, the secret
or intimate exchange that always links one, deep inside, to
a dead friend or master, those who make themselves heard
in a cemetery, end up addressing directly, straight on, the
one who, as we say, is no longer, is no longer living, no
I
2 Adieu
longer there, who will no longer respond. With tears in

their voices, they sometimes speak familiarly to the other
who keeps silent, calling upon him without detour or me
diation, apostrophizing him, even greeting him or confid
ing in him. This is not necessarily out of respect for con
vention, not always simply part of the rhetoric of oration.
It is rather so as to traverse speech at the very point where
words fail us, since all language that would return to the
self, to us, would seem indecent, a reflexive discourse that
would end up coming back to the stricken community, to
its consolation or its mourning, to what is called, in a con
fused and terrible expression, "the work of mourning. "
Concerned only with itself, such speech would, i n this
return, risk turning away from what is here our law
the law as straightforwardness or uprightness [droitureJ : to
speak straight on, to address oneself directly to the other,
and to speak for the other whom one loves and admires,
before speaking o/him. To say to him adieu, to him, Em
manuel, and not merely to recall what he first taught us
about a certain Adieu.
This word droiture-"straightforwardness" or "upright
ness" -is another word that I began to hear otherwise and
to learn when it came to me from Emmanuel Levinas. Of
all the. places where he speaks of uprightness, what first
comes to mind is one of his Four Talmudic Readings,
where uprightness names what is, as he says, "stronger
than death."2
But let us also keep from trying to find in everything
that is said to be "stronger than death" a refuge or an al
ibi, yet another consolation. To define uprightness, Em
manuel Levinas says, in his commentary on the Tractate
Shabbath3 that consciousness is the "urgency of a destina
tion leading to the Other and not an eternal return to
self,"4
Adieu 3
an innocence without naivete, an uprightness without stu

pidity, an absolute uprightness which is also absolute self
criticism, read in the eyes of the one who is the goal of my
uprightness and whose look calls me into question. It is a
movement toward the other that does not come back to its
point of origin the way diversion comes back, incapable as it
is of transcendence-a movement beyond anxiety and
stronger than death. This uprightness is called Temimut, the
essence ofJacob.5
This same meditation also sets to work-as each medi

tation did, though each in a singular way-all the great
themes to which the thought of Emmanuel Levinas has
awakened us, that of responsibility first of all, but of an
"unlimited"6 responsibility that exceeds and precedes my
freedom, that of an "unconditional yes,"7 as this text says,
of a "yes older than that of naive spontaneity,"8 a yes in ac
cord with this uprightness that is "original fidelity to an
indissoluble alliance."9 And the final words of this Lesson
return, of course, to death,lO but they do so precisely so as
not to let death have the last word, or the first one. They
remind us qf a recurrent theme in what was a long and in
cessant meditation upon death, but one that set out on a
path that ran counter to the philosophical tradition ex-
. tending from Plato to Heidegger. Elsewhere, before saying
what the a-Dieu must be, another text speaks of the "ex
treme uprightness of the face of the neighbor" as the "up
rightness of an exposure to death, without defense. " I l
I cannot, nor would I even try to, measure i n a few
words the oeuvre of Emmanuel Levinas. It is so large that
one can no longer glimpse its edges. And one would have
to begin by learning once again from him and from To
tality and Infinity, for example, how to think what an
"oeuvre" or "work"12-as well as fecundity-might be. 13
One can predict with confidence that centuries of read-
4 Adieu
ings will set this as their task. We already see innumerable

signs, well beyond France and Europe, in so many works
and so many languages, in all the translations, courses,
seminars, conferences, etc., that the reverberations of this
thought will have changed the course of philosophical re
flection in our time, and of our reflection on philosophy,
on what orders it according to ethics, according to another
thought of ethics, responsibility, justice, the State, etc., ac
cording to another thought of the other, a thought that is
newer than so many novelties because it is ordered ac
cording to the absolute anteriority of the face of the Other.
Yes, ethics before and beyond ontology, the State, or
politics, but also ethics beyond ethics. One day, on the rue
Michel-Ange, during one of those conversations whose
memory I hold so dear, one of those conversations illumi
nated by the radiance of his thought, the goodness of his
smile, the gracious humor of his ellipses, he said to me:
"You know, one often speaks of ethics to describe what I
do, but what really interests me in the end is not ethics,
not ethics alone, but the holy, the holiness of the holy."
And I then thought of a singular separation, the unique
separation of the curtain or veil that is given, ordered and
ordained [donne, ordonne] , by God, the veil entrusted by
Moses to an inventor or an artist rather than to an em
broiderer, the veil that would separate the holy of holies in
the sanctuary. 14 And I also thought of how other Talmudic
Lessons sharpen the necessary distinction between sacred
ness and holiness, that is, the holiness of the other, the ho
liness of the person, who is, as Emmanuel Levinas said
elsewhere, "more holy than a land, even when that land is
a Holy Land. Next to a person who has been affronted,
this land-holy and promis�d-is but nakedness and
desert, a heap of wood and stone." 15
This meditation on ethics, on the transcendence of the
Adieu 5
holy with regard to the sacred, that is, with regard to the
paganism of roots and the idolatry of place, was, of course,
indissociable from an incessant reflection upon the des
tiny and thought of Israel: yesterday, today, and tomor
row. Such reflection consisted of requestioning and reaf
firming the legacies not only of the biblical and talmudic
tradition but of the terrifying memory of our time. This
memory dictates each of these sentences, whether from
nearby or afar, even if Levinas would sometimes protest
against certain self-justifying abuses to which such a mem
ory and the reference to the Holocaust might give rise.
But refraining from commentaries and questions, I
would simply like to give thanks to someone whose
thought, friendship, trust, and "goodness" (and I ascribe
to this word "goodness" all the significance it"is given in
the final pages of Totality and Infinity) 16 will have been for
me, as for so many others, a living source, so living, so
constant, that I am unable to think what is happening to
him or happening to me today, namely, this interruption
or a certain non-response in a response that will never
corne to an end for me as long as I live.
The no�-response: you will no doubt recall that in the
remarkable course Emmanuel Levinas gave in 1975-7 6
(exactly twenty years ago) , "La mort et Ie temps" ("Death
and Time") ,17 where he defines death as the patience of
time,18 and engages in a grand and noble critical encounter
with Plato as much as with Hegel, but especially with Hei
degger, death is often defined-the death that "we meet"
"in the face of the Other"19-as non-response; 20 "It is the
without-response," he says.21 And elsewhere: "There is
here an end that always has the ambiguity of a departure
without return, of a passing away but also of a scandal ('is
it really possible that he's dead?') of non-response and of
my responsibility. "22
6 Adieu
Death: not, first of all, annihilation, non-being, or noth

ingness, but a certain experience for the survivor of the
"without-response. " Already Totality and Infinity called
into question the traditional "philosophical and religious"
interpretation of death as either "a passage to nothingness"
or "a passage to some other existence. "23 It is the murderer
who would like to identifY death with nothingness; Cain,
for example, says Emmanuel Levinas, "must have pos
sessed such a knowledge of death. "24 But even this noth
ingness presents itself as a "sort of impossibility" or, more
precisely, an interdiction.25 The face of the Other forbids
me to kill; it says to me, "Thou shall not kill,"26 even if
this possibility remains presupposed by the interdiction
that makes it impossible. This question without response,
this question of the without-response, would thus be un
derivable, primordial, like the interdiction against killing,
more originary than the alternative of "To be or not to
be,"27 which is thus neither the first nor the last question.
"To be or not to be," another essay concludes, "is probably
not the question par excellence."28
Today, I draw from all this that our infinite sadness
must shy away from everything in mourning that would
turn toward nothingness, that is, toward what still, even
potentially, would link guilt to murder. Levinas indeed
speaks of the survivor's guilt, but it is a guilt without fault
and without debt; it is, in truth, an entrusted responsibility,
entrusted in a moment of unparalleled emotion, at the
moment when death remains the absolute ex-ception.29
To express this unprecedented emotion, the one I feel here
and share with you, the one that our sense of propriety
forbids us to exhibit, so as to make clear without personal
avowal or exhibition how this singular emotion is related
to this entrusted responsibility, entrusted as legacy, allow
me once again to let Emmanuel Levinas speak, he whose
Adieu 7
voice 1 would so much love to hear today when it says that

the "death of the other" is the "first death," and that "1 am
responsible for the other insofar as he is mortal."30 Or else
the following, from the same course of 1975-76:
The death of someone is not, despite what it might have ap

peared to be at first glance, an empirical facticity (death as an
empirical fact whose induction alone could suggest its uni
versality); it is not exhausted in such an appearance.
Someone who expresses himself in his nakedness-the
face-is in fact one to the extent that he calls upon me, to the
extent that he places himself under my responsibility: I must
already answer for him, be responsible for him. Every gesture
of the Other was a sign addressed to me. To return to the
classification sketched out above: to show oneself, to express
oneself, to associate oneself, to be entrusted to me. The Other
who expresses himself is entrusted to me (and there is no debt
with regard to the Other-for what is due cannot be paid;
one will never be even). [Further on it will be a question of a
"duty beyond all debt" for the I who is whar"it is, singular and
identifiable, only through the impossibility of being replaced,
even though it is precisely here that the "responsibility for the
Other," the "responsibility of the hostage," is an experience of
substitution31 and sacrifice.] The Other individuates me in
my responsibility for him. The death of the Other affects me
in my very identity as a responsible I . . . made up of un
speakable responsibility. This is how I am affected by the
death of the Other, this is my relation to his death. It is, in
my-relation, my deference toward someone who no longer re
sponds, already a guilt of the survivor.32
And a bit further on:
The relation to death in its ex-ception-and, regardless of its

signification in relation to being and nothingness, it is an ex
ception-while conferring upon death its depth, is neither a
seeing nor even an aiming toward (neither a seeing of being
8 Adieu
as in Plato nor an aiming toward nothingness as in Heideg

ger), a purely emotional relation, moving with an emotion
that is not made up of the repercussions of a prior knowledge
upon our sensibility and our intellect. It is an emotion, a
movement, an U:neasiness with regard to the unknown.33
The unknown is emphasized here. The "unknown" is not

the negative limit of a knowledge. This non-knowledge is
the element of friendship or hospitality for the transcen
dence of the stranger, the infinite distance of the other.
"Unknown" is the word chosen by Maurice Blanchot for
the title of an essay, "Knowledge of the Unknown,"34 which
he devoted to the one who had been, from the time of their
meeting in Strasbourg in I9 23 , a friend, the very friendship
of the friend.
For many among us, no doubt, certainly for myself, the
absolute fidelity, the exemplary friendship of thought, the
friendship between Maurice Blanchot and Emmanuel Lev
inas was a grace, a gift; it remains a benediction of our
time, and, for more reasons than one, a good fortune that
is also a blessing for those who have had the great privi
lege of being the friend of either of them. In order to hear
once again today, right here, Blanchot speak for Levinas,
and with Levinas, as.I had the good fortune to do when in
their company one day in I 9 68, I will cite a couple of
lines. After having named what in the other "ravishes" us,
after having spoken of a certain "rapture"35 (the word of
ten used by Levinas to speak of death) ,36 Blanchot says:
But we must not despair of philosophy. In Emmanuel Lev

inas's book [ Totality and Infinity]-where, it seems to me,
philosophy in our time has never spoken in a more sober
manner, putting back into question, as we must, our ways of
thinking and even our facile reverence for ontology-we are
called upon to become responsible for what philosophy es
sentially is, by welcoming, in all the radiance and infinite ex-
Adieu 9
igency proper to it, the idea of the Other, that is to say, the
relation with autrui. It is as though there were here a new de
parture in philosophy and a leap that it, and we ourselves,
were urged to accomplish.37
If the relation to the other presupposes an infinite sep

aration, an infinite interruption where the face appears,
what happens, where and to whom does it happen, when
another interruption comes at death to hollow out even
more infinitely this first separation, a rending interruption
at the heart of interruption itself? I cannot speak of in
terruption without recalling, like many among you, no
doubt, the anxiety of interruption I could feel in Em
manuel Levinas when, on the telephone, for example, he
seemed at each moment to fear being cut off, to fear
the silence or disappearance, the "without-response," of
the other, to whom he called out and held on with an
"allo, allo" between each sentence, sometimes even in
mid-sentence.
What happens when a great thinker becomes silent,
one whom we knew living, whom we read and reread,
and also heard, one from whom we were still awaiting a
response, as if such a response would help us not only to
think otherwise but also to read what we thought we had
already read under his signature, a response that held
everything in reserve, and so much more than what we
thought we had already recognized there?
This is an experience that, as I have learned, would re
main for me interminable with Emmanuel Levinas, as
with all thoughts that are sources, for I will never stop
beginning or beginning anew to think with them on the
basis of the new beginning they give me, and I will begin
again and again to rediscover them on j ust about any
subject. Each time I read or reread Emmanuel Levinas, I
am overwhelmed with gratitude and admiration, over-
10 Adieu
whelmed by this necessity, which is not a constraint but a

very gentle force that obligates, and obligates us not to
bend or curve otherwise the space of thought in its respect
for the other, but to yield to this other, heteronymous cur
vature38 that relates us to the completely other (that is, to
justice, as he says somewhere in a powerful and formida
ble ellipsis: the relation to the other, that is to say, jus
tice),39 according to the law that thus calls us to yield to
the other infinite precedence of the completely other.
It will have come, like this call, to disturb, discreetly
but irreversibly, the most powerful and established
thoughts of the end of this millennium, beginning with
those of Husserl and Heidegger, whom Levinas intro
duced into France some sixty-five years ago! Indeed, this
country, whose hospitality he so loved (and Totality and
Infinity shows not only that "the essence of language is
goodness" b ut that "the essence of language is friendship
and hospitality"),40 this hospitable France, owes him,
among so many other things, among so many other sig
nificant contributions, at least two irruptive events of
thought, two inaugural acts that are difficult to measure
today because they have been incorporated into the very
element of our philosophical culture, after having trans
formed its landscape.
First, to say it all too quickly, beginning in 1930 with
translations and interpretative readings, there was the ini
tial introduction of Husserlian phenomenology, which
would feed· and fecundate so many French philosophical
currents. Then-in truth, simultaneously-there was the
introduction of Heideggerian thought, which was no less
important in the genealogy of so many French philoso
phers, professors, and students. Husserl and Heidegger at
.
the same time, beginning in 1930.
I wanted last night to reread a few pages from this
Adieu II
prodigious book,41 which was for me, as for many others

before me, the first and best guide. I picked out a few sen
tences that have made their mark in time and that allow
us to measure the distance he will have helped us cover. In
1930, a young man of twenty-three said in the preface that
I reread, smiling, smiling at him: "The fact that in France
phenomenology is not a doctrine known to everyone has
been a constant problem in the writing of this book."42 Or
again, speaking of the so very "powerful and original phi
losophy"43 of "Mr. Martin Heidegger, whose influence on
this book will often be felt, "44 the same book also recalls
that "the problem raised here by transcendental phenom
enology is an ontological problem in the very precise
sense that Heidegger gives to this term. "45
The second event, the second philosophical tremor, I
would even say, the happy traumatism that we owe him
(in the sense of the word "traumatism" that he liked to
recall, the "traumatism of the other"46 that comes from
the Other), is that, while closely reading and reinterpret
ing the thinkers I just mentioned, but so many others as
well, both philosophers such as Descartes, Kant, and Kier
kegaard, and writers such as Dostoevsky, Kafka, Proust,
etc.-all the while disseminating his words through pub
lications, teaching, and lectures (at the Ecole Normale Is
raelite Orientale, at the College Philosophique, and at the
Universities of Poitiers, Nanterre, and the Sorbonne)
Emmanuel Levinas slowly displaced, slowly bent accord
ing to an inflexible and simple exigency, the axis, trajec
tory, and even the order of phenomenology or ontology
that he had introduced into France beginning in 1930.
Once again, he completely changed the landscape without
landscape of thought; he did so in a dignified way, with
out polemic, at once from within, faithfully, and from
very far away, from the attestation of a completely other
12 Adieu
place. And I believe that what occurred there, in this sec

ond sailing, this second time that leads us back even fur
ther than the first, is a discreet but irreversible mutation,
one of those powerful, singular, and rare provocations in
history that, for over two thousand years now, will have
ineffaceably marked the space and body of what is more
or less, in any case something different from, a simple di
alogue between Jewish thought and its others, the philoso
phies of Greek origin or, in the tradition of a certain
"Here I am, "47 the other Abrahamic monotheisms. This
happened, this mutation happened, through him, through
Emmanuel Levinas, who was conscious of this immense
responsibility in a way that was, I believe, at once clear,
confident, calm, and modest, like that of a prophet.
One indication of this historical shock wave is the in
fluence of this thought well beyond philosophy, and well
beyond Jewish thought, on Christian theology, for exam
ple. I cannot help recall the day when, listening to a lec
ture by Andre Neher at a Congress ofJewish Intellectuals,
Emmanuel Levinas turned to me and said, with the gen
tle irony so familiar to us: "You see, he's the Jewish Protes
tant, and I'm the Catholic"-a quip that would call for
long and serious reflection.
In everything that has happened here through him,
thanks to him, we have had the good fortune not only of
receiving it while living, from him living, as a responsibil
ity entrusted by the living to the living, but also the good
fortune of owing it to him with a light and innocent debt.
One day, speaking of his research on death and of what it
owed to Heidegger at the very moment when it was mov
ing away from him, Levinas wrote: "It distinguishes itself
from Heidegger's thought, and it does so in spite of the
debt that every contemporary thinker owes to Heideg
ger-a debt that one often regrets. "48 The good fortune of
Adieu 13
our debt to Levinas is that we can, thanks to him, assume

it and affirm it without regret, in a joyous innocence of
admiration. It is of the order of the unconditional yes of
which I spoke earlier, and to which it responds, "Yes." The
regret, my regret, is not having said this to him enough,
not having shown him this enough in the course of these
thirty years, during which, in the modesty of silences,
through brief or discreet conversations, writings too indi
rect or reserved, we often addressed to one another what I
would call neither questions nor answers but, perhaps, to
use another one of his words, a sort of "question, prayer,"
a question-prayer that, as he says, would be anterior to all
dialogue.49
The question-prayer that turned me toward him per
haps already shared in the experience of the a-Dieu with
which I began. The greeting of the a-Dieu does not signal
the end. "The a-Dieu is not a finality, " he says, thus chal
lenging the "alternative between being and nothingness,"
which "is not ultimate. " The a-Dieu greets the other be
yond being, in what is "signified, beyond being, by the
word 'glory.':'5o "The a-Dieu is not a process of being: in
the call, I am referred back to the other human being
through whom this call signifies, to the neighbor for
whom I am to fear."51
But I said that I did not want simply to recall what he
entrusted to us of the a-Dieu, but first of all to say adieu
to him, to call him by his name, to call his name, his first
name, what he is called at the moment when, if he no
longer responds, it is because he is responding in us, from
the bottom of our hearts, in us but before us, in us right
before us-in calling us, in recalling to us: a-Dieu.
Adieu, Emmanuel.
§ 2 A Word of Welcome
Welcome [bienvenue], yes, welcome.
On the threshold of this gathering around Emmanuel

Levinas, from Emmanuel Levinas, in the trace of his
thought and under the double sign "Face and Sinai," it is
a word of welcome, yes, a word of welcome that I will
thus dare to pronounce.
I do not, of course, venture this in my name alone;
nothing woUld permit me to do so.
Such a greeting might nonetheless be conveyed.
It would attempt to pass from one to another, from
someone-him or her-to another, letting itself be re
ceived but also heard and interpreted, listened to or ques
tioned. It would seek its passage through the violence of
the host, who always keeps watch over the rite. For the
risk is great. To dare to say welcome is perhaps to insinu
ate that one is at home here, that one knows what it
means to be at home, and that at home one receives, in
vites, or offers hospitality, thus appropriating for oneself a
place to welcome [accueillir] the other, or, worse, welcom
ing the other in order to appropriate for oneself a place
I5
16 A Word of welcome
and then speak the language of hospitality-of course, I

have no more intention than anyone else of doing this,
though I'm already concerned about the danger of such a
. usurpation.
For I wish to put before you, at the opening of this con
ference, a few modest and preliminary reflections on the
word "welcome" [accueil] , as Levinas, it seems to me, has
put his mark upon it, having first reinvented it, in those
places where he invites us-that is, gives us to think
what is called "hospitality."
Though the honor of delivering this first word of wel
come was undeserved, there are several reasons why I felt
compelled to accept it. The first has to do with the College
International de Philosophie, with its history and its mem
ory-and with what I have had to do with it. It was here
at the College, which thankfully took the initiative to or
ganize this conference, that Emmanuel Levinas spoke in·
such an unforgettable way. Moreover, from the very begin
ning-and I can bear witness to this-Emmanuel Lev
inas gave his support to this institution. I remember visit
ing him on the rue Michel-Ange in 1982 at the time we
were preparing to found the College. I had gone there to
ask for his advice, his approbation, and even for a promise
.
of participation.
Emmanuel Levinas gave me all of that. He was with us
from the very beginning. His thought remains, for so
many philosophers, writers, and friends of the College, an
inspiration or a horizon. Numerous works have been de
voted to him within our institution in the form of lectures·
and seminars. Indeed, one would have to speak here of a
constant study, in all the respectable senses of this word, in
the Latin sense, in the Hebraic sense it translates, and in a
sense that is still completely new. It was thus appropriate
that the College should, as a sign of fidelity, on the first
A Word of Welcome I7
anniversary of the death of Emmanuel Levinas, mark this

moment of studious recollection [recueillement] in living
thought. I take this opportunity, then, to thank in our
name the present directors of the College, its president
Fran<.;:ois Jullien and especially Danielle Cohen-Levinas,
program director, for having taken it upon themselves to
respond to our shared hopes for such a gathering.
We are also grateful to the chancellor of the Universities
of Paris for the welcome, yes, the welcome that she has
extended to us in this venerable place of teaching. It
was right here, in the Richelieu Amphitheater, that this
thinker who was not only a great professor at the Sor
bonne, but a master, once taught.
This master never separated his teaching from a strange
and difficult thought of teaching-a magisterial teaching 1
in the figure of welcoming, a welcoming where ethics in
terrupts the philosophical tradition of giving birth and
foils the ruse of the master who feigns to efface himself be
hind the figure of the midwife. For the study of which we
are speaking cannot be reduced to a maieutics, which
would reveal to me only what I am already capable of, as
Levinas says. To weave together the themes I would like to
privilege here, and to cross the semantic and etymological
resources of a word Levinas uses so often, the word meme
["self, same"] , a word whose philology is not his prime
concern, we might perhaps say, following Totality and In
finity, that maieutics teaches me nothing. It reveals noth
ing to me. It unveils only what I am already in a position
[a meme] to know myself [moi-meme] (ipse), capable of
knowing [pouvoir savoir] by myself, in this place where the
self, the same [meme] (egomet ipse, medisme, meisme, from
metipse, metipsimus) gathers in itselfcapacity and knowing,
power and knowledge, and as the same [meme] , the same
being-in-a-position-to [etre-a meme-de] , in the property of
IS A Word of Welcome
what is proper to it, in its very [meme] essentiality. And

perhaps-we will return to this-what is thus announced
is a certain appropriating interpretation, indeed a politics
of hospitality, a politics of capacity, of power [pouvoir] ,
with regard to the h6te, be he the one welcoming (host) or
the one being welcomed (guest) . 2 Power ofthe h6te over
the h6te, of the host over the guest or vice versa. The hosti
pet-s is the "guest-master," says Benveniste regarding a
chain that would link, like two sovereign powers, hospi
tality and ipseity.3
Now, for Levinas, the welcoming of teaching gives and
receives something else, more than me and more than some
other thing. "To approach the Other in discourse," we read
already in the opening pages of Totality and Infinity,
is to welcome [I take the liberty of emphasizing this word] his

expression, in which at each instant he overflows the idea a
thought would carry away from it. It is therefore to receive
[Levinas's emphasis] from the Other beyond the capacity of
the I, which means exactly: to have the idea of infinity. But
this also means: to be taught. The relation with the Other, or
Discourse, is a non-allergic relation, an ethical relation; but
inasmuch as it is welcomed [my emphasis again] this dis
course is a teaching. But teaching does not come down to
maieutics; it comes from the exterior and brings me more
than I contain.4
If I felt I had to accept the great and undue honor of

delivering these first words, it was also-something more
difficult to admit-because I felt myself incapable of
preparing for today a lecture worthy of the name, worthy
of this conference, and worthy of Levinas. When Danielle
Cohen-Levinas extended me this honor, I agreed to be the
first to speak so as, of course, to take part in this homage,
something I deeply wished to do, but also so as to efface
A Word of Welcome 19
myself as quickly as possible on the threshold of hospital

ity. I hoped then to be able to remain silent, protected by
this alibi-and especially to listen. I will indeed do this,
but not before drawing out at some length-and I beg
your forgiveness in advance-an interpretation of wel
coming or hospitality. I will do so in the name or under
the title of the opening, since it was agreed that that would
be the general title given to this introduction.
Now, in a first reversal, Levinas suggests thinking the

opening in general on the basis of hospitality or welcom
ing, and not the other way around. He does so explicitly.
These two words, "opening" and "hospitality," are at once
associated and dissociated in his work. They obey a subtle
law. Like every law, it calls for cautious deciphering.
How is one to interpret this hospitality in the name of
Levinas? How might one do so by speaking, not in his
place and in his name, but along with him, speaking with
him as well, first by listening to him today, by coming to
places where, in order to recall their names to them, he re
named, made renowned, Sinai and the face, "Sinai" and
"face"? These names were brought together for the sake of
this gathering, but do we know how to hear them? In
what language? As common or proper nouns? As trans
lated from another language? From the past of a holy writ
ing or from an idiom to come?
On the horizon of these preliminary reflections, I will
be guided by a question that I will in the end leave in sus
pense, being content simply to situate some of its
premises and points of reference. It would concern, on
first view, the relationships between an ethics of hospital
ity (an ethics as hospitality) and a law or a politics of hos
pitality, for example, in the tradition of what Kant calls
20 A Word of Welcome
the conditions of universal hospitality in cosmopolitical

law: "with a view to perpetual peace."
The classical form of this question would perhaps be
found in the figure of a founding or legitimating founda
tion. It might be asked, for example, whether the ethics of
hospitality that we will try to analyze in Levinas's thought
would be able to found a law and a politics, beyond the fa
milial dwelling, within a society, nation, State, or Nation
State.
This question is no doubt serious, difficult, and neces
sary, but it is already canonical. We will try to subordinate
it to another suspensive question, to what might be called
a sort of epoche. Which one?
Let us assume, concesso non dato, that there is no assured
passage, following the order of a foundation, according to
a hierarchy of founding and founded, of principial origi
narity and derivation, between an ethics or a first philoso
phy of hospitality, on the one hand, and a law or politics
of hospitality, on the other. Let us assume that one cannot
deduce from Levinas's ethical discourse on hospitality a
law and a politics, some particular law or politics in some
determined situation today, whether close to us or far
away (assuming that we could even evaluate the distance
separating the Church of St. Bernard [in Paris] from Is
rael, from the former Yugoslavia, from Zaire or Rwanda) . 5
How, then, are we to interpret this impossibility of found
ing, of deducing or deriving? Does this impossibility sig
nal a failing? Perhaps we should say the contrary. Perhaps
we would, in truth, be put to another kind of test by the
apparent negativity of this lacuna, by this hiatus between
ethics (first philosophy or metaphysics-in the sense, of
course, that Levinas has given to these words), on the one
hand, and, on the other, , law or politics. If there is no lack
here, would not such a hiatus in effect require us to think
A "WOrd of Welcome 21
law and politics otherwise? Would it not in fact open

like a hiatus-both the mouth and the possibility of an
other speech, of a decision and a responsibility (juridical
and political, if you will), where decisions must be made
and responsibility, as we say, taken, without the assurance
of an ontological foundation? According to this hypothe
sis, the absence of a law or a politics, in the strict and de
termined sense of these terms, would be just an illusion.
Beyond this appearance or convenience, a return to the
conditions of responsibility and of the decision would im
pose itsel£ between ethics, law, and politics. Such a return
might be undertaken, as I will try to suggest in conclu
sion, according to two very close, but perhaps heteroge
neous, paths.
Has anyone ever noticed? Although the word is neither

frequently used nor emphasized within it, Totality and In
finity bequeaths to us an immense treatise of hospitality.
This is borne out less by the occurrences of the word
"hospitality,-" which are, in fact, rather rare, than by the
links and discursive logic that lead to this vocabulary of
hospitality. In the concluding pages, for example, hospi
tality becomes the very name of what opens itself to the
face, or, more precisely, of what "welcomes" it. The face
always lends itself to a welcome, and the welcome wel
comes only a face, the face that should be our theme to
day, but that, as we know from reading Levinas, must
elude all thematization.
This irreducibility to a theme, this exceeding of all
thematizing formalization or description, is precisely
what the face has in common with hospitality. Levinas is
not content to distinguish hospitality from thematiza-
tion; as we will hear in a moment, he explicitly opposes

them.
When he completely redefines intentional subjectivity,
submitting subjection to the idea of infinity in the finite,
he multiplies in his own way propositions in which a
noun defines a noun. The substantive-subject and the
substantive-predicate might then exchange places in the
proposition, which would upset at once the grammar of
de-termination and traditional logical writing, right up to
its dialectical affiliation. For example: "It [intentionality,
consciousness of . ] is attention to speech or welcome of.
. .
the face, hospitality and not thematization."6

If I was tempted to underscore the word hospitality in
this sentence, I must now-so as to efface it-go back on
this pedagogical or rhetorical concern. For all the concepts
that are opposed to "thematization" are at once synony
mous and of equal value. None of them should be privi
leged, and thus underscored. Before going any further in
the interpretation of this proposition, we should note
what silently justifies such an apposition. It seems to fol
Iow a sort of elan, content simply to unfold, to explicate.
It appears to proceed, indeed to leap, from one synonym
to the next. Though it appears as such only once, the "or"
(vel) of substitution could be inscribed between each
noun-excluding, of course, "thematization": "It [inten
tionality, consciousness of . . ] is attention to speech or
.
welcome of the face, hospitality and not thematization."

The word "hospitality" here translates, brings to the
fore, re-produces, the two words preceding it, "attention"
and "welcome." An internal paraphrase, a sort of pe
riphrasis, a series of metonymies that bespeak hospitality,
the face, welcome: tending toward the other, attentive in
tention, intentional attention, yes to the other. Intention
ality, attention to speech, welcome of the face, hospital-
A "WOrd of Welcome 23
ity- all these are the same, but the same as the welcoming
of the other, there where the other withdraws from the
theme. This movement without movement effaces itself
in the welcoming of the other, and since it opens itself to
the infinity of the other, an infinity that, as other, in some
sense precedes it, the welcoming of the other (objective
genitive) will already be a response: the yes to the other
will already be responding to the welcoming ofthe other
(subjective genitive) , to the yes of the other. This response
is called for as soon as the infinite-always ofthe other
is welcomed. We will follow its trace in Levinas. But this
"as soon as" does not mark the moment or threshold of a
beginning, of an arche, since infinity will already have
been pre-originarily welcomed. Welcomed in anarchy.
This responsible response is surely a yes, but a yes to pre
ceded by the yes ofthe other. One should no doubt extend
without limit the consequences of what Levinas asserts in
a passage where he repeats and interprets the idea of in
finity in the Cartesian cogito: "It is not I, it is the other
that can say yes." 7
(If one were to pursue these consequences with the nec
essary temerity and rigor, they would perhaps lead to an
other way of thinking the responsible decision. Levinas
would probably not say it in this way, but could it not be
argued that, without exonerating myself in the least, deci
sion and responsibility are always ofthe other? They always
come back or come down to the other, from the other,
even if it is the other in me?8 For, in the end, would an ini
tiative that remained purely and simply "mine" still be a
decision, in accordance with the most powerful tradition
of ethics and philosophy, which requires that the decision
always be "my" decision, the decision of one who can
freely say "as for mysel£ 1," ipse, egomet ipse? Would what
comes down to me in this way still be a decision? Do we
have the right to give the name "decision" to a purely au

tonomous movement, even if it is one of welcoming or
hospitality, that would proceed only from me, by me, and
would simply deploy the possibilities of a subjectivity that
is mine? Would we not be justified in se.eing here
folding of an ego logical immanence, the autonomic and
automatic deployment of predicates or possibilities proper
to a subject, without the tearing rupture that should occur
in every decision we call free?
If it is only the other who can say yes, the "first" yes, the
welcome is always the welcome of the other. One must
then think the grammars and genealogies of this genitive.
If I put quotation marks around the "first" of the "first"
yes, it was to accede to a scarcely thinkable hypothesis:
there is no first yes, the yes is already a response. But since
everything must begin with some yes, the response begins,
the response commands. We must make the best of this
aporia, into which we, finite and mortal, are thrown and
without which there would be no promise of a path. It is
necessary to begin by responding. There would thus be, in
the beginning, no first word. The call is called only from
the response. The response comes ahead of or comes to
encounter the call, which, before the response,. is first only
in order to await the response that makes it come. Despite
all the tragic objections that this harsh law might seem to
justify ["but then what?," it might be said; "What about
the call with no response, the solitary cry of distress? And
the solitude of prayer, and the infinite separation to which
it attests, would this not be, to the contrary, the true con
dition of the call, of the infinitely finite call?"] , the neces
sity remains, as imperturbable as death, that is to say, the
necessity of finitude: from the depthless depths of its soli
tude, a call can only itself be heard, can only hear itself,
and hear itselfcalling, from the promise of a response. We
are speaking here of the call as such, if there is one. For if

one wants to appeal to a call that is not even recognized,
that does not recognize itself, as a call, one can, at least to
think it, do without any response. This is always possible,
and it no doubt does not fail to happen.
Levinas does not say this, or he does not say it in this
way, but I would like to approach him today by way [voie]
of this non-way.)
Though the word "hospitality" occurs relatiyely seldom
in Totality and Infinity, the word "welcome" is unarguably
one of the most frequent and determinative words in that
text. This could be verified, even if, to my knowledge, it
has not been done. More operational than thematic, this
concept operates everywhere in order to speak of the first
gesture in the direction of the Other.
But is this welcome even a gesture? It is, rather, the first
movement, an apparently passive movement, but the right
or good movement. The welcome cannot be derived, no
more than the face can, and there is no face without wel
come. It is as if the welcome, just as much as the face, just
as much as the vocabulary that is co-extensive and thus
profoundly Synonymous with it, were a first language, a set
made up of quasi-primitive-and quasi-transcendental
words. We must first think the possibility of the welcome
in order to think the face and everything that opens up or
is displaced with it: ethics, metaphysics or first philosophy,
in the sense that Levinas gives to these words.
The welcome determines the "receiving," the receptiv
ity of receiving as the ethical relation. As we have already
heard: "To approach the Other in discourse is to welcome
his expression, in which at each instant he overflows the
idea a thought would carry away from it. It is therefore to
receive from the Other beyond the capacity of the 1."
This to receive, a word underscored here and proposed
A Word of welcome
as a synonym of to welcome, receives only to the extent, an

extent beyond all measure, that it receives beyond the ca- .
pacity of the 1. AB we will see, this dissymmetrical dispro
portion will later mark the law of hospitality. But in an un
.
expected proposition within the same paragraph, reason is
itself interpreted as this hospitable receptivity. The long line
of the philosophical tradition that passes through the con
cept of receptivity or passivity, and thus, it was thought, of
sensibility as opposed to rationality, is here reoriented at its
most basic level.
It is a question of the acceptation of reception.
One can apprehend or perceive the meaning of to re
ceive only on the basis of the hospitable welcome, the wel
come opened or offered to the other. Reason itself is a re
ceiving. Another way of saying it, if one still wishes to
speak within the law of the tradition, though against it,
against its inherited oppositions, is that reason is sensibil
ity. Reason itself is a welcome inasmuch as it welcomes
the idea of infinity-and the welcome is rational.
Is it insignificant that Levinas speaks in this place of a
door [porte] ? Is the place that he designates in this way
simply a trope in a rhetoric of hospitality? If the figure of
the door, on the threshold that opens the at-home [chez
soi] , were a "manner [fofon] of speaking," this would sug
gest that speech is a manner of speaking, a manner of do
ing or managing [foire] with one's hand held out, address
ing oneself to the Other so as to give him something to
eat or drink, or to allow him to breathe, as Levinas so of
ten recalls elsewhere. The open door, as a manner of
speaking, calls for the opening of an exteriority or of a
transcendence of the idea of infinity. This idea comes to
us through a door, and the door passed through is none
other than reason in teaching.
In the same passage of "Transcendence as the Idea of
A 'UIOrd of Welcome 27
Infinity," the scrupulous precautions of "but," "yet," and

"without" sharpen the originality of this receiving and this
welcome. This open door is anything but a simple passiv
ity, anything but an abdication of reason:
To approach the Other in discourse is to welcome [my em

phasis] his expression, in which at each instant he overflows
the idea a thought would carry away from it. It is therefore
to receive [Levinas's emphasis] from the Other beyond the
capacity of the I, which means exactly: to have the idea of in
finity. But this also means: to be taught. The relation with
the Other, or Discourse, is a non-allergic relation, an ethical
relation; but inasmuch as it is welcomed [my emphasis again]
this discourse is a teaching. But [third "but," my emphasis, a
but within a but (mais dans Ie mais), magis, but even more,
even better] teaching does not come down to [ ne revientpas
a] maieutics; it comes from the exterior and brings me more
than I contain. [It does not come back, or come down to
it comes, and comes from elsewhere, from the exterior, from
the other.] In its non-violent transitivity the very epiphany of
the face is produced. The Aristotelian analysis of the intel
lect, which discovers the agent intellect coming in by the door
[my emphasis here and in the following], absolutely exterior,
and yet constituting, without in any way compromising, the
sovereign activity of reason, already substitutes for maieutics
a transitive action of the master, since reason, without abdi
cating, is found to be in a position to receive [ a meme de
recevoir] [Levinas's emphasis] .
Reason in a position to receive: what can this hospitality

of reason give, this reason as the capacity to receive [pou
voir recevoir] ("in a position to receive") , this reason under
the law of hospitality? This reason as the law of hospital
ity? Levinas underscores, for a second time in the same
paragraph, the word "receive. " In this vein, as we know, he
will undertake the most daring analyses of receptivity, of a
A u;ord of welcome
passivity before passivity, analyses whose stakes will be

come more and more decisive precisely where the words
seem to get carried away and become disidentified in a
discourse that opens each signification to its other (rela
tion without relation, passivity without passivity, "passiv
ity . . . more passive than every passivity,"9 etc.)
The word "welcome" comes up again on the same page.
It designates, along with the "notion of the face," the
opening of the I and the "philosophical priority of the ex
istent over Being. " 1 0 This thought of welcoming thus also
initiates a discreet but clear and firm contestation of Hei
degger, indeed of the central motif of gathering oneself, of
recollection [recueillement] , or of gathering together ( Ver
sammlung), of the collecting (colligere) that would be ac
complished in recollection. There is, of course, a thinking
of recollection in Levinas, particularly in the section of To
tality and Infinity entitled "The Dwelling." But such rec
ollection of the "at home with oneself [chez-soi]" already
assumes the welcome; it is the possibility ofwelcoming and
not the other way around. It makes the welcome possible,
and, in a sense, that is its sole destination. One might
then say that the welcome to come is what makes possible
the recollection of the at home with oneself, even though
the - relations of conditionality appear impossible to
straighten out. They defy chronology as much as logic.
The welcome also, of course, supposes recollection, that
is, the intimacy of the at home with oneselfand the figure
of woman, feminine alterity. But the welcome [laccueil]
would not be a secondary modification of collecting
[cueillir] , of this col-ligere that is not without link or liga
ture to the origin of religion, to this "relation without re
lation" for which Levinas reserves, as he says, the word "re
ligion" as the "ultimate structure": "For the relation be
tween the being here below and the transcendent being
that results in no community of concept or totality-a re

lation without relation-we reserve the term religion." l l
The possibility o f the welcome would thus come-so as to
open them up-before recollection, even before collecting,
before the act from which everything nonetheless seems
to be derived. Levinas says elsewhere that "to possess the
idea of infinity is to have already welcomed the Other" 12
and that "to welcome the Other is to put in question my
freedom." 13
Among the numerous occurrences of the word welcome
in Totality and Infinity, let us recall for the moment the
one at the beginning of the chapter "Truth and Justice"
that defines nothing less than Discourse: Discourse as Jus
tice. Discourse presents itself as Justice "in the uprightness
of the welcome made to the face."14
With this word "Justice" are announced all the formi
dable problems that we will try to address later, notably
those that arise with the third. The third arrives without
waiting. Without waiting, the third comes to affect the
experience of the face in the face to face. Although this in
terposition 9f the third does not interrupt the welcome it
self, this "thirdness" [tertialitt] turns or makes turn to
ward it, like a witness (terstis) made to bear witness to it,
the dual [duel] of the face to face, the singular welcome of
the unicity of the other. The illeity of the third is thus
nothing less, for Levinas, than the beginning of justice, at
once as law and beyond the law, in law beyond the law.
Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence speaks of this "ille
ity, in the third person, but according to a 'thirdness' that
is different from that of the third man, from that of the
third interrupting the face to face of the welcome of the
other man-interrupting the proximity or approach of
the neighbor-from that of the third man with whom
justice begins." 15
Earlier, a note specifies that justice is "this very pres

ence of the third." 16 From pages where I have always '
thought I could make out a certain distress of the aporia,
the complaints, attestations, and protestations, along
with the outcries or objections, of a Job who would be
tempted to appeal not to justice but against it, come to us
the desperate questions of a just man. Of a just man who
would like to be more just than justice. Another Job, un
less this is the other of Job, asks what he has to do with
justice, with just and unjust j ustice. These questions cry
out a contradiction, one that is without equal and with
out precedent, the terrible contradiction of the Saying by
the Saying, Contra-Diction itself:
The third is other than the neighbor, but also another neigh
bor, and also a neighbor of the other, and not simply his fel
low. What then are the other and the third for one another?
What have they done to one another? Which passes before
the other? . . . The other and the third, my neighbors, con
temporaries of one another, put distance between me and
the other and the third. "Peace, peace to the neighbor and
�he one far-off" (Isaiah 57: 19)-we now understand the
point of this apparent rhetoric. The third introduces a con
tradiction in the Saying. . . . It is of itself the limit of re
sponsibility and the birth of the question: What do I have to
do with justice? A question of conscience, of consciousness.
Justice is necessary, that is, comparison, coexistence, con
temporaneousness, assembling . . . 17
Levinas does not shrink from analyzing the conse

quences of this "is necessary." It reintroduces us, as if by
force, into places ethics should exceed: the visibility of the
face, thematization, comparison, synchrony, system, co
presence "before a court of justice." In truth, it does not
re-introduce us in a secondary way into these places but
calls us back to them from before the time before. For the
third does not wait; it is there, from the "first" epiphany of

the face in the face to face.
The question, then, is the third.
The "birth of the question" is the third. Yes, the birth,
for the third does not wait; it comes at the origin of the
face and of the face to face. Yes, the birth of the question
as question, for the face to face is immediately suspended,
interrupted without being interrupted, as face to face, as

the dual of two singularities. The ineluctability of the
third is the law of the question. The question of a ques
tion, as addressed to the other and from the other, the
other of the other, the question of a question that is surely
not first (it comes after the yes to the other and the yes of
.he other) though nothing precedes it. No thing, and es
pecially no one.
The question, but also, as a result, justice, philosophi
cal intelligibility, knowledge, and even, announcing itself
gradually from one person to the next, from neighbor to
neighbor, the figure of the State. For, as we will hear, all
this is necessary.
The same logic, the same sentences, often the literal
repetition of these statements, lead Levinas in "Peace and
Proximity" to deduce from this ineluctability of the third
at once the origin of the question itself (and thus of philo
sophical discourse, whose status is governed and whose
signature legitimated by the question: almost the entirety
of Levinas's discourse, for example, almost the entire space
of its intelligibility for us, appeals to this third) 18 and jus
tice and the "political structure of society." The leap with
out transition, the rupturing mutation of the "without
question" at the birth of the "first question," defines at the
same time the passage from ethical responsibility to ju
ridical, political-and philosophical-responsibility. It
also indicates the move out of immediacy:
Doubtless, responsibility for the other human being is, in its

immediacy, anterior to every question. But how does responsi
bility obligate if a third troubles this exteriority of two w�ere
my subjection of the subject is subjection to the neighbor?
The third is other than the neighbor but also another neigh
bor, and also a neighbor of the other, and not simply their
fellow. What am I to do? What have they already done to
one another? Who passes before the other in my responsibil
ity? What, then, are the other and the third with respect to
one another? Birth ofthe question.
The first question in the interhuman is the question ofjus
tice. Henceforth it is necessary to know, to become conscious
ness. Comparison is superimposed onto my relation with the
unique and the incomparable, and, in view of equity and
equality, a weighing, a thinking, a calculation, the compari
son of incomparables, and, consequently, the neutrality
presence or representation-of being, the thematization and
the visibility of the face. 19
The deduction proceeds in this way right up to "the po

litical structure of society, subject to laws," right up to
"the dignity of the citizen," where, however, a sharp dis
tinction must remain between the ethical subject and the
civic one.20 But this move out of purely ethical responsi
bility, this interruption of ethical immediacy, is itself im
mediate. The third does not wait; its illeity calls from as
early as the epiphany of the face in the face to face. For the
absence of the third would threaten with violence the pu
rity of ethics in the absolute immediacy of the face to face
with the unique. Levinas does not say it in exactly this
way, but what is he doing when, beyond or through the
dual of the face to face between two "uniques," he appeals
to justice, affirming and reaffirming that justice "is neces
sary," that the third "is necessary" ? Is he not trying to take
into account this hypothesis of a violence in the pure and
immediate ethics of the face to face? A violence potentially
A Word of welcome 33
unleashed in the experience o f the neighbor and o f ab

solute unicity? The impossibility of discerning here be
tween good and evil, love and hate, giving and taking, the
desire to live and the death drive, the hospitable welcome
and the egoistic or narcissistic closing up within oneself?
The third would thus protect against the vertigo of eth
ical violence itself. For ethics could be doubly exposed to
such violence: exposed to undergo it but also to exercise
it. Alternatively or simultaneously. It is true that the pro
tecting or mediating third, in its juridico-political role, vi
olates in its turn, at least potentially, the purity of the eth
ical desire devoted to the unique. Whence the terrible in
eluctability of a double constraint.
Though Levinas never puts it in these terms, I will risk
pointing out the necessity of this double bind in what fol
lows from the axioms established or recalled by Levinas: if
the face to face with the unique engages the infinite ethics
of my responsibility for the other in a sort of oath before
the letter, an unconditional respect or fidelity, then the in
eluctable emergence of the third, and, with it, of justice,
would sigl1al an initial perjury [paryure] . 2 1 Silent, passive,
painful, but inevitable, such perjury is not accidental and
secondary, but is as originary as the experience of the face.
Justice would begin with this perjury. (Or at least justice
as law; even if justice remains transcendent or heteroge
neous to law, these two concepts must not be dissociated:
justice demands law, and law does not wait any more than
does the illeity of the third in the face. When Levinas says
"justice," we are also authorized to hear "law," it seems to
me. Law [droit] would begin with such a perjury; it would
betray ethical uprightness [droiture] .)
To my knowledge, peryury is not a theme in Levinas,
nor is oath-and I do not recall having come across or no
ticed these words in the writings that concern us. Whence
the necessity of specifying an "oath before the letter,"

which would also mean, and this time we would be very
close to the letter of Levinas's text, a debt before every
contract or loan. For Levinas does not hesitate to speak of
a "primordial word of honor, " precisely in the experience
of "be�ing witness," of the "attestation of onesel£" of the
"uprightness of the face to face."22
An . intolerable scandal: even if Levinas never puts it this
way, justice commits perjury as easily as it breathes; it be
trays the "primordial word of honor" and swears [jurer]
only to perjure, to swear falsely [paryurer], swear off [ab
jurer] or swear at [injurier] . It is no doubt in facing this
ineluctability that Levinas imagines the sigh of the just:
"What do I have to do with justice?"
Henceforth, in the operation of justice one can no
longer distinguish between fidelity to oath and the perjury
of false witness, and even before this, between betrayal
and betrayal, always more than one betrayal. One should
then, with all requisite analytical prudence, respect the
quality, modality, and situation of these breaches of the
sworn word, of this "primordial word of honor" before all
oaths. But such differences would never efface the trace of
the inaugural perjury. Like the third who does not wait,
the proceedings that open both ethics and justice are in
the process of committing quasi-transcendental or origi
nary, indeed, pre-originary, perjury. One might even call
it ontological, once ethics is joined to everything that ex
ceeds and betrays it (ontology, precisely, synchrony, total
ity, the State, the political, etc.) . One might even see here
an irrepressible evil or a radical perversion, were it not that
bad intentions or bad will might be absent here, and were
its possibility, at least the haunting of its possibility,23 a
sort of pervertibility, not also the condition of the Good,
of Justice, Love, Faith, etc. And of perfectibility.
This spectral "possibility" is not, however, the abstrac

tion of a liminal pervertibility. It would be, rather, the im
possibility of controlling, deciding, or determining a limit,
the impossibility of situating, by means of criteria, norms,
or rules, a tenable threshold separating pervertibility from
perverSIOn.
This impossibility is necessary. It is necessary that this
threshold not be at the disposal of a general knowledge
or a regulated technique. It is necessary that it exceed
every regulated procedure in order to open itself to what
always risks being perverted (the Good, Justice, Love,
Faith-and perfectibility, etc.) . This is necessary, this
possible hospitality to the worst is necessary so that good
hospitality can have a chance, the chance of letting the
other come, the yes of the other no less than the yes to the
other.
These infinite complications do not change anything
about the general structure from which they are, in truth,
derived: discourse, justice, ethical uprightness have to do
first of all with welcoming. The welcome is always a wel
come rese:rved for the face. A rigorous study of this
thought of welcoming should not only highlight all the
contexts in which the recurrence of this word imposes itself
in a regulated way.24 An enormous task. It would also need
to take into account the chances or opportunities offered it
by the French idiom: the idiom, an ambiguous chance, the
shibboleth of the threshold, the preliminary chance of hos
pitality, one for which Levinas was grateful, a chance for
his writing but also a chance granted by his philosophical
writing to the French language. These chances accumulate
places appropriate to the crypt; they also enrich the diffi
culties one encounters in translating the vocabulary of wel
coming into other languages, as when, for example, this
analysis of hospitality (hospitality of a language and wel-
A Word of Welcome
come offered to a language, language of the hote, of the

host, and language as hote, as guest) allows us to notice, in
the collection or recollection of meaning, the extremely
significant play between recollection [recueillement] and
welcome [accueil] .
As Wf; noted a moment ago, Levinas always opens rec
ollection upon welcoming. He recalls the opening of rec
ollection by the welcome, the welcome of the other" the
welcome reserved for the other. "Recollection refers to a
welcome," he says in a passage from "The Dwelling" that
would call for a long, interrogatory analysis. There Levinas
describes the intimacy of the home or of the "at home"
[chez-soi] : these are places of gathered interiority, ofrecol
lection, certainly, but a recollection in which the hos
pitable welcome is accomplished. After an analysis of an
inapparent phenomenon, discretion, which combines man
ifestation and withdrawal in the face, he names Woman:
"the other whose presence is discreetly an absence, with
which is accomplished the hospitable welcome par excel
lence which describes the field of intimacy, is the Woman.
The woman is the condition for recollection, the interior
ity of the Home, and inhabitation."25
What bearing [portee] does this recollection have? Log
ically speaking, of course, as we have just heard, it "refers
to a welcome. " It bears on this; this is its ference, its rap
port or relation. But it is apparently-in the figure of the
Woman or the Home, in the I-Thou of "a silent lan
guage, " of "an understanding without words," of "an ex
pression in secret," in what Levinas here calls "feminine'
alterity"-but one modality of welcoming.
This feminine alterity seems marked by a series of lacks.
A certain negativity is implied in the words "without,"
"not," and "not yet." What is lacking here is nothing less
than an eminent possibility of language: not language in
general but the transcendence o f language, words and

teaching that come from the height of the face:
The simple living from . . . the spontaneous agreeableness of

the elements is not yet habitation. But habitation is not yet
the transcendence of language. The Other who welcomes in
intimacy is not the you [vous] of the face that reveals itself in
a dimension of height, but precisely the thou [tu] of famil
iarity: a language without teaching, a silent language, an un
derstanding without words, an expression in secret. The 1-
Thou in which Buber sees the category of interhuman rela
tionship is the relation not with the interlocutor but with
feminine alterity.26
If this feminine alterity thus seems to lack the "height"

of the face, the absolute verticality of the Most-High in
teaching, she nonetheless speaks-and speaks a human
language. There is nothing of the animal in her, even if
certain signs in the description might seem to point in
this direction. This language is simply "silent," and if there
is hospitality here, "a land of asylum or refuge," it is be
cause the dwelling goes beyond animality. If the at home
with oneself of the dwelling is an "at home with oneself as
in a land of asylum or refuge," this would mean that the
inhabitant also dwells there as a refugee or an exile, a guest
and not a proprietor. That is the humanism of this "femi
nine alterity," the humanism of the other woman, of the
other (as) woman. If woman, in the silence of her "femi
nine being," is not a man, she remains [demeure] human.
The familiarity of the home does not bring separation to
an end, no more than proximity in general does, and no
more than love or eros implies fusion. Familiarity accom
plishes, on the contrary, "the en-ergy of separation":
With it [that is, with familiarity] separation is constituted as

dwelling and inhabitation. To exist henceforth means to
A Word of Welcome
dwell. To dwell is not the simple fact of the anonymous real

ity of a being cast into existence as a stone one casts behind 0
oneself; it is a recollection, a corning to oneself, a retreat horne

with oneself as in a land ofasylum or refuge, which answers to
a hospitality, an expectancy, a human welcome. In human wel
come the language that keeps silence remains an essential
possibility. Those silent comings and goings of the feminine
being whose footsteps reverberate the secret depths of being
are not the turbid mystery of the animal and feline presence
whose strange ambiguity Baudelaire likes to evoke. 27
This is, it would appear, one of the contexts for the dis
cussion of Buber's I-Thou relation. (Despite Levinas's res
ervations regarding Buber's discourse on "thou-saying"
[tutoiement] , he sometimes acknowledges in such "thou
saying" an "exceptional uprightness. ")28 But how can one
think that this is just one context among others? How can
one believe that this modality of welcoming remains sim
ply one determinate modality of hospitality concerning
the home, the dwelling, and especially the femininity of
woman? Levinas's formulations would be enough to warn
us against such a restriction. At least they complicate the
logic in a singular way, for they insistently and explicitly
define "Woman" as "hospitable welcome par excellence,"
"the feminine being" as "the welcoming one par excel
lence," "welcoming in itself. "29 They underscore this es
sential determination in a movement whose consequences 0
we will not cease to measure. In at least two directions.

First, we must think that "the welcoming one par excel
lence," "the welcoming in itself," welcomes within th°e
limits that we have just recalled, that is, those of inhabita
tion and feminine alterity (without the "transcendence of
language," without the "height" of the face in teaching,
etc.) . The danger is that these limits risk dividing, not the
ethical from the political, but, even before this, the pre-
ethical-"inhabitation" or "feminine alterity" before the

transcendence of language, the height and illeity of the
face, teaching, etc.-from the ethical, as if there could be
a welcoming, indeed a welcoming "par excellence," "in it
sel£" before ethics. And as if the "feminine being" as such
did not as yet have access to the ethical. The situation of
the chapter "The Dwelling" and, even more, the place of
the section to which it belongs ("Interiority and Econ
omy") would thus pose serious architectonic problems,
that is, were architectonics not an "art of the system"
( Kant) and were Totality and Infinity not to begin by call
ing into question systemic totality as the supreme form of
philosophical exposition. For architectonics perhaps al
ways leads philosophy back into the habitability of habi
tation: it is always the interiority of an economy that al
ready poses the problems of welcoming that confront us
here.
Is it not from this abyss that we must now try to inter
pret the writing, language (languages) , and composition
of this singular book, and in it the exposition of welcom
ing, of wel�oming par excellence, on the basis of sexual
difference? We have not yet exhausted these questions, es
pecially since they also concern the section "Beyond the
Face," beginning with "The Ambiguity of Love" and
everything that touches upon femininity in the analysis of
the caress ("Phenomenology of Eros") .
We cannot take up these questions here. Let us simply
note, for now, that "Phenomenology of Eros" remains first
of all and only turned, so to speak, toward the feminine,
oriented, therefore, from a masculine point of view, but
from a point ofview that goes blindly (with no view [point
de vue]) into this place of non-light that would be "The
Feminine" insofar as it is "essentially violable and invio
lable."30 This inviolable violability, this vulnerability of a
A Word of Welcome
being that prohibits violence at the very place it is exposed

to it without defense, is what, in the feminine, seems to .
figure the face itself, even though the feminine "presents a
face that goes beyond the face, " where eros "consists in
going beyond the possible. "3 1
We should never minimize the stakes-or the risks
of these analyses. They seem, in 19 61, to be still borne
along by the elan of analyses Levinas had already devoted
to eros in 1947 in Existence and Existents and Time and the
Other. 32 The feminine there names what allows one to
transcend, in a single movement, at once the ego and the
world of light, and thus a certain phenomenological dom
ination extending from Plato to Husser!' Hence, the fem
inine, which in Totality and Infinity will be "the welcom
ing one par excellence," is already defined, in 19 47, as "the
other par excellence."
The world and light are solitude . . . . It is not possible to

grasp the alterity of the Other, which is to shatter the defini
tiveness of the ego, in terms of any of the relationships which
characterize light. Let us anticipate a moment, and say that
the plane of eros allows us to see that the other par excellence
is the feminine . . Eros, when separated from the Platonic
. .
interpretation vyhich completely fails to recognize the role of

the feminine, can be the theme of a philosophy which, de
tached from the solitude oflight, and consequently from phe
nomenology properly speaking, will concern us elsewhere. 33
During the same period, in Time and the Other, 34 an

analysis of sexual difference (which Levinas insistently re
minds us is not one difference among others, one type or
species of the genre "difference": neither a contradiction
nor a complementarity) leads to analogous propositions.
The feminine is a "mode of being that consists in slipping
away from the light," a "flight before light," a "way of ex
isting" in the "hiding" of modesty.
If these remarks of 1947 in effect announce Totality and

Infinity (19 61), Levinas will revisit certain of these propo
sitions many years later, in 19 8 5 . We will return to this.
Levinas must begin by distinguishing, in short, between
hospitality a.n:d love, since the latter does not accomplish
the former. But he nonetheless acknowledges that "the
transcendence of discourse is bound to love." Since the
transcendence of discourse is not transcendence itself, this
creates a tangle that is difficult to undo. Certain threads go
at once forther and less far than others. Just as with archi
tectonics, an objective topology would remain powerless
to sketch out the lines, surfaces, and volume, the angles
and cornerstones. It would seek in vain to make out the
lines of demarcation, to measure the distances. What sort
of extent are we talking about here? What goes "further"
than language, namely, love, also goes "less far" than it.
But all the threads undeniably pass through the knot of
hospitality. There they are tied together, and there they
come undone: "The metaphysical event of transcen
dence- the welcome ofthe Other, hospitality-Desire and
language--.:is not accomplished as Love. But the transcen
dence of discourse is bound to love. We shall show how
in love transcendence goes both further and less far than
language. " 35
As for the second direction referred to a moment ago,
we must be reminded of this implacable law of hospitality:
the hote who receives (the host) , the one who welcomes
the invited or received hIJte (the guest), the welcoming hote
who considers himself the owner of the place, is in truth a
hote received in his own home. He receives the hospitality
that he offers in his own home; he receives it from his own
home-which, in the end, does· not belong to him. The
hote as host is a guest. The dwelling opens itself to itself, to
its "essence" without essence, as a "land of asylum or
refuge." The one who welcomes is first welcomed in his .

own home. The one who invites is invited by the one
whom he invites. The one who receives is received, receiv
ing hospitality in what he takes to be his own home, or in
deed his own land, according to a law that Rosenzweig
also recalled. For Rosenzweig emphasized this originary
dispossession, this withdrawal by which the "owner" is ex
propriated from what is most his own, the ipse from its ip
seity, thus making of one's home a place or location one is
simply passing through:
even when it has a home, this people [the eternal people] , in

recurrent contrast to all other peoples on earth, is not al
lowed full possession of that home. It is only "a stranger and
a sojourner." God tells it: "This land is mine." The holiness
of the land removed it from the people's spontaneous reach.36
Though the relationship between these propositions of

Rosenzweig and those of Levinas might appear forced or
arbitrary, I believe it necessary, and I will continue to put
it to work, at least implicitly, to relate, on the one hand,
this divine law that would make of the inhabitant a guest
[hote] received in his own home, that would make of the
owner a tenant, C?f the welcoming host [hote] a welcomed
guest [hote], and, on the other, this passage about the fem
inine being as "the welcoming one par excellence," as
"welcoming in itself. " For Levinas thus defines the wel
coming one himself, or rather, herself, welcoming in it
self-and thus that on the basis ofwhich welcoming could
be announced in general-at a precise moment: at the
moment when he deems it necessary to emphasize that
the home is not owned. Or at least it is owned, in a very
singular sense of this word, only insofar as it is already
hospitable to its owner. The head of the household, the
master of the house, is already a received hote, already a
guest in his own home. This absolute precedence of the

welcome, of the welcoming, of welcoming [accueillance] ,
would be precisely the femininity of "Woman," interior
ity as femininity-and as "feminine alterity." As in the
story by Klossowski, assuming that this reference to a
scene of perversion is not too shocking here, the master of
the house becomes the guest of his guest because, first of
all, the woman is there. The experience of pervertibility of
which we spoke above, which at once calls for and ex
cludes the third, here appears indissociably linked to sex
ual difference.
More than one reading could be given of the few lines I
am about to cite. It would be necessary to linger awhile in
their vicinity. One approach would be to acknowledge, so
as then to question, as I once did in a text to which I do
not wish to return here,37 the traditional and androcentric
attribution of certain characteristics to woman (private in
teriority, apolitical domesticity, intimacy of a sociality that
Levinas refers to as a "society without language,"38 etc.) .
But another reading of these lines might be attempted,
one that w?uld not oppose in a polemical or dialectical
fashion either this first reading or this interpretation of
Levinas.
Before situating this other orientation, let us listen
again to the definition of the "hospitable welcome par ex
cellence," "the'welcoming one par excellence," "welcom
ing in itself," that is, "the feminine being":
The home that founds possession is not a possession in the

same sense as the movable goods it can collect and keep. It is
possessed because it already and henceforth is hospitable for
its owner. This refers us to its essential interiority, and to the
inhabitant that inhabits it before every inhabitant, the wel
coming one par excellence, welcoming in itself-the feminine
being. 39
The other approach to this description would no

longer raise concerns about a classical androcentrism. It .
might even, on the contrary, make of this text a sort of
feminist manifesto. For this text defines the welcome par
excellence, the welcome or welcoming of absolute, ab
solutely originary, or even pre-originary hospitality, noth
ing less than the pre-ethical origin of ethics, on the basis
of femininity. That gesture reaches a depth of essential or
meta-empirical radicality that takes sexual difference into
account in an ethics emancipated from ontology. It con
fers the opening of the welcome upon "the feminine be
ing" and not upon the fact of empirical women. The wel
come, the anarchic origin of ethics, belongs to "the di
mension of femininity" and not to the empirical presence
of a human being of the "feminine sex." Levinas antici
pates the objection:
Need one add that there is no question here of defying

ridicule by maintaining the empirical truth or countertruth
that every home in fact presupposes a woman? The feminine
has been encounte,red in this analysis as one of the cardinal
points of the horizon in which the inner life takes place-and
the empirical absence of the human being of "feminine sex" in
a dwelling nowise affects the dimension of femininity which
remains open there, as the very welcome of the dwelling. 40
Need one choose here between two incompatible read

ings, between an androcentric hyperbole and a feminist
one? Is there any place for such a choice in ethics? And in
justice? In law? In politics? Nothing is less certain. With
out stopping for the moment at this alternative, let us
simply keep the following in mind for the trajectory we
are suggesting here: whatever we might speak about later,
and whatever we might say about it, we would do well to
remember, even if silently, that this thought of welcome,
there at the opening of ethics, is indeed marked by sexual

difference. Such sexual difference will never again be neu
tralized. The absolute, absolutely originary welcome, in
deed, the pre-original welcome, the welcoming par excel
lence, is feminine; it takes place in a place that cannot be
appropriated, in an open "interiority" whose hospitality
the master or owner receives before himself then wishing
to give it.
Hospitality thus precedes property, and this will not be
without consequence, as we will see, for the taking-place
of the gift of the law, for the extremely enigmatic relation
ship between refuge and the Torah, the city of refuge, the
land of asylum, Jerusalem, and the Sinai.
II
We will not b e able to carry out here a task that is none

theless so necessary: to· patiently explore this thought of
welcome along every path of its writing, everywhere it itself
follows a trace, writing itself out according to the phrasing
or idiom of Levinas, to be sure, but at the intersection of
many languages, with a fidelity to more than one memory.
Let us thus approach more modestly what is announced
when the word "hospitality," this quasi-synonym of "wel
come," nonetheless comes to determine or perhaps re
strict its features, thereby pointing out to us, between
ethics, politics, and law, certain places, places of the "birth
of the question," as we noted a moment ago, "places" to
which it would perhaps be appropriate to assign the
names "face" and "Sinai," as they have been suggested for
our study today.
The sentence whose reading I interrupted and digressed
from a few moments ago ("It [intentionality, conscious
ness of . .] is attention to speech or welcome of the face,
.
A Word of Welcome
hospitality and not thematization") proposes a series of

equivalences. But what is the copula doing in this serial .
proposition? It binds together phenomena of unbinding
[deliaison] . It assumes that this approach of the face-as
intentionality or welcome, that is, as hospitality-remains
inseparable from separation itself. Hospitality assumes
"radical separation" as experience of the alterity of the
other, as relation to the other, in the sense that Levinas
emphasizes and works with in the word "relation," that is,
in its ferential, referential or, as he sometimes notes, def
erential bearing [portee] . The relation to the other is defer
ence. Such separation signifies the very thing that Levinas
re-names "metaphysics": ethics or first philosophy, as op
posed to ontology. Because it opens itself to-so as to
welcome-the irruption of the idea of infinity in the fi
nite, this metaphysics is an experience of hospitality. Lev
inas thereby justifies the arrival of the word hospitality; he
prepares the threshold for it. The passage meta ta physika
passes through the hospitality of a finite threshold that
opens itself to infinity, but this meta-physical passage takes
place, it comes to pass and passes through the abyss or the
transcendence of separation:
To metaphysical thought, where a finite has the idea of infin

ity-where radical separation and relationship with the other
are produced simultaneously-we have reserved the term in
tentionality, consciousness of . . . It is attention to speech or
welcome of the face, hospitality and not thematization.
The logical articulations of these propositions work

once again like so many elliptical and peaceful acts of
force. The predicative copula of the "is" adjoins and links
concepts according to the law of a certain separation, an
infinite separation without which there would be no hos
pitality worthy of the name.
What does this mean? A deliberate terminological deci

sion assigns the word "metaphysical" to a situation where
"a finite has the idea of infinity"; it claims the right to
"reserve" the use of a word ("To metaphysical thought,
where a finite has the idea of infinity . . . we have reserved
the term intentionality, consciousness of . . . ") . Earlier,
the synchrony of a "simultaneously," which had come
to determine the auto-production of an event that "is
produced" or that "produces itself," equates metaphysics,
the welcome of the other, and "radical separation" ("To
metaphysical thought, where a finite has the idea of infin
ity-where the radical separation is produced and, simulta
neously, the relation with the other-we have reserved the
term intentionality, consciousness of . . . "; my emphasis,
of course) . The sentence that follows ("It is attention to
speech or welcome of the face, hospitality and not thema
tization") retains the discreet gentleness of what some
might nonetheless interpret as the logic of performative
decrees attempting to invent a new language or a new use
for old words. It opens up hospitality by an act of force
that is nothing other than a declaration of peace, the dec
laration of peace itself. We will ask later on what the event
of peace is for Levinas.
The paradoxical use of a copula ("It is attention to
speech or welcome of the face, hospitality and not thema
tization") not only establishes between several substantive
significations an essential bond that stems precisely from
the common unbinding of a radical separation. The cop
ula also bears us toward what will be explicitly situated, a
few pages later, "beyond Being." Such a proposition might
henceforth put forward as hospitality not only intention
ality or consciousness of . . . , to which the grammar of the
"it" and all the appositions that follow clearly refer, but
metaphysics itself, infinity in the finite, radical separation,
A 1VtJrd of Welcome
the relation with the other, etc. The essance41 of what is or,
rather, of what opens beyond being is hospitality.
One might draw from this a rather abrupt conclusion,
in a language that is no longer literally that of Levinas:
hospitality is infinite or it is not at all; it is granted upon
the welcoming of the idea of infinity, and thus of the un
conditional, and it is on the basis of its opening that one
can say, as Levinas will a bit further on, that "ethics is not
a branch of philosophy, but first philosophy."42
Now, how can this infinite and thus unconditional hos
pitality, this hospitality at the opening of ethics, be regu
lated in a particular political or juridical practice? How
might it, in turn, regulate a particular politics or law?
Might it give rise to-keeping the same names-a poli
tics, a law, or a justice for which none of the concepts we
have inherited under these names would be adequate? To
deduce from the presence in my finitude of the idea of in
finity that consciousness is hospitality, that the cogito is a
hospitality offered or given, an infinite welcome, is a step
that the French knight who walked at such a good pace
would perhaps not so easily have taken, even ifLevinas of
ten appeals to him.43
Because intentionality is hospitality, it resists thematiza
tion. An act without activity, reason as receptivity, a sensi
ble and rational experience of receiving, a gesture of wel
coming, a welcome offered to the other as stranger, hospi
tality opens as intentionality, but it cannot become an
object, thing, or theme. Thematization, on the contrary,
already presupposes hospitality, welcoming, intentionality,
the face. The closing of the door, inhospitality, war, and al
lergy already imply, as their possibility, a hospitality of
fered or received: an original or, more precisely, pre-origi
nary declaration of peace. Here is perhaps one of the most
formidable traits in the logic of an extremely complex re-
lation with the Kantian legacy that-as we will see-dis

tinguishes ethical or originary peace (originary but not
natural: it would be better to say pre-originary, an-archic),
according to Levinas, from "perpetual peace" and from a
universal, cosmo-politica� and thus politicai and juridical
hospitality, the hospitality that Kant reminds us must be
instituted in order to interrupt a bellicose state of nature,
to break with a nature that knows only actual or virtual
war. Instituted as peace, universal hospitality must, ac
cording to Kant, put an end to natural hostility. For Lev
inas, on the contrary, allergy, the refusal or forgetting of
the face, comes to inscribe its secondary negativity against
a backdrop of peace, against the backdrop of a hospitality
that does not belong to the order of the political, or at
least not simply to a political space. Here is perhaps a sec
ond difference from Kant. Whereas the Kantian concept
of peace is apparently juridical and political, the correlate
of an inter-state and republican institution, Levinas, at the
end of "Politics After!," puts forward the suggestion (and
"suggestion" is his word, just about the last one of "Politics
After!") that "peace is a concept that goes beyond purely
political thought."44 A distant but faithful echo of the de
claration of peace that opens the Preface of Totality and
Infinity: "Of peace there can be only an eschatology."
Like a short treatise on "war and. peace," this Preface
also removes the concept of prophetic eschatology from
its usual philosophical applicability, from the horizon of
history or of an end of history. This peace of which there
can be only an eschatology "does not take place in the ob
jective history disclosed by war, as the end of that war or
as the end of history. "45
Let us temporarily abandon these few indicative refer
ences. They were intended simply to justifY, though from
afar, the necessity of going back to the extraordinary com-
A Word of Welcome
plexity of this problematic, in Kant and in Levinas, be

tween the Kant of Toward Perpetual Peace [Zum ewigen .
Frieden] and the question of the ethical, the juridical, and
the political in Levinas's thought of hospitality.
Intentionality is hospitality, then, says Levinas quite lit
erally. The force of this copula carries hospitality very far.
There is not some intentional experience that, here or
there, would or would not undergo the circumscribed ex
perience of something that would come to be called, in a
determining and determinable fashion, hospitality. No,
intentionality opens, from its own threshold, in its most
general structure, as hospitality, as welcoming of the face,
as an ethics of hospitality, and, thus, as ethics in general.
For hospitality is not simply some region of ethics, let
alone, and we will return to this, the name of a problem in
law or politics: it is ethicity itsel£ the whole and the prin
ciple of ethics. And if hospitality does not let itself be cir
cumscribed or derived, if it originarily conveys the whole
of intentional experience, then it would have no contrary:
the phenomena of allergy, rejection, xenophobia, even war
itself would still exhibit everything that Levinas explicitly
attributes to or allies with hospitality. He insisted on un
derscoring this, it seems to me, in an interview where he
said, though I cannot recall his exact words, that the worst
torturer attests-since he does not save it-to the very
thing that he destroys, in himself or in the other, namely,
the face. "Whether it wants to or not, whether we realize it
or not, hostility still attests to hospitality: "radical separa
tion," "relation with the other," "intentionality, conscious
ness of . . . , attention to speech or welcome of the face."
In other words, there is no intentionality before and
without this welcoming of the face that is called hospital
ity. And there is no welcoming of the face without this
discourse that is justice, "the uprightness of the welcome
made to the face," as these words from the final pages of

Totality and Infinity affirm: "the essence of language is
goodness, or again, . . . the essence of language is friend
ship and hospitality. "46
Reciprocally; one would understand nothing about hos
pitality without clarifying it through a phenomenology of
intentionality, a phenomenology that renounces, however,
where necessary, thematization. That is indeed a mutation,
a leap, a radical but discreet and paradoxical heterogeneity
introduced into phenomenology by the ethics of hospital
ity. Levinas also interprets it as a singular interruption, a
suspension or epoche ofphenomenology itself, even more
and even earlier than a phenomenological epoche.
It is tempting to relate this interruption to the one that
introduces radical separation, that is to say, the condition
of hospitality. For the interruption marked by ethical dis
course on the inside of phenomenology, in its inside-out
side, is like no other. Phenomenology imposes this inter
ruption upon itself; it interrupts itself This interruption
of the self by the self, if such a thing is possible, can or
must be taken up by thought: this is ethical discourse
and it is also-, as the limit of thematization, hospitality. Is
not hospitality an interruption of the self?
(A certain interruption of phenomenology by itself al
ready imposed itself upon Husserl, though he did not, it
is true, take note of it as an ethical necessity. This hap
pened when it became necessary to renounce the principle
of principles of originary intuition or of presentation in
person, "in the flesh." That this became necessary in the
Cartesian Meditations precisely when it was a question of
the other, of an alter ego that never makes itself accessible
except by way of an appresentational analogy and so re
mains radically separated, inaccessible to originary per
ception, is not insignificant for either Husserlian phenom-
enology or Levinas's discourse on the transcendence of the

Other-a discourse that has also in its own way inherited .
this interruption. What is said here of the other cannot be
separated, as we have insisted elsewhere, from alterity as
the movement of temporalization. In other words, "Time
and the Other," to cite a title.)
One will understand nothing about hospitality if one
does not understand what "interrupting oneself" might
mean, the interruption of the self by the self as other. A
note in "Proximity" makes this clear by speaking of "ethi
cal language, which phenomenology resorts to in order to
mark its own interruption."47 This ethical language "does
not come from an ethical intervention laid out over de
scriptions. It is the very meaning of approach, which con
trasts with knowing."
The interruption is not imposed on phenomenology as
if by decree. In the very course of phenomenological de
.scription, following an intentional analysis faithful to its
movement, its style, and its norms, the interruption is pro
duced (by itself) [se produit] . It is decided (by itself) [se de
cide] in the name of ethics, as interruption of the self by
the self Interruption of the self by a phenomenology that
gives itself over to its own necessity, to its own law, right
where this law orders it to interrupt thematization, which
also means to be unfaithful to itself out of fidelity to itself,
out of this fidelity "to intentional analysis" that Levinas al
ways claimed.48 This fidelity that makes one unfaithful is
the respect for consciousness of . . . as hospitality.
Levinas himself considers this interruption of self to be
a "paradox." This paradox translates the "enigma" of a face
that presents itself, if one can say this, only at the point
where, withdrawing in discretion, it is "refractory to dis
closure or unveiling and manifestation," if not to the light
of "glory." What thus turns out to be interrupted, rather
than torn or lifted up, sublated, in the first moment of

hospitality is nothing less than the figure of the veil and of
truth as revelation, as unveiling or even as veiling/unveil
ing. This note from "Proximity" was called for by an
analysis of the "face as a trace," which "indicates its own
absence in my responsibility" and "requires a description
that can be formed only in ethical language. "
This ethical language of phenomenology describes pre
scription at the point where prescription lets itself be de
scribed only by already prescribing, by still prescribing.
One can always interpret phenomenological discourse as
at once prescription and the neutral description of the fact
of prescription. This neutralization always remains possi
ble, and is always to be feared. It is no doubt one of the
dangers Levinas is trying to fend off each time he criticizes
neutralization or neutrality-the one he imputes to Hei
degger and, curiously, credits Blanchot with having "con
tributed to bring out. "49
Through a series of analytical propositions relating hos
pitality to the metaphysics of the face, a redefinition of the
subjectivity of the subject names in passing welcoming,
habitation, and the home. These themes, we recall, are
treated earlier in Totality and Infinity under the title "The
Dwelling, "50 where Levinas speaks of the "at home with
oneself" beyond the "for oneself," of the "land of asylum
or refuge" and, before all else, of the feminine: "feminine
alterity," welcome par excellence, gentleness of the femi
nine face, feminine language that keeps silent in the dis
cretion of a silence that has nothing natural or animal-like
about it, etc.
If the category of the welcome everywhere determines
an opening that would come even before the premiere,
before the opening, it can never be reduced to an indeter
minate figure of space, to some sort of aperture or open-
ing to phenomenality (for example, in the Heideggerian

sense of Erschliessung, Erschlossenheit, or Offenheit) . The
welcome orients, it turns the topos of an opening of the
door and of the threshold toward the other;51 it offers it to
the other as other, where the as such of the other slips away
from phenomenality, and, even more so, from thematicity.
The vocabulary of welcoming, the noun "welcome" and
the verb "to welcome," thus everywhere and with an ex
ceptional frequency provide the keys, as it were, to this
book. In the "Conclusions," for example: "In the welcome
made to the Other I welcome the Most High to which my
freedom is subordinated. "52
The subordination of freedom indicates a subjection of
the subjectum, certainly, but a subjecting that, rather than
depriving the subject of its birth and its freedom, actually
gives [donne] it its birth, along with the freedom that is
thereby ordained [ordonnee] . It is still a question of subjec
tivation, but not in the sense of interiorization; rather, the
subject comes to itself in the movement whereby it wel
comes the Wholly Other as the Most High. This subordi
nation ordains [ordonne] and gives [donne] the subjectivity
of the subject. The welcome of the Most High in the wel
come of the Other is subjectivity itself The paragraph that
we began to read - ("It is attention to- speech or welcome of
the face, hospitality and not thematization") comes to
gether in conclusion in a sort of theorem or definitional
proposition. It ends by re-defining subjectivity as hospital
ity, separation without negation and thus without exclu
sion, aphoristic energy of the unbinding [deliaison] in eth
ical affirmation: "It [self-consciousness "in its home"] thus
accomplishes separation positively, without being re
ducible to a negation of the being from which it separates.
But thus precisely it can welcome that being. The subject
is a host. "53
The subject: a host. A startling equation, and it would

not take much, it seems to me, to make it resonate,
consonate, and appear together with another formula that
will emerge some years later, in "Substitution" and then
in Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence. Just as brief,
dense, and aphoristic, this second sentence does not say,
or no longer says, "The subject is a host" but "The subject
is hostage,"54 or else, a bit further, "The ipseity . . . is
hostage."
Does this amount to the same thing? To the same in the
relation to the other? Are these two propositions talking
about the same subjectivity of the subject?
This being-"hostage" of the subject surely is not, any
more than its being-"host," some late attribute or accident
that would supervene upon it. Like the being-host, the
being-hostage is the subjectivity of the subject as "respon
sibility for the Other":
Responsibility for the Other is not an accident that happens

to a subject, but precedes essence in it, has not awaited free
dom, in which a commitment to the Other would have
been made. I have not done anything and I have always
been under accusation-persecuted. The ipseity, in the pas
sivity without arche characteristic of identity, is hostage. The
word I means here I am, answering for everything and for
everyone. 55
What, then, is this formula "The subject is hostage"

doing? It is marking a scansion, a strong punctuation in
the unfolding of a logic of substitution. The hostage is
first of all someone whose unicity endures the possibility
of a substitution. It undergoes this substitution; it is a
subject subjected to it, a subject that submits at the very
moment when it presents itself ("here I am") in its re
sponsibility for others. Substitution thus takes over for
A Word of Welcome
the "subordination" (the constitution of subjectivity in

subjection, in being subjected, in subjectivation) that we
j ust situated in Totality and Infinity. Inseparable from a
new conceptual and lexical configuration, from new
words or words struck with a new impression ("vulnera
bili ty," "traumatism," "psychosis," "accusation," "perse
cution, " "obsession, " etc.) , "substitution" carries forth
quite continuously, it seems to me, the elan and the
"logic" of Totality and Infinity, though it dislodges even
more drastically the primacy of intentionality, at least
what would still link this primacy to that of a "will" or an
"activity." If the illeity of the third always marks, as we
saw, the birth of the question at the same time as the "it
is necessary" ofjustice, the word "question" is now forced
to adapt to the situation of the hostage: the subject is
hostage insofar as it is less a "question" than " in ques
tion. " Its accusation, its persecution, its obsession, its
"persecuting obsession" is its "being-in-question." Not
the being of the questioner or of the questioned, but the
being-in-question, where, so to speak, it finds itselfunder
accusation [ mis en cause] , where it passively finds itselfand
finds itself contested, interpellated, implicated, perse
cuted, under accusation. We must thus think-and think
as having, in the- end, the same aim-this other way of
inhabiting, of welcoming or of being welcomed. The
host [hote] is a hostage insofar as he is a subject put into
question, obsessed (and thus besieged), persecuted, in
the very place where he takes place, where, as emigrant,
exile, stranger, a guest [hote] from the very beginning, he
finds himself elected to or taken up by a residence [tlu a
domicile] before himself electing or taking one up [tlire
domicile] .
The subjectivity of a subject is responsibility or being-in
question in the form of the total exposure to offense in the
cheek offered to the smiter.56 This responsibility is prior to

dialogue, to the exchange of questions and answers . . . .
The recurrence of persecution in the oneself is thus irre
ducible to intentionality in which, even in its neutrality as a
contemplative movement, the will is affirmed. . . . The re
currence of the self in responsibility for others, a persecuting
obsession, goes against intentionality, such that responsibil
ity for others could never mean altruistic wilL . . . It is in the
passivity of obsession, or incarnated passivity, that an iden
tity individuates itself as unique, without recourse to any sys
tem of references, in the impossibility of evading the assigna
tion of the other without blame . . . . under accusation by
everyone, the responsibility for everyone goes to the point of
substitution. The subject is hostageY
We are moving about here in the obscure environs of a

semantic, if not etymological, kinship between host and
hostage, between the subject as host and the subject (or ip
seity) as hostage. Whether we understand by the word
"hostage" (ostage) a guest [hate] given over or received as a
substitutive pledge [gage] in places of power and at the
disposal of a sovereign, or whether we understand obsid
ium or obsidatus (the condition of being hostage or cap
tive) on the basis of an obsidional situation, a state of
siege, we can, according to both lineages, find a token or
proof [gage] of substitution ("accusation by everyone, "
"responsibility for everyone"), that is, the passage Levinas
clears between these two figures of the same ethics: hospi
tality without property and the "persecuting obsession" of
the hostage. The genealogy that links the term "ipseity,"
always at the center of Levinas's discourse, to .the seman
tics of hospitality, to the hospes as hosti-pet-s, namely, the
guest-master, where the significations of the self, of mas
tery, possession, and power are intertwined in a very tight
web, in proximity to the hostility of the hostis-this ge
nealogy, which we recalled earlier, is here affirmed. 58
A "WOrd of Welcome
III
Against the backdrop of these enormous difficulties, we

might here, today, note the emergence of at least three
types ofquestion. We will attempt simply to situate them
and then devote very unequal analyses to them-unequal
with regard to one another and with regard to what is at
stake in each.
1. First there is the question of a trajectory, extending

over a number of years, between these two brief and ex
plicit definitions of the subject in the form 5 is P: "the
subject is host" and "the subject is hostage. " Two predica
tive propositions whose subject remains the subject. Does
this at once logical and historical traj ectory translate an
equivalence? Or does it displace and thereby transform
once again a concept of the subject that, already in Total
ity and Infinity, subordinates the ontological tradition to
an ethics of hospitality, to a phenomenological analysis of
the welcome, to the height of the face?
2. In the course of this trajectory, what becomes of the
welcome when tp.e subject-host takes on the attribute of
being-hostage, along with all the concepts that here form
a chain (substitution of the irreplaceable assigned to its re- .
sponsibility, "unlimited accusative of persecution," "the
self, a hostage . . . already substituted for the others,"59
"the signification of the pronoun self for which our Latin
grammars themselves know no nominative form, "60 debt
before any borrowing and before any commitment, re
sponsibility without freedom, traumatism, obsession, per.;.
secution, the irreducibility of sacrifice, etc., in other
words, the law of the accusative in the welcome) ?
Does not such a "reverting"-this is Levinas's word,
and it describes the movement of ethics, the ethical rela

tion-make appear a quasi-moment that would precede
any welcoming? The very welcoming that might have ap
peared up until now originary or even pre-original? What
relation is to be established between the hypothesis of this
"reverting" and the concepts of election or the political as
they were articulated during the same years?
I am unable to develop this second question here, but
I will support it, as a question that remains a question,
with two references to "Substitution" in Otherwise than
Being.
A. The first names an election that, in a strange but sig
nificant, indeed absolutely exceptional fashion, would pre
cede any welcome that the subject might reserve for any
thing, in particular, for the Good or goodness. The elec
tive assignation chooses me by preceding me and making
my capacity to welcome conform to it. This certainly does
not contradict what we read in Totality and Infinity, where
the welcome welcomes beyond itself, where it must, in
truth, always welcome more than it can welcome. But
here, in the assignation of responsibility, the election of
the hostage seems not only more "origiriary" (in truth, as
always, more originary than the origin) but violent, in
deed traumatizing-more so, it seems, than the some
times pacifying vocabulary of the welcome and of the hos
pitality of the host might suggest. Levinas thus speaks,
though this is only an example, of
the difference in the non-indifference of the Good, which

elects me before I welcome it. [I emphasize these last words.] It
preserves its illeity to the point of letting it be excluded from
the analysis, save for the trace it leaves in words or the "ob
jective reality" in thoughts, according to the unimpeachable
witness of Descartes' Third Meditation. That in the respon
sibility for another, the ego, already a self, already obsessed
by the neighbor, would be unique and irreplaceable is what

confirms its election.61
Once again "illeity," the emergence of the question, of

the third, and of justice, designates sometimes the inter
ruption of the face to face, sometimes the very transcen
dence of the face in the face to face, the condition of the
You, the rupture of the 1- Thou (and thus of a certain fem
ininity, a certain experience of "feminine alterity") in the
proximity of the neighbor. But this "sometimes, some
times" implies neither an alternative nor a sequentiality:
the two movements contend with one another at some
time earlier than this "sometimes, sometimes. " They do
not wait; they do not wait for one another. Already in To
tality and Infinity Levinas acknowledges this "presence of
the third" and the question of justice that emerges from
thefirst instant, if we can say this, of the face, as if on the
threshold of the face to face: "The third looks at me in the
eyes of the Other-language is justice. It is not that there
first would be the face, and then the being it manifests or
expresses would concern himself with justice . . . . By
essence the prophetic word responds to the epiphany of
the face . . . the epiphany of the face inasmuch as it attests
the presence of the third. "62
Given the impossible possibility toward which we are
thus hurried (the aporia or abyss), this contending with
out alternative might overdetermine all the questions that
assail us here. The contending of a "He [II] in the depth
of the You [Tu]," a formula by which Levinas relates three
occurrences [instances] that we must endlessly welcome
[accueillir] together-or recollect [recueillir] as the same,
yes, the wholly other as the same, the same He, the sepa
rated one: the illeity of the He ("He in the depth of the
You") as the third person, holiness and separation: "The
Desirable is intangible and separates itself from the rela-
A Word of Welcome 6I
tionship with Desire which it calls for; through this sepa

ration or holiness it remains a third person, the He in the
depth of the You. "63
The meshes or links of this chain bear all their force to
ward this point of rupture or translation: "ethics," the
word "ethics," is only an approximate equivalent, a make
shift Greek word for the Hebraic discourse on the holiness
of the separated (kadosh). Which is not to be confused
especially not-with sacredness. But in what language is
this possible? The welcome of the separated, the move
ment of the one who becomes separated in welcoming
when it becomes necessary to greet the infinite transcen
dence of a separated holiness, to say yes at the moment of
a separation, indeed of a departure that is not the contrary
of an arrival-is it not this deference that inspires the
breath of an a-Dieu?
B. The second reference turns us toward another possi
ble meaning for such a "reverting": an excess of the ethical
over the political, an "ethics beyond the political." What
might "beyond" mean in a passage from "Substitution"
that takes up what we noted earlier about this "paradox,"
namely, the interruption ofself, the interruption of self in
phenomenology-by phenomenology itself, which thus
surprises and suspends itself at the very moment of taking
leave of itself in itself? Ethics beyond the political-that is
the paradoxical reverting into which phenomenology
would find itself "thrown":
Phenomenology can follow out the reverting of thematiza

tion into anarchy in the description of the approach [that is,
the approach as the experience of the welcoming of the other
or of the face as a neighbor] . Then ethical language succeeds
in expressing the paradox in which phenomenology finds it
self abruptly thrown. For ethics, beyond thepolitica4 is found
at the level of this reverting. Starting with the approach, the
A Word of Welcome
description finds the neighbor bearing the trace of a with

4
drawal that orders it as a face. 6
"The trace of a withdrawal that orders it as a face": this

withdrawal disjoins time itself If it were produced only in
time, in the time of everyday representation, the with
drawal would come to modify only the presence of the pre
sent, the now-present, the past-present, or the future-pre
sent. But here, this withdrawal, this trace of the face, dislo
cates the order of temporal presence and representation.
Translated into the vocabulary of hospitality, this trace of
the face, of the visage, would be called visitation ('� face is
of itself a visitation and a transcendence") .65 The trace of
this visitation disjoins and disturbs, as can happen during
an unexpected, unhoped-for, or dreaded visit, expected or
awaited beyond all awaiting, like a messianic visit, perhaps,
but first of all because its past, the "passing" [passee] of the
guest, exceeds all anamnestic representation; it would never
belong to the memory of a past present:
it is in the trace of the other that a face shines: what is pre

sented there is absolving itself from my life and visits me as al
ready ab-solute. Someone has already passed. His trace does
not signify his pas�, as it does not signify his labor or his enjoy
ment in the world; it is a disturbance imprinting itself (we are
tempted to say engraving itself) with an irrecusable gravity. . . .
The God who passed is not the model of which the face
would be an image. To be in the image of God does not
mean to be an icon of God, but to find oneself in his trace.
The revealed God of our Judeo-Christian spirituality main
tains all the infinity of his absence, which is in the personal
"order" itself He shows himself only by his trace, as is said in
Exodus 33 .66
Revelation, therefore, as visitation, from a place that

would be common to "our Judeo-Christian spirituality."
A Word of Welcome
Are we to call this place Sinai, as this reference to chapter

33 of Exodus invites us to? In the words visit and visita
tion, is it really a question of translating this trace of the
other into the vocabulary of hospitality, as we have
seemed to assume? Must one not, on the contrary, refer
the phenomenon and the possibility of hospitality back to
this passing [passee] of visitation so as, first of all, to re
translate them? Does not hospitality follow, even if just by
a second of secondariness, the unforeseeable and irre
sistible irruption of a visitation? And will not this inverse
translation find its limit, the limit of the liminal itself,
there where it is necessary to arrive, that is, at the place
where, as past visitation, the trace of the other passes or
has already passed the threshold, awaiting neither invita
tion nor hospitality nor welcome? This visit is not a re
sponse to an invitation; it exceeds every dialogical relation
between host and guest. It must, from all time, have ex
ceeded them. Its traumatizing effraction must have pre
ceded what is so easily called hospitality-even, as dis
turbing and pervertible as they already appear, the laws of
hospitality.
3 . Finally, in the wake of this last reference, yet another
question, that of the enigmatic relationship in Levinas's
thought between an ethics and a politics of hospitality
or of the hostage. And precisely in the place where what is
situated by the Sinai, or by the name of the Sinai, by the
name "Sinai," belongs to several disjointed times, to sev
eral different occurrences that it is perhaps up to us to
think together, without, however, synchronizing them or
ordering them according to some grand chronology.
In a time that it is already difficult to hold as one and to
bend to the homogeneity of a narrative without internal
rupture, the name Sinai cannot but signify, obviously, at
once the place where the Torah was given, the sacred an-
A Word of Welcome
nointing oil of messianity, the ark of the covenant, the

tablets of the covenant written by the hand of God; but .
then also the tablets given by God after he retracts the evil
with which he had threatened the stiff-necked people
(first rupture or interruption), then the tablets broken (an
other interruption) , then the tablets cut anew after God
had in some sense again interrupted all theophany by for
bidding, in the passing of his glory, the vision of his face
in a face to face, then the place of the re-newed Covenant,
then the veiling and unveiling of the face of Moses. So
many interruptions ofself, so many discontinuities in his
tory, so many ruptures in the ordinary course of time,
caesuras that nonetheless make up the very historicity of .
history.
But today Sinai is also, still in relation to the singular
history of Israel, a name from modernity. Sinai, the Sinai:
a metonymy for the border or frontier between Israel and
the other nations, a front and a frontier between war and
peace, a provocation to think the passage between the eth
ical, the messianic, eschatology, and the political, at a mo
ment in the history of humanity and of the Nation-State
when the persecution of all these hostages-the foreigner,
the immigrant (with or without papers), the exile, the
refugee, those without a country, or a State, the displaced
person or population (so many distinctions that call for
careful analysis) -seems, on every continent, open to a
cruelty without precedent. Levinas never turned his eyes
away from this violence and this distress, whether he
spoke of it directly or not, in one way or another.
Allow me here to grant some privilege to a passage that

names at once Sinai and hospitality. It belongs to the tal
mudic readings that bear the title In the Time ofthe Na-
A Word of Welcome
tions (A l'heure des nations, I9 88). In the chapter "The Na

tions and the Presence of Israel," the tide of a subchapter
specifies "The Nations and Messianic Time." After having
begun to comment on a psalm cited in the Tractate Pe
sahim, u8b, after having approached it with both rigor
and inventiveness, with the difficult freedom that was his,
Levinas throws out a question. He appears to leave it open
and suspended, as if he were pretending to let it float in
midair at the very moment he knows it to be held by so
many threads, all barely visible and yet quite strong, fol
lowing a discreet but nonetheless tenacious argument.
The question in question hardly forms a sentence; it is a
proposition without a verb, the tense or time of a few
words followed by a question mark.
I would not want to overinterpret this curious concern,
curious to question and to know, curious like a specula
tion, curious to see come, this at once timid and provoca
tive hypothesis, secretly mischievous and j ubilant, per
haps, in the discretion of its very ellipsis. It is contained in
just a couple of words:
A recognition ofthe Torah before Sinai?

Let us venture a first translation: would there be a
recognition of the law before the event, and thus outside
the localizable event, before the singular, dated, and situ
ated taking-place of the gift of the Torah to a people?
Would there be such a recognition? Would it have been
possible and thinkable? Before all revelation? A recogni
tion of the Torah by the peoples or the nations for whom
the name, the place, the event Sinai would mean nothing?
Or nothing of what they mean for Israel or for what is
named in the language of Israel? A recognition, in short,
by some third? By some third following the play of substi
tution that would replace the unique with the unique?
The intrigue of this intriguing question, which, again, I

do not want to take too far, even though the stakes are so
high, is indeed a test of hospitality. A hospitality beyond
all revelation. It is not a question, for Levinas, of calling
into question the election of Israel, its unicity or its uni
versal exemplarity, but, quite to the contrary, a question of
recognizing a universal message for which it has responsi
bility before or independently of the place and the event
of the gift of the law: human universality, humanitarian
hospitality uprooted from a singularity of the event that
would then become empirical, or at the most allegorical,
perhaps only "political" in a very restricted sense of this
term that will have to be clarified.
But the lesson to be drawn from this question or this
interpretative speculation, the lesson of this lesson, would
be yet another lesson for Israel to draw in its ethics-I
dare not yet say its messianic politics-of hospitality. Of
course, in this passage Israel does not primarily name the
modern State, the one that bears, that gave itself or took
for itself, the name Israel. But since the name "Israel" in
thi� text does not name something else either, the histori
cal and political space of these assigned names remains
open.
To be more precise, let us try to reconstitute at least a
part of the context, which would obviously call for a more
patient reading. The psalm cited clearly describes a the-.
ater and some of the rites of hospitality:
He also told him another thing: "Egypt will bring a gift to

the Messiah in the future. He thought he should not accept
it, corning from them, but the Holy One, Blessed be He,
will say to the Messiah: 'Accept it from them; [after all] they
took in [my emphasis, naturally] our children in Egypt.'
Whereupon 'important persons will arrive from Egypt' "
[Psalms 68: 32] .67
A Word of Welcome
These last words ("important persons will arrive from

Egypt") cannot help but make us think of the way Levinas
had, a few years earlier, hailed what he called ((Sadat's
grandeur and importance," the ((exceptional transhistori
cal event" that his trip to Jerusalem was, a trip, he added,
((that one neither makes nor is contemporaneous with
twice in a lifetime."68
Now, after having cited this fragment, Levinas orients
his interpretation toward the equivalence of three
concepts-fraternity, humanity, hospitality- that deter
mine an experience of the Torah and of the messianic
times even before or outside of the Sinai, and even for the
one who makes no claim ((to the title of bearer or messen
ger of the Torah."
What announces itself here might be called a structural
or a priori messianicity. Not an ahistorical messianicity,
but one that belongs to a historicity without a particular
and empirically determinable incarnation. Without reve
lation or without the dating of a given revelation. The hy
pothesis I am venturing here is obviously not Levinas's, at
least not in. this form, but it seeks to move in his direc
tion-perhaps to cross his path once more. (�t the heart
of a chiasm," as he said one day.
These three concepts are, then:
1. fraternity (which is central to all of what follows in this

talmudic reading and, in truth, in an explicit fashion, to Lev
inas's entire oeuvre; I have tried to explain elsewhere69 my
concerns about the prevalence of a certain figure of frater
nity, and precisely in a certain relationship to femininity; I
will not pause here to discuss this further, since this is really
not my theme);
2. humanity, precisely as fraternity (the fraternity of the
neighbor, a fundamental and omnipresent implication, a
theme whose both Greek and biblical origin appears inef-
faceable, an equivalence that can also be found in Kant,

among others, within a horizon that is more Christian than
Judaic);
3. hospitality, a hospitality that comes to take on a much
more radical value than it does in the Kant of Toward Perpet
ual Peace and of the cosmopolitical right to universal hospi
tality-yes, cosmopolitical which is to say, only political and
juridical, civil and state (always determined by citizenship) .
But this third concept, hospitality, asylum, the inn (three

words that appear within a page of one another to express
sheltering or giving refuge in the open dwelling) -what
Levinas calls the "place offered to the stranger"-is also
the figural schema that gathers or collects these three con
cepts together, fraternity, humanity, hospitality: the wel
come of the other or of the face as neighbor and as
stranger, as neighbor insofar as he is a stranger, man and
brother. The commentary that follows the citation of the
tractate links these three concepts together according to
the schema of transnational or universal (but let's not say
cosmopolitical) hospitality:
This is the second teaching of Rabbi Yose, transmitted to his
son, Rabbi Ishmael, and communicated by the latter to .
Rabbi and proclaimed by Rav Kahana: The nations are de
termined to take part in the messianic age! [Levinas's excla
mation point: a whole study would have to be devoted to
Levinas's exclamation points, to the meaning, grammar,
rhetoric, ethics, and pragmatics of this punctuation of ad
dress at the heart of a philosophical text. Like the word .
"marvel," which often precedes the exclamation point.] It is
a recognition of the ultimate value of the human message
borne by Judaism, a recognition' reflected in or called for by
the verses of Psalm II7. Has not the history of the nations al
ready been in a sense that glorification of the Eternal in Is
rael, a participation in the history of Israel, which can be as-
A Word of Welcome
sessed by the degree to which their national solidarity is open

to the other, the stranger? A recognition of the Torah before
Sinai? The entire examination of this problem is tacitly re
lated to a verse not quoted: Deuteronomy 23: 8. "Thou shalt
not abhor an Edomite, for he is thy brother; thou shalt not
abhor an Egyptian, because thou wast a stranger in his
land." Fraternity (but what does it mean? Is it not, according
to the Bible, a synonym of humanity?) and hospitality: are
these not stronger than the horror a man may feel for the
other who denies him in his alterity? Do they not already
bring back a memory of the "Word of God"?70
What clearly seems suggested by these last words, "al

ready . . . a memory of the (Word of God,'" is a memory
before memory, the memory of a word that will have taken
place even before taking place, of a past event that is older
than the past and more ancient than any memory ordered
along the lines of an empirically determined string of pre
sents, older than the Sinai, unless the allegorical anachrony
in the name Sinai itself allows it to signify, through its own
body, a foreign body, indeed, the body of the foreigner or
stranger. This would designate precisely the experience of
the stranger, where the truth of the messianic universe ex
ceeds not only the determined place and moment, but also
the identity, especially the national identity, of the bearer
or messenger of the Torah, of the revealed Torah.
That is what the next lines of the commentary would
seem to suggest:
The Talmud will not enumerate all the nations-not even all
those that appear in the Scriptures-and decide on their
possible association with the messianic universe. The three
nations or states or societies mentioned-Egypt, Cush and
Rome-represent a typology of national life, in which,
through the forms of existence that are pure history, there
can be seen the inhuman or the human.
A Word of Welcome
To explain this terrible alternative between the inhu

man and the human, an alternative that already presup
poses the face and peace, and thus hospitality, Levinas de
nounces the laying claim to being the historical messenger
or the privileged-indeed the unique-interpreter of the
Torah: '� allergy to or an aptitude for truth, without lay
ing claim to the title of bearer or messenger of the Torah."
The "without" of this proposition holds a great analytical
power. The analysis seems to unbind or unseal the law
from the event of its message, from the here-now of its
revelation that bears the name Sinai, and the unbinding
of this "without" seems to belong to the experience,
evoked a moment ago, of a Torah before Sinai, of a "recog
nition of the Torah before Sinai," and if not a recognition
without election (for the theme of election is everywhere
at work in Levinas's analysis of ethical responsibility), at
least an election whose assignation cannot be restricted to
some particular place or moment and thus, perhaps,
though one could not by definition ever be certain of this,
to some particular people or nation. Let us never forget
that election is inseparable from what always seems to
contest it: substitution.
An irrecusable necessity, an irresistible force, a force
that is nonetheless made vulnerable by a certain weakness:
this thinking ofsubstitution leads us toward a logic that is
hardly thinkable, almost unsayable, that of the possible
impossible, the iterability and replaceability of the unique
in the very experience of unicity as such.71
IV
By means of discreet though transparent allusions, Lev

inas oriented our gazes toward what is happening today,
not only in Israel but in Europe and in France, in Mrica,
America, and Asia, since at least the time of the First

World War and since what Hannah Arendt called The
Decline of the Nation State: everywhere that refugees of
every kind, immigrants with or without citizenship, exiled
or forced from their homes, whether with or without pa
pers, from the heart of Nazi Europe to the former Yugo
slavia, - from the Middle East to Rwanda, from Zaire all
the way to California, from the Church of St. Bernard to
the thirteenth arrondissement in Paris, Cambodians, Arme
nians, Palestinians, Algerians, and so many others call for
a change in the socio- and geo-political space-a juridico
political mutation, though, before this, assuming that this
limit still has any pertinence, an ethical conversion.
Emmanuel Levinas speaks-indeed, already long ago
began to speak-of this distress and this call. The miracle
of the trace that allows us to read him today and to hear
his voice resonate and thus have meaning for us is taking
place once again. It is intensified, one might say, by the
crimes against hospitality endured by the guests [hates]
and hostages of our time, incarcerated or deported day af
ter day, from concentration camp to detention camp, -
from border -to border, close to us or far away. (Yes, crimes
against hospitality, to be distinguished from an "offense
of hospitality [delit d'hospitalite]," as today it is once
again being called in French law, in the spirit of the de
crees and ordinances of 1 9 3 8 and 1 945 that would pun
ish-and even imprison-anyone taking in a foreigner in
an illegal situation.)
Levinas speaks to us in this way of the gift of the inn, of
shelter and asylum: "God requires him to accept the gift,
reminding him of the asylum offered Israel by the coun
try of Egypt. Asylum that will become a place of slav
ery-but first a place offered to the stranger. Already a
song of glory to the God of Israel!"72 The hospitality of-
fered would thus itself signify a belonging to the mes

sianic order.
Just as he recalled a memory of the immemorial, so
Levinas denounces, in passing, a certain forgetting of the
law. It is once again the moment of welcoming, for wel
coming is the word used to describe the divine decision:
A decision by the Eternal to welcome Egypt's homage. [The
Eternal is the hate (the host) welcoming the hate (the guest),
who pays him homage in a classic scene of hospitality.] The
Bible renders that foreseeable in Deuteronomy 23: 8, a verse
the Messiah himself, despite his justice, must have forgotten.
One belongs to the messianic order when one has been able
to admit others among one's own. That a people should ac
cept those who come and settle among them-even though
they are foreigners with their own customs and clothes, their
own way of speaking, their own smell-that a people should
give them an akhsaniah, such as a place at the inn, and the
wherewithal to breathe and to live-is a song to the glory of
the God of Israel. 73
That a people, as a people, "should accept those who

come and settle among them-even though they are for
eigners," would be the proof [gage] of a popular and
public commitment [engagement] , a political res publica
that cannot be reduced to a sort of "tolerance," unless
this tolerance requires the affirmation of a "love" without
measure. Levinas specifies immediately thereafter that
this duty of hospitality is not only essential to a "Jewish
thought" of the relationships between Israel and the na
tions. It opens the way to the humanity of the human in
general. There is here, then, a daunting logic of election
and exemplarity operating between the assignation of a
singular responsibility and human universality-today
one might even say humanitarian universality insofar as
it would at least try, despite all the difficulties and ambi-
guities, to remain, in the form, for example, of a non

governmental organization, beyond Nation-States and
their politics.
The rest of this passage might today be illustrated, if
this word were not indecent, by all the examples on earth.
For the question of borders is no doubt the question of Is
rael, but the question also goes beyond the border lines of
what is called or what calls itself Israel, in the biblical sense
and in the sense of the modern state. "To shelter the other
in one's own land or home, to tolerate the presence of the
landless and homeless on the 'ancestral soil,' so j ealously,
so meanly loved-is that the criterion of humanness? Un
questionably so."74
This text dates from the 19 80'S. One would have to read
it together with many others that also turn around the
question of the State and the Nation, beginning with the
one to which we alluded earlier, which hails "Sadat's
grandeur and [transhistorical] importance. " One would
also have to go back to the distant premises of this dis
course in Totality and Infinity and Otherwise than Being.
Let us recall at least this sign in a few words: the "Talmu
dic Readin-gs and Lectures" gathered together in 1982 at
the end of Beyond the Verse (under the title-in the
plural-"Zionisms") , "The State of Caesar and the State
of David," 1971, and then "Politics After!, " 1979, multiply
propositions that have a form, and I emphasize form, that
is deliberately contradictory, aporetic, indeed dialectical
(in the sense of a transcendental dialectic) -proportions
at once intra-political and transpolitical, at once for and
against the "state principle," against what Totality and In
finity had already called the "tyranny of the State" (ac
cording to an anti-Hegelian move in the style, at least, of
Rosenzweig) , against the State of Caesar, which, "despite
its participation in the pure essence of the State, is also the
place of corruption par excellence and, perhaps, the ulti

mate refuge of idolatry" ;75 against the State and yet leav
ing to what Levinas calls the "beyond of the State" or the
"going beyond of the State" an opening toward the "cul
mination of the State of David" in the messianic State, a
going beyond of the State toward a "world to come. "76
The going beyond of one State (that of Caesar), the culmi
nation of another (that of David), both of which might
appear utopic or premature, as Levinas recognizes, but
which point to the very opening of the political toward its
future, if it has one. (If one took it as a rule to speak of
"politics" as soon as the word "State" appears, in a more or
less rigorous translation of Polis, then one would have to
ask if this rule applies in the expression "State of David,"
or if the alternative between the State of Caesar and the
State of David is an alternative between a politics and a
beyond of the political, or an alternative between two pol
itics, or, finally, an alternative among others, where one
could not exclude the hypothesis of a State that would be
neither Caesar's nor David's, neither Rome nor Israel nor
Athens. We will close these parenthetical remarks, but not
before insisting on the fact that Levinas does not hesitate
to speak of a "messianic politics," which is to be distin
guished from what we understand by politics in the tradi
tion-in the, let's say, Greek or post-Hellenic tradition
that dominates Western politology. When he says "be
yond politics," "politics" always means this non-messianic
politics of the State, which is transgressed toward its be
yond by that which nonetheless remains a politics, still a
politics, but a messianic politics. It is true that the border
line, the frontier, the semantic identity of all these words
here begins to tremble, and that is the most undeniable ef
fect of this writing, the very thrust of this thought. "The
messianic City," says Levinas, "is not beyond politics,"
and he adds, "the City in its simplest sense is never this

side of the religious."77
Against this backdrop, Levinas ventures a hypothesis
that could be considered rather audacious, in more than
one way: on the one hand, the distinction between the
earthly City and the City of God, between the political
order and the spiritual one, 'would not have in pre- or
post-Christian Judaism the "clear-cut character" it has
in Christianity; on the other hand, it is, paradoxically, be
cause of what Levinas does not hesitate to call, precisely
because of this strict separation, Christianity's "political
indifference," that Christianity has "so often become a
State religion. "78 The political indifference elicits a taste
for power for the sake of power, of whatever kind and at
whatever cost. It would condone the uncontrolled author
itarianism and dogmatism of the Church whenever it
dominates the State. This thesis or hypothesis is appeal
ing, perhaps profound, certainly very rich, but also rather
confidently advanced, if I may say so, and rather quickly
asserted, not only with regard to the link between politi
cal indifference and State religion but especially with re
gard to the presumed absence of State religion outside of
a Christian space: in Islamic lands (Levinas makes no men
tion of this), but also in the land of Israel, although the ex
pression "State religion" is fraught with difficulties in this
case, too elusive for either strictly affirming or denying (as
Levinas is sometimes tempted to do)79 the existence of a
State religion in Israel.
The deliberately aporetic, paradoxical, or undecidable
form of these statements on the political will later find
one of its titles in the lesson of December 5 , I988, in
cluded this past year, after the death of Emmanuel Lev
inas, in Nouvelles lectures talmudiques. In this title, the po
litical seems to defy any topological simplicity: it is "Be-
A Word of Welcome
yond the State in the State. " Beyond-in: transcendence in

immanence, beyond the political, but in the political. In
clusion opened onto the transcendence that it bears, in
corporation of a door [porte] that bears [porte] and opens
onto the beyond of the walls and partitions framing it. At
the risk of causing the identity of the place as well as the
stability of the concept to implode. This lesson assigns to
the transcendence included the space of a "messianic pol
itics," an "acceptable political order that can come to the
human only from the Torah, from its justice, its judges
and its master savants. "80
Just before this, Levinas devotes some time to a Midrash
reading that takes the liberty of isolating the first few
words of a verse: "Here's the Torah: the man who dies. " 81
(We will have to speak again about death, the moment of
the "without response," and about the Torah, about the a
Dieu and the "without response," and, finally, about a
Torah whose hospitality would also protect the dead from
death.) The "democratic State," the only State open to
perfectibility, has just been defined as the only "exception
to the tyrannical rule of political power. " 82 In the course of
these reflections, there arises the question of what comes
to pass, of who comes or what comes to pass, when
Alexander comes into a city of women, only women, who
disarm him with their questions. Alexander ends by con
cluding (a teaching that calls for serious reflection when
one is interested in a politics that would take into account
the voices of women, at home and outside the home) : "I,
Alexander of Macedonia, was a fool before having come
into this country of women in Mrica and before having
taken their advice. " 83
In Beyond the Verse, a subchapter of "The State of Cae
sar and the State of David" entitled "Towards a Monothe
istic Politics" follows one entitled "Beyond the State,"
which follows yet another entitled "Yes to the State."

Now, one cannot overstate the" importance of the discur
sive modalities that here multiply question marks, condi
tionals, and what might be called epochal clauses. These
precautions reflect rhetorical, indeed political, caution less
than they constitute ways of respecting or greeting what
remains to come-a future of which we know nothing.
What comes will never belong to the order of knowledge
or of fore-knowledge.
In the conclusion of "Towards a Monotheistic Politics,"
for example, this epochal reserve is marked in words that
I am about to emphasize ("commitment," "but") : "Israel
had become incapable of thinking a politics which would
bring to perfection its monotheistic message. Henceforth,
the commitment [engagement] has been made. Since 19 48 .
But everything has only just begun."
There is a date here: "since 1948." It recalls an event, the
foundation of a State that commits itselfto being not only
what it also is, in fact and by law-that is, a State like any
other. While neither approving nor disapproving of the ju
ridical fac� the foundation of the modern State of Israel,
consecrated through law by a majority of states in the in
ternational community, Levinas sees in this only a "com
mitment." A huge commitment, but only a commitment.
And since this political history, he says, "has only just be
gun," the betrayal of the commitment, its breach or per
jury, is always possible for what can become a State like any
other, indeed sometimes and in certain respects, some
would say, worse than many others, than certain others.
Everything remains suspended, all statements under sur
veillance, as we will hear, by the cautious vigilance of a con
ditional. The commitment should go "beyond," in Lev
inas's word-beyond the political, beyond a strictly "polit
ical" problem or solution in the national or familial arena.
A Word of Welcome
Henceforth, the commitment has been made. Since 1948. But

everything has only just begun. Israel is no less isolated in its
struggle to complete its extraordinary task than was Abra
ham, who began it four thousand years ago. [This passing
remark on the isolation ofIsrael can be disputed, indeed it is
to my mind disputable, but since it is not strictly essential or
necessary to the argumentative structure that interests me
here, I will simply leave the question open.] But this return
to the land of our ancestors- beyond solving any specific
problems, whether national or familial-would thus mark
one of the greatest events of internal history and, indeed, of
all History. 84
These are the final words of "The State of Caesar and

the State of David." They speak of an unconditional com
mitment, to be sure, but, like the description of the politi
cal event, the interpretation of its future remains couched
in the conditional. (We will return to this. We will also re
turn, in conclusion, to the parenthetical remark with
which I allowed myself to draw off my own parenthetical
remark, thereby detaching it from the argumentative struc
ture that we have privileged and are trying to follow here.)
"Politics After!" : under this title, a cautious interpreta

tion of Zionism attempts to distinguish, rightly or wrongly,
between two major phases. But is it a question of phases?
A question of a historical sequence? Or is it, on the con
trary, a question of two worlds? Of two competing and ir
reconcilable figures? Of two Zionisms that forever fight
over the same time?
Levinas clearly privileges diachrony: there would be
first of all a realist Zionism, more political and, perhaps,
"inadequate to the prophetic ideal." Perhaps more in-
A 'UIOrd of Welcome 79
dined to the current nationalism, this political Zionism

would explain, in pre-Hitlerian Europe and sometimes
still today, a reticence on the part of certain Jews who
align themselves with a "universalist finality. " 85 A second
Zionism would be more open to the eschatological vision
of a holy history, or else, and indeed through this-a pol
itics beyond the political-to what Levinas calls a "politi
cal invention." 86
Whether or not one endorses any of these analyses of
the actual situation of the State of Israel in its political vis
ibility (and I must admit that I do not always do so), the
concern here is incontestable: on the one hand, to interpret
the Zionist commitment, the promise, the sworn faith and
not the Zionist fact, as a movement that carries the polit
ical beyond the political, and thus is caught between the
political and its other; and, on the other hand, to think a
peace that would not be purely political.
Assuming that these two distinctions make any sense
and can be used (concesso non dato), in neither case does
the beyond of the political, the beyond of the purely polit
ical, gestur.e toward the non-political. It announces an
other politics, messianic politics, that of the State of
David as opposed to the State of Caesar, that is, as op
posed to the classical and hegemonic tradition of the State
as it is found in what we must try to identify, with all req
uisite precautions, as our pblitology, the discourse of the
Greco-Roman philosophical tradition on the political, the
City, the State, war and peace. This assumes, of course,
that short of identifying such a thing as Western politol
ogy with itself-something we must keep from doing, es
pecially under the imperial rather than democratic figure
of the State of Caesar-one can nonetheless recognize a
dominant tendency, one that is doser to Caesar than to
David and that would make democracy itself imperialist
in vocation. So many hypotheses, ' and the question of

what is to be understood by this word "political," and
whether the borders of this concept today resist analysis,
remains open. We cannot dirc:ctly approach this question
here. We would need a guiding thread or touchstone in
the context that concerns us. The idea of peace, for exam
ple, in its obvious and continuously reaffirmed affinity
with hospitality. Is peace something political? In what
sense? Under what conditions? How are we to read Lev
inas's "suggestion," in his words, "that peace is a concept
that goes beyond purely political thought"?87
Levinas makes a "suggestion," just a suggestion, at once
confident and uneasy. He does not assert that peace is a
non-political concept, but suggests that this concept per
haps exceeds the political.
What does this imply? A difficult division or partition:
in sum, without being at peace with itsel£ such a concept
of peace retains a political part, it participates in the politi
cal, even if another part of it goes beyond a certain con
cept of the political. The concept exceeds itself, goes be
yond its own borders, which amounts to saying that it in
terrupts itself or deconstructs itself so as to form a sort of
enclave inside and outside of itself: "beyond in," once
again, the politicai interiorization of ethical or messianic
transcendence. (And let us note in passing that each time
this interruption of self takes place or is produced [we have
been following a few examples of this for some time now] ,
each time this delimitation of sel£ which might ' also pass
for an excess or transcendence of sel£ is produced, each
time this topological enclave affects a concept, a process of
deconstruction is in progress, which is no longer a teleo
logical process or even a simple event in the course of his
tory) . As if the word "suggestion" did not suffice to signal
a vigilant circumspection, Levinas goes on to specifY that,
in part, "peace is a concept that goes beyond" not the po

litical, but ''purely political thought." This insistence bears
everything; it is necessary to insist upon purity.
Here, then, is a "concept," peace, the thought of which
would go beyond any thought that would wish to remain
purely political. A "purely political thought" would be in
adequate to this concept. To think this concept of peace,
it would be necessary to leave not the order of the politi
cal, but the order of what Levinas calls the "purely politi
cal." To know what the political is, we would need to
know what the "purely political" is. A fiction for which
Levinas in fact, in another place, excludes the possibility
of ever taking shape, of ever being embodied, of ever tak
ing on a real body, since, as we have heard, "the City in its
simplest sense is never this side of the religious." Indeed,
he speaks of this not purely political peace in the context
of inventing the political, of a "political invention," more
precisely, of "creating on its land [the land of the State of
Israel] the concrete conditions for political invention. " 8 8
Has this political invention in Israel ever come to pass?
Ever come to pass in Israel? This is perhaps not the place
to pose this question, certainly not to answer it; we would
not have the time, and indeed not just the time, for all the
requisite analyses-but does one have the right here to si
lence the anxiety of such an interrogation, before these
words of Levinas, and in the spirit that inspires them?
Would such a silence be worthy of the responsibilities that
we have been assigned? First of all, before Emmanuel Lev
inas himself? I am among those who await this "political
invention" in Israel, among those who call for it in hope,
today more than ever because of the despair that recent
events, to mention only them, have not attenuated (for
example, though these are just examples from yesterday
and today, the renewed support of colonial "settlements"
A Word of Welcome
or the decision by the supreme Court authorizing torture,

and, more generally, all the initiatives that suspend, derail,
or interrupt what continues to be called, in this manner of
speaking, the "peace process") .
In any case, even if this suggestion of Levinas remains,
in the end, enigmatic, it gestures toward a peace that is
neither purely political, in the traditional sense of this
term, nor simply apolitical. It belongs to a context where
the reaffirmation of ethics, the subjectivity of the host as
the subjectivity of the hostage, broaches the passage from
the political toward the beyond of the political or toward
the "already non-political. " Where are the borders be
tween the "already" and the "not yet"? Between politics
and the non-political? A few pages earlier Levinas writes:
From the outset, self-assertion is responsibility for everyone.

Political and already non-political Epic and Passion. Irre
pressible energy and extreme vulnerability. After the realism
of its political formulations at the beginning, Zionism is fi
nally revealing itself, on the scale of substantial Judaism, as a
great ambition of the Spirit. 89
What does "already" mean in the expression "and al

ready non-political"? How might this "and already non-"
eat into what it still is, namely, "political"? Or how might
it let itself be eaten into by what it already no longer is,
that is, "political," by what is still eating into it? What
does "political" mean when one appeals to a peace whose
"concept . . . goes beyond purely political thought"?
These words belong to a text entitled "Politics After!,"
published in 1979 in Les temps modernes and reprinted in
1982 in Lau-dela du verset [later translated as Beyond the
Verse] . Followed by an exclamation point, the title "Poli
tics After!" seems clear: let politics come after, in second
place! The primordial or final injunction, what is most ur-
A "lX0rd of Welcome
gent, would not be first of all political, purely political.

Politics or the political should follow, come "after"; it must
be subordinated-whether in logical consequence or
chronological sequence-to an injunction that transcends
the political order. As far as the political order is con
cerned, we will see afterwards, it will come later; politics
will follow, like day-to-day operations: "Politics After!"
"We are following in the wake of Sadat's trip to Jeru
salem, an act of quasi-messianic audacity, hailed as this
"exceptional transhistorical event that one neither makes
nor is contemporaneous with twice in a lifetime . . . . All
the impossible becoming possible. "90
One might be tempted to transpose or reverse things to
day. This expression-"all the impossible becoming possi
ble" -does not sound like a merely fortuitous echo of the
"possibility of the impossible" of which "Substitution"
speaks with regard to an absolute passivity, which is not
that of death (in the Heideggerian sense of the possibility
of the impossible), but the condition of the hostage, of the
"1 am a hostage" and of the "infinite responsibility" that
obligates me toward the neighbor as the third, a "passivity
that is not only the possibility of death in being, the pos
sibility of impossibility, but an impossibility that is prior
to this possibility, the impossibility ofslipping away." Our
responsibility, in short, before or prior to death, standing
before death, before the dead, beyond death. Here, now,
the impossible has become possible. Since the coming of
Sadat to Jerusalem. Did not Sadat in fact understand
the opportunities opened up through friendship with Is

rael-or simply through already recognizing its existence
and entering into talks-and all the prophetic promises that
are hidden behind the Zionist claim to historical rights and
its contortions under the political yoke? All injustices, capa
ble of being put right.
A WOrd 0/ Welcome
Levinas continues:
All the impossible becoming possible. Which less lofty minds

among Sadat's enemies in the Near East, or his friends in our
proud West, have never sensed, plunged as they are in their
political bookkeeping. ''A State like any other" and a lot of elo
quence? Oh really! So there would be no alternative between
recourse to unscrupulous methods whose model is furnished
by Realpolitik and the irritating rhetoric of a careless idealism,
lost in utopian dreams but crumbling into dust on contact
with reality or turning into a dangerous, impudent and facile
frenzy which professes to be taking up the prophetic dis
course? Beyond the State ofIsrael's concern to provide a refuge
for men without a homeland and its sometimes surprising,
sometimes uncertain achievements, has it not, above all, been
a question of creating on its land the concrete conditions for
political invention? That is the ultimate culmination of Zion
ism, and thereby probably one of the great events in human
history. For two thousand years the Jewish people was only
the object of history, in a state of political innocence which it
owed to its role as victim. That role is not enough for its voca
tion. But since 1948 this people has been surrounded by ene
mies and is still being called into question [this "being-in
question" defines, we recall, the subjectivity or ipseity of the
hostage: persecution, obsession, or obsidionality, responsibil
ity for all], yet engaged too in real events, in order to think
and to make and remake-a State which will have to incar
nate the prophetic moral code and the idea of its peace. That
this idea has already managed to be handed down and caugh�
in full flight, as it were, is the wonder of wonders. As we have
already said, Sadat's trip has opened up the unique path for
peace in the Near East, if this peace is to be possible at all. For
what is 'politically' weak about it is probably the expression
both of its audacity and, ultimately, of its strength. It is also,
perhaps, what it brings, for everyone everywhere, to the very
idea of peace: the suggestion that peace is a concept which
goes beyond purely political thoUght.91
A Word of Welcome
What is peace? What are we saying when we say

"peace"? What does it mean "to be at peace with"-to be
at peace with someone else, a group, a State, a nation, one
self as another? In each of these cases, one can be at peace
only with some other. So long as what is other as other will
not have been in some way "welcomed" in epiphany, in
the withdrawal or visitation of its face, it would make no
sense to speak of peace. With the same, one is never at
peace.
Even if this axiom appears impoverished and abstract, it
is not so easy to think through. What is the semantic ker
nel, if there is one and if it has a unity, of this little word
paix ["peace"] ? Is there such a semantic kernel? In other
words, is there a concept of peace? One that would be one,
indestructible in its identity? Or must we invent another
relation to this concept, as perhaps to any concept, to the
non-dialectical enclosure of its own transcendence, its
"beyond-in"?
Just as we should have asked what we mean when we
say "to welcome" or "to receive"-and all of Levinas's
thought is, wants to be, and presents itself as a teaching
(in the sense of magisterial height that he gives to this
word, and that he confers upon it in a magisterial way), a
teaching on the subject of what "to welcome" or "to re
ceive" should mean-so we should ask what the word
"peace" can and should mean, as opposed to war or not.
As opposed to war and thus to hostility or not, since this
opposition cannot simply be assumed. To war or to hostil
ities, to hostility itself, that is to say, to a declared hostility
that is also, it is often believed, the contrary of hospitality.
Now if war and declared hostility were the same thing,
and if they were the opposite of peace, then one would
also have to say that peace and the hospitality of welcom
ing also form a pair, an inseparable pair, a correlation in
86 A "WOrd of Welcome
which one of them, peace, is on a par with the other, hos

pitality, and vice versa.
We must p erhaps problematize, disturb, trouble, or sus
pect all these pairs of concepts, which are assumed to be
synonymous, co-implicated, or symmetrically opposable.
It is not certain that "war," "hostility," and "conflict" are
the same thing. (Kant, for example, distinguishes between
war and conflict.) It is also not certain that hospitality and
peace are synonyms. One can imagine a political peace
between two States where no hospitality would be offered
to the citizens of the other State, or where strict conditions
would be placed on any hospitality. In fact, this is what
most often happens. War a�d peace are also to? often
thought to form a symmetrical pair of opposed concepts.
But give to one or the other of these two concepts a value
or position of originarity, and the symmetry is broken.
If one thinks, like Kant, that everything in nature be
gins with war, then at least two consequences follow. First,
peace is no longer a natural phenomenon, one that is sym
metrical and simply opposable to war; it is a phenomenon
of another order, of a non-natural nature, of an institu
tional (and thus politico-juridical) nature. Second, peace
is not simply the cessation of hostilities, an abstention
from making war or an armistice; it must be instituted as
perpetual peace, as the promise of eternal peace. Eternity
is then neither a utopia, nor a hollow word, nor some ex
ternal or supplementary predicate to be attached to the
concept of peace. The concept implies, in itself, analyti
cally, in its own necessity, that peace is eternal. The
thought of eternity is indestructible in the very concept of
peace, and thus in the concept of hospitality, if this can be
thought. The Kantian argument is well known: if I make
peace with the thought in the back of my mind of re
opening hostilities, of returning to war, or of agreeing
A Word of Welcome
only to an armistice, if I even think that one day, more or

less in spite of mysel£ I should let myself be won over by
the hypothesis of another war, this would not be peace.
There may then, never be any peace, one might say, but if
there were, it would have to be eternal and, as an insti
tuted, juridico-political peace, not natural.
Some might conclude from this that there never is and
never will be such a peace. A purely political peace might
always not take place in conditions adequate to its con
cept. Henceforth, this eternal peace, purely political as it
is, is not political, or the political is never adequate to its
concept. Which, in spite of all the differences to which we
must be attentive, would bring Kant closer to Levinas
when, in "Politics After!," the latter takes note of this con
cept of the political, of its inadequation to itself or to its
infinite idea, and of the consequences that Kant is forced
to draw from it in his "Third Definitive Article for a Per
petual Peace": "The Law of World Citizenship Shall Be
Limited to Conditions of Universal Hospitality." This
generous article is in fact limited by a great number of
conditions:_ universal hospitality is here only juridical and
political; it grants only the right of temporary sojourn and
not the right of residence; it concerns only the citizens of
States; and, in spite of its institutional character, it is
founded on a natural right, the common possession of the
round and finite surface of the earth, across which hu
mans cannot spread ad infinitum. The realization of this
natural right, and thus of universal hospitality, is referred
to a cosmopolitical constitution that the human species
can only approach indefinitely.
But for all these reasons, which indefinitely suspend
and condition the immediate, infinite, and unconditional
welcoming of the other, Levinas always prefers, and I
would want to say this without any play on words, peace
now, and he prefers universality to cosmopolitanism . To

my knowledge, Levinas never uses the word "cosmopoli- .
tanism" or adopts it as his own. I can imagine at least two
reasons for this: first, because this sort of political thought
refers pure hospitality, and thus peace, to an indefinite
progress; second, because of the well-known ideological
connotations with which modern anti-Semitism saddled
the great tradition of a cosmopolitanism passed down
from Stoicism or Pauline Christianity to the Enlighten
ment and to Kant.
'Whereas for Kant the institution of an eternal peace, of
a cosmopolitical law, and of a universal hospitality, retains
the trace of a natural hostility, whether present or threat
ening, real or virtual, for Levinas the contrary would be
so: war itself retains the testimonial trace of a pacific wel
coming of the face. In the beginning of section 2 of Per
petual Peace, Kant declares war to be natural:
The state of peace among men living side by side is not the
natural state (status naturalis) [Naturzustand]: the natural
state is one ofwar [Zustand des Krieges] . This does not always
mean open hostilities [literally: even if there is no outbreak
of enmity, of hostility: wenngleich nicht immer ein Ausbruch
der Feindseligkeiten] , but at least an unceasii-tg threat [Bedro
hung] of war. 92 .
For Kant, and this must be taken seriously, a threat of

war, a simple pressure-whether symbolic, diplomatic, or
economic-is enough to interrupt the peace. Potential or
virtual hostility remains incompatible with peace. This
goes very far, and penetrates very deeply, rendering every
virtual allergy, whether unconscious or radically forbid
den, contradictory to peace. The first appearance of any
threat would be incompatible with peace, the immanence
and not just the imminence of a negativity in the experi-
A Word of Welcome
ence of peace. Only this allows Kant to conclude that

there is no natural peace, and that, as he says immediately
thereafter, the state of peace must thus be "instituted"
(founded, gestiftet).
But as soo� as peace is instituted, politically deliberated,
juridically constructed, does it not indefinitely and in
evitably retain within it a trace of the violent nature with
which it is supposed to break, the nature it is supposed to
interrupt, interdict, or repress? Kant does not say this, but
can it not be thought, either with or against him, that an
institutional peace is at once pure and impure? As an eter
nal promise, it must retain, according to a logic that I tried
elsewhere to formalize,93 the trace of a threat, of what
threatens it and of what threatens in it, thus contaminat
ing the promise by a threat, according to a collusion that
is deemed, particularly by the theoreticians of the promise
as speech act, inacceptable, inadmissible, and contrary to
the very essence of the promise. Kant continues:
A state of peace, therefore, must be instituted [es muss also

gestiftet werden] , for in order to be secured against hostility it
is not sufficient that hostilities simply be not committed;
and, unless this security is pledged to each by his neighbor (a
thing that can occur only in a civic state [in einem gesetz
lichen Zustande]), each may treat his neighbor, from whom
he demands this security, as an enemy.
If everything begins, -as nature and in nature, with a real

or virtual war, there is no longer a symmetrical opposition
between war and peace, that is, between war and perpetual
peace. Hospitality, which would retain the trace of a possi
ble war, can then only be conditional, juridical, political. A
Nation-State, indeed a community of Nation-States, can
only condition peace, just as it can only limit hospitality,
refuge, or asylum. And the first-indeed the only-con-
A "WOrd of Welcome
cern of Kant is to define limitations and conditions. We

know this only too well: never will a Nation-State as such,
regardless of its form of government, and even if it is de
mocratic, its majority on the right or the left, open itself up
to an unconditional hospitality or to a right of asylum ·
without restriction. It would never be "realistic" to expect
or demand this of a Nation-State as such. The Nation-State
will always want to "control the flow of immigration. "
Now, could i t not b e said, inversely, that for Levinas
everything begins with peace? Although this peace is nei
ther natural (since, and this is not fortuitous, there is no
concept of nature or reference to a state of nature in Lev
inas, it seems to me, and this is of the utmost importance:
before nature, before the originarity of the arche, there
is what works always to interrupt it, the pre-original
anachrony of an-archy), nor simply institutional orj?tridico
political, everything seems "to begin, " in a precisely an
archic and anachronic fashion, by the welcoming of the
face of the other in hospitality, which is also to say, by its
immediate and quasi-immanent interruption in the illeity
of the third.
But the rupture of this symmetry, which seems to be
the inverse of that described by Kant, has its own equivo
cal consequences. It suggests that war, hostility, even mur
der, still presuppose and thus always manifest this origi
nary welcoming that is openness to the face: before and
after Sinai. One can make war only against a face; one can
kill, or give oneself the prohibition not to kill, only where
the epiphany of the face has taken place, even if one re
jects, forgets, or denies it in an allergic reaction. We know
that, for Levinas, the prohibition against killing, the
"Thou shalt not kill, " in which, as he says, "The entire
Torah" is gathered,94 and which "the face of the other sig
nifies," is the very origin of ethics.
Whereas for Kant the institution of peace could not but

retain the trace of a warlike state of nature, in Levinas the
inverse is the case, since allergy, the rejection of the other,
even war, appear in a space marked by the epiphany of the
face, where "the subject is a host" and a "hostage," where
consciousness of . . . , or intentional subjectivity, as re
sponsible, traumatized, obsessed, and persecuted, first of
fers the hospitality that it is. When Levinas affirms that
the essence of language is goodness, or that "the essence of
language is friendship and hospitality," he clearly intends
to mark an interruption: an interruption of both symme
try and dialectic. He breaks with both Kant and Hegel,
with both a juridico-cosmopolitanism that, in spite of its
claims to the contrary, could never succeed in interrupting
an armed peace, peace as armistice, and with the laborious
process-the work-of the negative, "with a peace pro
cess" that would still organize war by other means when it
does not make of it a condition of consciousness, of "ob
jective morality" (Sittlichkeit) and of politics-the very
thing that the dialectic of Carl Schmitt, for example, still
credited to _Hege1.95 For Levinas, peace is not a process of
the negative, the result of a dialectical treaty between the
same and the other: "The other is not the negation of the
same, as Hegel would like to say. The fundamental fact of
the ontological scission into same and other is a non-aller
gic relation of the same with the other. "
These are the final pages of Totality and Infinity. They
declare peace, peace now, before and beyond any peace
process, even before any "peace now movement."96
Where might we find a rule or mediating schema be
tween this pre-originary hospitality or this peace without
process and, on the other side, politics, the politics of
modern States (whether existing or in the process of being
constituted), for example, since this is only an example,
the politics underway in the "peace process" between Is

rael and Palestine? All the rhetorics and all the strategies
that claim to refer to this today do so in the name of and
with a view to "politics" that are not only different but ap
parently antagonistic and incompatible.
The firial pages of Totality and Infinity return to the
propositions that, in the chapter entitled "The Dwelling,"
refer to language in terms of non-violence, peace, and
hospitality. Levinas there speaks of what "is produced in
language," namely, "the positive deployment of this pacific
[my emphasis] relation with the other, without any border
or negativity." Twice in a few lines, the word "hospitality"
is identified with recollection in the home, but with recol
lection [recueillement] as welcome [accueil] : "Recollection
in a home open to the Other-hospitality-is the con
crete and initial fact of human recollection and separa
tion; it coincides with the Desire for the Other absolutely
transcendent. "97
The at-home-with-oneself of the dwelling does not im
ply a closing off, but rather the place of Desire toward the
transcendence of the other. The separation marked here is
the condition of both the welcome and the hospitality of
fered to the other. There would be neither welcome nor
hospitality without this radical alterity, which itself pre
supposes separation. The social bond is a certain experi
ence of the unbinding without which no respiration, no
spiritual inspiration, would be possible. Recollection, in
deed being-together itself, presupposes infinite separation.
The at-home-with-oneself would thus no longer be a sort
of nature or rootedness but a response to a wandering, to
the phenomenon of wandering it brings to a halt.
This axiom also holds for the space of the nation. The
ground or the territory has nothing natural about it, noth
ing of a root, even if it is sacred, nothing of a possession
for the national occupant. The earth gives hospitality be

fore all else, a hospitality already offered to the initial oc
cupant, a temporary hospitality granted to the hote, even
if he remains the master of the place. He thus comes to be
received in "his" own home. Right there in the middle of
Totality and Infinity, the "home," the familial home, "the
dwelling" in which the figure of woman plays the essential
role of the absolute welcomer, turns out to be a chosen,
elected, or rather allotted home, a home that is entrusted,
assigned by the choice of an election, and so not at all a
natural place.
The chosen home [Levinas says, just after having spoken of

hospitality as the Desire for the Other absolutely transcen
dent] is the very opposite of a root. It indicates a disengage
ment, a wandering which has made it possible, which is not
a less with respect to installation, but the surplus of the rela
tionship with the Other, metaphysics.98
In the final pages of Totality and Infinity, we find the

same themes of hospitable peace and uprooted wander
ing. Bypassing the political in the usual sense of the term,
the same logic opens a wholly other space: before, beyond,
outside the State. But one must wonder why it now cen
ters this "situation," no longer on the femininity of wel
coming, but on paternal fecundity, on what Levinas calls,
and this would be another large question, yet another
marvel, the "marvel of the family." This marvel con
cretizes "the infinite time of fecundity"-a non-biological
fecundity, of course-"the instant of eroticism and the in
finity of paternity."99
Though they are placed under the sign of a declared
peace and hospitality ("Metaphysics, or the relation to the
other, is accomplished as service and as hospitality") , 1 00
the "Conclusions" of Totality and Infinity no longer relate
94 A W0rd of Welcome
this "hospitable welcome" to "the feminine being" ("the

hospitable welcome par excellence," "the welcoming one
par excellence," "welcoming in itself" of "The Dwelling")
but to paternal fecundity, which opens up "an infinite and
discontinuous time," lOl and which, as we recalled above,
has an essential, if not exclusive, relation with the son,
with each son insofar as he is a "unique son," an "only
son" [fils unique], a "chosen son. " Where the feminine be
ing seemed to be the figure of "the welcoming one par ex
cellence," the father now becomes the infinite host or the
host of the infinite.
It is a question of opposing to the State what is here in
scribed on only one side of sexual difference, under the
sole law of paternity, namely, the "infinite time of fecun
dity," and not the "egoist protestation of subjectivity."
With this insistent gesture, with this protestation against
subjective protestation, Levinas seems to want to distance
himself from two thinkers who are very close to him:
from both a certain Kierkegaard (whose interpretation of
the "sacrifice" of Isaac and of the paternal figure of Abra
ham he contests elsewhere) and a certain Rosenzweig. Be
fore both of them, he feigns to be tempted for a moment
by the Hegelian argument that would favor the universal
ity of the State. He feigns this, but only so as to let it be
heard without feigning that one must not close oneself up
in the subjective finitude of the ego-something from
which "fecundity," precisely, the infinite time of the fa
ther-son relation, would protect us:
Against this egoist protestation of the subjectivity, against

this protestation in the first person, the universalism of
Hegelian reality will perhaps prevail. . . . The I is conserved
then in goodness, without its resistance to system manifest
ing itself as the egoist cry of the subjectivity, still concerned
for happiness or salvation, as in Kierkegaard.102
A WOrd of Welcome 95
An apparent paradox: anarchy, true anarchy, must be pa

ternal-as the only effective protestation against the
"tyranny of the State." Pre-originary hospitality, anarchic
goodness, infinite fecundity, and paternity might still give
way to allergy. This happens almost all the time and it en
tails forgetting, denying, or repressing what comes before
the origin, according to the common experience of history.
This negativity of repression would always remain, accord
ing to Levinas, secondary-even if it were an originary re
pression, as is said in the psychoanalytical code of which
Levinas is wary. In its originary secondariness, it would
still attest, as if in spite of itself" to the very thing it forgets,
denies, or represses, so that inhospitality, allergy, war, etc.
would still come to bear witness to the fact that everything
begins with their contrary, that is, with hospitality.
Hence�orth, a hierarchizing dissymmetry remains (one
that is apparently the inverse of Kant's) . War or allergy, the
inhospitable rejection, is still derived from hospitality. Hos
tility manifests hospitality; it remains in spite of itself a
phenomenon of hospitality, with the frightful consequence
that war might always be interpreted as the continuation of
peace by other means, or at least as the non-interruption of
peace or hospitality. Hence this great messianic discourse
on eschatological peace and on a hospitable welcome that
nothing precedes, not even the origin, might be under
stood as anything but political irenism.
That war still bears witness to peace, that it remains a
phenomenon of peace, is not, as we know, one of the con
sequences drawn by Levinas, but the risk remains. In any
event, we are clearly told that allergy, the inhospitable for
getting of the transcendence of the Other, this forgetting
of language, in short, is still a testimony, an unconscious
testimony, if such a thing is possible: it attests to the very
thing it forgets, namely, transcendence, separation, and
A Word of Welcome
thus language and hospitality, as well as woman and the

father. That is what "remains [demeure]" "in its dwelling
[demeure] ."
But the separated being can close itself up i n its egoism, that
is, in the very accomplishment of its isolation. And this pos
sibility of forgetting the transcendence of the Other-of
banishing with impunity all hospitality (that is, all language)
from one's home, banishing the transcendental relation that
alone permits the I to shut itself up in itself-attests to the
absolute truth, the radicalism, of separation. Separation is
not only dialectically correlative with transcendence, as its
reverse; it is accomplished as a positive event. The relation
with infinity remains [demeure] as another possibility of the
being recollected in its dwelling [sa demeure] . The possibility
for the home to open to the Other is as essential to the
essence of the home as closed doors and windows. 103
If language or the transcendence of the Other are or

translate hospitable friendship itself, then the interpreta
tion of this translation distinguishes in a troubling fashion
(troubling because, as we began to see a moment ago, this
distinction constantly risks being effaced) the Levinasian
concept of "peace" from the Kantian one. This paradoxi
cal legacy of K�t seems to be evoked in a sort of wry al
lusion to the peace of cemeteries that Toward Perpetual
Peace also treats with irony. For Levinas, as for Kant, eter
nal peace must remain a peace of the living.
To define a pluralism of radical s �paration, a pluralism
in which the plurality is not that of a total community,
that of the cohesion or coherence of the whole, "the co
herence of the elements that constitute plurality," it is nec
essary to think plurality as peace:
The unity of plurality is peace, and not the coherence of the

elements that constitute plurality. Peace therefore cannot be
A UIOrd of Welcome 97
identified with the end of combats that cease for want of

combatants, by the defeat of some and the victory of the
others, that is, with cemeteries or future universal empires.
Peace must be my peace, in a relation that starts from an I
and goes to the other, in desire and goodness, where the I
both maintains itself and exists without egoism. 104
The Preface of Totality and Infinity already denounces

the "peace of empires"-about which there would still be
much to say today, well beyond the pax romana: "The
peace of empires issued from war rests on war."
This concept: of peace seems to move at once toward
and away from Kant, who is himself at once Christian
and a man of the Enlightenment, who thinks peace in a
purely political fashion and always on the basis of the
State, even if the notion of the political in this politics is
always inadequate to itself. The insistent critique of the
State in Totality and Infinity regularly calls into question
the "tyranny of the State" as well as the "anonymous uni
versality of the State."I05 The becoming political of hospi
tality, its becoming part of the State, is no doubt a re
sponse to_ an aspiration; it corresponds, moreover, to the
call of the third; but it "deforms the I and the other" and
tends to introduce tyrannical violence. That is why poli
tics must never be left "to itself" It would always judge "in
absentia," always judge only the dead or the absent, where
the face is not present, where there is no one to say "Here
I am." This might be the place for a future meditation on
what being "in absentia" might mean in relation to law
and to politics, beyond the striking though fleeting use
Levinas makes of this word or figure.
Metaphysics, or the relation to the other, is accomplished as

service and as hospitality. Insofar as the face of the Other re
lates us to the third, the metaphysical relation of the I to the
A Word of Welcome
Other moves into the form of the We, aspires to a State, in
stitutions, laws, which are the source of universality. But pol
itics left to itselfbears a tyranny within itself; it deforms the I
and the other who have given rise tq it, for it judges them
according to universal rules, and thus as in absentia [par
contumace] . 106
The political dissimulates because it brings to light. It

hides what it throws light on. Giving the face to be seen,
bringing or attracting it into the space of public phenom
enality, it thereby renders it invisible. Visibility renders in
visible its invisibility, that is, the withdrawal of its epiph
any. But exhibiting the invisibility of the face is not the
only way of dissimulating it. The violence of the political
mistreats the face yet again by effacing its unicity in a gen
erality. These two violences are in the end the same, and
Levinas associates them when he speaks of "attention to
the Other as unicity and face (which the visibleness of the
political leaves invisible) , which can be produced only in
the unicity of an 1." He then immediately adds, pointing
in the direction of a certain interpretation of Kierkegaard
or Rosenzweig, the clarification that we must cite and �itu
ate one more time, so as now to emphasize a certain "per
haps": "Subjectivity is thus rehabilitated in the work of
truth, and not as an egoism refusing the system which of
fends it. Against this egoist protestation of the subjectivity,
against this protestation in the first person, the universal
ism of Hegelian reality will perhaps prevail." 1 07
"Perhaps"; but then perhaps it is also more difficult for
the State to be denounced, or indeed delimited.
Clearly, there can be no peace worthy of its name in the
space of this "tyranny" or this "anonymous universality."
But as we have come to suspect, the topology of this pol
itics is rather convoluted. Levinas acknowledges that what
"identifies itself outside of the State" (peace, hospitality,
A W0rd of Welcome 99
paternity, infinite fecundity, etc.) has a framework in the

State, "identifies itself outside of the State, even if the
State reserves a framework for it."
There is thus a topological destiny for this structural
complication of the political. We spoke earlier of an en
clave of transcendence. The border between the ethical
and the political here loses for good the indivisible sim
plicity of a limit. No matter what Levinas might have said,
the determinability of this limit was never pure, and it
never will be. It would be possible to follow this inclusion
of excess, or this transcendence in immanence, through
subsequent texts such as "Beyond the State in the State" or
"The State of Caesar and the State of David." A hyper
bolic transgression brings about a disjunction in the im
manence to self. In each case, this disjunction has to do
with the pre-originary ex-propriety or ex-appropriation
that makes of the subject a guest [hate] and an hostage,
someone who is, before every invitation, elected, invited,
and visited in his home as in the home of the other, who
is in his own home in the home ofthe other, in a given at
home, an at home that is given or, rather, loaned, allotted,
advanced b efore every contract, in the "anachronism of a
debt preceding the loan."l o8
According to the logic of this advance, a logic that is at
once peaceful, gentle, and ineluctable, the welcoming one
is welcomed. He is first welcomed by the face of the other
whom he means to welcome. Although this peace is nei
ther political, nor related to the state, nor, in the language
of Kant, cosmo political, that does not prevent Levinas
from using language that resonates with Kant's. This oc
curs in the ironic allusion to the cemetery, to a peace that
must not be the peace of the dead. As is often the case,
Levinas is eager to remain on Kant's side. He speaks in
Kant's direction, even if he is not strictly speaking or to-
roo A Word of Welcome
tally Kantian-indeed far from it-and he does so at the

very moment he is opposing Kant.
In this sarcastic staging by Kant, I will emphasize some
thing that disappears like a detail to which one pays hardly
any attention. The allusion to the peace of cemeteries
refers to an innkeeper, a hosteler, the sign of an inn that
takes in and gives shelter. We are welcomed at the very
outset under the sign of a sign of hospitality, at the sign of
hospitality, by the witty remark of a hosteler, the ques
tionable words of a host or the bad humor of an innkeeper
(Gastwirt) . Already in the Foreword, on the threshold,
therefore, of Toward Perpetual Peace, we find ourselves re
ceived by a prefatory warning. Before this, there is the ti
tle, which does more than one thing: it situates and an
nounces a place, the perpetual peace that will be treated
which is also the refuge or the inn. In the process, it
promises, greets, dedicates: Zum Ewigen Frieden (To per
petual peace or for perpetual peace) . Kant's first words
thus put us on guard against the confusion between two
peaces, the refuge and the cemetery:
One may leave in suspense [Ob . . . mag dahin gestellt wer

den: the question of knowing whether . . . can be left in sus
pense, like a title or a sign] the question of whether this satir
ical inscription on a Dutch innkeeper's sign [aufdem Schilde
jenes holldndischen Gastwirts] upon which a burial ground
was painted had for its object mankind in general, or the
rulers of states in particular, who are insatiable of war, or
merely the philosophers [die Philosophen] who dream this
sweet dream.
Zum ewigen Frieden would thus be the ambiguous

promise of a perpetual or eternal peace, the equivocal or
hypocritical promise of a hospitality without restriction.
But Kant wants neither the cemetery with which the
rulers of States and the hawks of every epoch threaten us

nor the "sweet dream" of the pacifist philosopher, an ide
alistic and impotent utopia, an oneiric irenism. The law
and cosmo politics of hospitality that he prOPQses in re
sponse to this · terrible alternative is a set of rules and con
tracts, an interstate conditionality that limits, against the
backdrop of natural law reinterpreted within a Christian
horizon, the very hospitality it guarantees. The right to
refuge is very strictly delimited by such rules. There is not
enough time, and this is not the place, to analyze this text
more closely. Our task here is simply-between Kant and
Levinas-to sharpen a difference that matters today more
than ever with regard to this right of refuge and all the
most urgent matters of our time, everywhere that-in Is
rael, in Rwanda, in Europe, in America, in Asia, and in all
the Churches of St. Bernard in the world-millions of
"undocumented immigrants" [sans papiers] , of "homeless"
[sans domicile fixe] , call out for another international law,
another border politics, another humanitarian politics, in
deed a humanitarian commitment that effectively operates
beyond the interests of Nation-States.
'II
I
I
Let us return for a moment to Jerusalem.
"We are approaching the gates of Jerusalem."
l
What is an approach? Will such an appro ch ever end?
I
Let us go to Jerusalem, one year after this keparation of

separation, one year after the death of Emmahuel Levinas.
i
The A-dieu of separation leaves us still this grace, this to
be thankful for, thanks to him, to be able to understand,
l
read, welcome and receive him according to the trace.
I02 A Word of Welcome
. We might meditate upon-and thus affirm-the pos

sibility of such a chance.
Once sealed in this writing, once and for all, the Saying
a-Dieu crosses in one word, but to infinity, greeting and
the promise, welcome [bienvenue] and separation: the wel
come at the heart of separation, of holy separation. At the
moment of death, but also in the encounter with the
other at this very moment, in the gesture of welcoming
and always to infinity: Adieu.
To infinity, surely, because the a-Dieu says first of all
"the idea of infinity."
In this sense, it is also a kind of bidding adieu to Des
cartes. As was suggested earlier, Descartes would probably
have hesitated to go along with Levinas in this sort of
turning aside or redirecting of the tradition concerning the
idea of infinity in me. It is important then to note the ex
act nature of this redirection, and to describe the move
ment by which Levinas separates himself from Descartes.
It is in order to Say a-Dieu, to-God, the to, the a, of a
Dieu, the turn and the turning aside of this to, and to do
so at the very moment of explaining what "did not inter
est Descartes, for whom the mathematical clarity and dis
tinctness of ideas was enough," since the whole paradox
of the idea of infinity was "subordinated in the Cartesian
system to the search for knowledge." Acknowledging the
analogy between his critique and the one leveled by Hus
ser! against Descartes, though confirming the phenome
nological interruption of phenomenology that we spoke of
earlier, Levinas calls the a-Dieu an "extraordinary structure
of the idea of infinity" that coincides neither with the "self
identification of identity" nor with "self-consciousness."
That is because the a, the "to"-and this is its turn-itself
turns toward infinity. Even before itself turning in this
way, it is turned: by Infinity toward infinity. Even though
A Word of Welcome 10 3
it cannot, by definition, measure up to this measureless

ness or excess-for Levinas notes in passing the inadequa
tion of a in the French language, and he does so at the very
moment when, in this very language, he invents this re
course for it. 109 The preposition a is preposed a l'infini, to
the infinite that is preposed in it. The a, the to, is not only
open to infinity, uniquely open, that is to Say to God [c'est
a Dire a Dieu], said otherwise; it turns in its direction and
addresses itsel£ first so as to respond to it, first so as to be re
sponsible for it, it addresses its ad to [a] the infinite that
calls it and addresses itself to it; it opens the reference-to
[a] , the relation-to [a] , to the infinity of its bearing. It has,
from the beginning, before everything, before giving or
giving pardon to God, before belonging to God, before
anything whatsoever, before being itself, before any pre
sent, destined [voue] it to the excess of a desire-the desire
called A-Dieu. God resides in this, God who desires to re
side there: the desire says A-Dieu.
It is not in the finality of an intentional aim that I think in
finity. My most profound thought, the one that bears all
thought, my thought of infinity older than the thought of the
finite, is the very diachrony of time, non-coincidence, divest
ment itself: a way of "being destined" before any act of con
sciousness . . . A way of being destined or devoted that is de
votion itselE A Dieu, which is precisely not intentionality in its
noetic-noematic form. . . . The a-Dieu or the idea of Infinity
is not a species of some genre like intentionality or aspiration.
The dynamism of desire refers on the contrary to the a-Dieu,
a thought that is more profound and older than the cogito.1 10
Why name desire here? Why say in what it resides or

desires to reside? And why associate it with the name of
Jerusalem, with a certain desire of Jerusalem? With desir
ing as the desire to reside there?
We do so at the moment of concluding a discourse on
10 4 A Word of Welcome
the ethics and politics of hospitality. Before attempting to

respond to the above questions, I would recall this indica
tion: Levinas often, at the moment of saying in what the
a-Dieu resides, evokes in God the love of the stranger.
God would be above all, it is said, the one "who loves the
stranger. " l l l Excessively so, for the excess is also, like the
non-reciprocity that is decided in death (which is why the
salutation is an adieu), like the interruption of symmetry
or of commensurability, the trait or stroke, the uniting
stroke, the hyphen [trait d'union] that separates the adieu,
the hyphen of the a-Dieu. A-Dieu beyond being, where
God not only does not have to exist but where he does not
have to give to me or give me pardon. What would faith
or devotion be when directed toward a God who would
not be able to abandon me? Of whom I would be ab
solutely certain, assured of his concern? A God who could
not but give to me or give of himself to me? Who could
not not choose me? Would Levinas have endorsed these
last propositions, namely, that the a-Dieu, like salutation
or prayer, must be addressed to a God who not only
might not exist (who might no longer or not yet exist) but
who might abandon me and not turn toward me through
any covenant or election?
Desire, love of the stranger, excess: that is what I
wanted, under the title or in the name of the Adieu, to put
as an exergue to this conclusion-approaching Jerusalem.
"God who loves the stranger," rather than shows him
self-is this not, beyond being and the phenomenon, be
yond being and nothingness, a God who, although he lit
erally is not, not "contaminated by being," would destine
the a-Dieu, the salutation and the holy separation to de
sire as "love of the stranger"? Before and beyond the "exis
tence" of God, outside of his probable improbability, right
up to the most vigilant if not the most desperate, the most
"sober," of atheisms (Levinas likes this word "sober [dt

grist] "), the Saying a-Dieu would signify hospitality. This
is not some abstraction that one would call, as I have just
hastily done, "love of the stranger," but (God) "who loves
the stranger."
Who loves the stranger. Who loves the stranger? Whom
else is there to love?
Let us return for a moment to Jerusalem.

Let us go to Jerusalem.
To Jerusalem; perhaps we are there.
Is the step [pas] of such a return possible? The possibil
ity is measured here against the effectivity of a promise.
Certainly. A promise remains, its possibility remains ef
fective, but ethics demands that this effectivity be effectu
ated, without which the promise betrays the promise by
renouncing what it promises. Is the realization of an effec
tive possibility of ethics already politics? Which politics?
We are there, in the earthly Jerusalem, between war and
peace, in this war that is called from every side without
anyone believing it, without anyone making us believe it,
the "peace process. " We are in a promise that is at once
threatened and threatening, in the present without pre
sent, in the imminence of a promised Jerusalem.
"What is promised in Jerusalem is a humanity of the
Torah," Emmanuel Levinas once said.
What does this mean? Who are the hotes and the hos
tages of Jerusalem? How is one to understand the "hu
manity of the Torah" when, in order to determine the
promise that bears this place name, Jerusalem, Levinas in
sists on the earth, on the "earthly Jerusalem" and not the
heavenly one, a Jerusalem "not outside all places, in pious
thoughts." 1 1 2
Why gesture in the direction of a welcome that would

be more than a welcome, older or more to come than a
welcome? An eschatological hospitality that would be
more than hospitality, as it is understood in law and in
politics, a hospitality of the Torah that would be, in a
word, more than a refuge? Why should the ethics of hos
pitality be something more and something other than a
law or politics of refuge?
These questions are not posed.
Or at least they are never posed in the repose of a place.
They put one to the test of an interrogation that endures
them without repose.
So as to evoke this endurance (what else can be done
here in just a few minutes?) , let us simply mark a few
stages in the extraordinary itinerary of reading and inter
pretation that we should follow word by word, step by
step, in Beyond the Verse, especially in chapter 3 , entitled
"Cities of Refuge. " 1 1 3
It cons.ists of about twenty pages. The subtle movement
of this exegesis is at once varied, patient, inventive, cau
tious, and risky, as well as open, its breath held-sus
pended-to such a degree that I hesitate to take the risk
of stopping it or even momentarily breaking it up accord
ing to the crude pedagogy of a series of stages or argu
ments. I will make the attempt nonetheless, but only so as
to invite you, as an opening, to return to what is an�
nounced in this place.
Perhaps it will suffice to recall, by means of an ellipsis,
the feminine figure of Jerusalem. It would reawaken what
was heard earlier, and questioned, concerning hospitality
and the feminine being who would be "hospitable wel
come par excellence," "the welcoming one par excellence,"
"welcoming in itself."
To desire, to reside. In singing the election of Zion by
the desire of Yahweh-yes, the desire of Yahweh-a psalm

(13 2: 13 ) names Jerusalem as the chosen lover or spouse for
a dwelling. God says that he desires to r�side in Zion.
"There I will reside, for I desired it," says one translation.
Desiring to reside, as if it were a single word, a single and
same movement, for there is no desire without this elec
tive claim, without this exclusive request for a singular
residence.
Yes, Yahweh has chosen Zion; he has desired it for his

habitation.
This is my resting place forever; here I will reside, for I
have desired it.1 14
Does Levinas say anything else but this when, following

the figure of another psalm (122: 3 ) , he describes a Jeru
salem "built �s a city that is bound firmly together,"
bound between the heavenly height of God and the
earthy realm below?
Running through two interpretations of this figure, the
Zionist and the universalist, Levinas prefers a third mean
ing, according to which there is no religious salvation (the
vertical dim-ension) without justice in the earthly city and
the human dwelling (the horizontal dimension) . It is to
ward this "third meaning" that a meditation begins to un
fold on the Jerusalem of the Torah "in the context of this
humanist urbanism of the cities of refuge,"1 15 this "hu
manism or humanitarianism of the cities of refuge. " 1 16
An increasing number of allusions follow to what "top
ical significance [this] might have for US," 1 17 to the "spirit
of revolt or even of delinquency in our suburbs, the result
of the social imbalance in which we are placed. " "Does
not all this make our cities," Levinas asks, "cities of refuge
or cites of exiles?" 1 18
This reading of an excerpt from Tractate Makkoth, loa,
focuses more specifically on the notion of cities of refuge,

which, according to Numbers 35 , God commands Moses
to open up to anyone who has killed unintentionally and
is being pursued by an avenger of blood or "ransomer of
blood" (as Chouraqui translates it) . One is to offer shelter
to the involuntary murderer being pursued by the
"avenger of blood" so as to secure his safety. One is to stop
at the city gates an avenger who feels justified in seeking
his own justice when the tribunal remains powerless to
judge someone who is guilty "inadvertently," someone
who has killed without the intention of causing death.
Levinas's first concern is to note that this divine injunc
tion commands the creation of a right-in truth, a
counter-right-that sanctions the protection of the invol
untary murderer against the "marginal right" of the
avenger of blood. The jurisdiction of this counter-right,
which is praised by Levinas, is rather refined, because by
limiting the time of asylum offered to the murderer it al
lows asylum to be turned into exile-and hospitality into
punishment. For the objective or involuntary murder does
not have to be totally excused. Levinas insists on this d�u
ble finality. Indeed, it is there to remind us that there is
no real discontinuity between voluntary and involuntary
murder. Sometimes invisible, always to be deciphered,
this continuity forces us to infinitize our responsibility: we
are also responsible for our lack of attention and for our
carelessness, for what we do neither intentionally nor
freely, indeed, for what we do unconsciously-since this
is never without significance. Further on, there appears a
more radical formulation: "there would be only one race
of murderers, whether the murder is committed involun
tarily or intentionally. " 1 19
But this is only the first stage. In the wake of another
verse, Levinas asks why it is prescribed that a master of the
Torah follow his disciple when the disciple must go into

exile in a city of refuge. Are we to conclude from this that
the Torah itself needs to be protected and offered asylum
through exile in a city of refuge? "Is the Torah not a city of
refuge?," Levinas then asks.
Is this not known by the following "questionable" herme

neutic [a bit later he will call it "specious"] :
"But that cannot be correct, seeing that Rabbi Johanan
said: Whence can it be shown (Scripturally) that the study of
the T�rah affords asylum? From the verse: 'Bezer in the
wilderness' (Deuteronomy 4: 43) [that Moses chose] , which
is followed by: 'This is the law [Torah] which Moses set be
fore the children of Israel'(Deuteronomy 4: 44) ."120
After having given some credit to this "specious" inter

pretation, after having glossed and discussed it, Levinas
takes a further step. This step would carry us beyond "the
noble lesson of the city of refuge, its indulgence and its
forgiveness." In spite of the juridical refinement it intro
duces, indeed because of this very casuistry, the "noble les
son" remains equivocal with regard to the Torah. The
Torah demands more; it demands more from Jerusalem,
requires more in Jerusalem.
The Torah is justice, a complete justice which goes beyond

the ambiguous situations of the cities of refuge. A complete
justice because, in its expressions and contents, it is a call for
absolute vigilance. The great awakening from which all over
sight, even that of involuntary murder, is excluded. Jerusalem
will be defined by this Torah, a city consequently of extreme
consciousness. As if the consciousness of our habitual life
were still asleep, as if we had not yet got a foothold in reality.
We are approaching the gates [portes] of Jerusalem. 121
A complete justice, Torah-of-Jerusalem, but a justice

whose extreme vigilance requires that it become effective,
no A W0rd of Welcome
that it make itself into law and politics. Once again, be
yond the State in the State, beyond law in the law, re
sponsibility held hostage to the here-now, the law of jus':'
tice that transcends the political and the juridical, in the
philosophical sense of these terms, must bend to itself, to
the point of exceeding and obsessing it, everything that
the face exceeds, in the face to face or in the interruption
of the third that marks the demand for justice as law.
It is right endlessly to insist on this: even if the experi
ence of the third, the origin of justice and of the question
as a putting into question, is defined as the interruption of
the face to face, it is not an intrusion that comes second:

The experience of the third is ineluctable from the very
first moment, and ineluctable in the face; even if it- inter
rupts the face to face, it also belong to it; as self-interrup
tion it belongs to the face and can be produced only
through it: "The revelation of the third, ineluctable in the
face, is produced only through the face. "122
It is as if the unicity of the face were, in its absolute and
irrecusable singularity, plural a priori. As we have insisted,
Levinas already takes this into account, so to speak, in To
tality and Infinity, 1 23 well before the "logic" of substitu
tion, already ske�ched out in 1961,124 gets developed in
Otherwise than Being. The most general possibility of sub
stitution, a simultaneous condition, a paradoxical reci
procity (the condition of irreciprocity) of the unique and
of its replacement, a place that is at once untenable and
assigned, the placement of the singular as replaceable, the
irrecusable place of the neighbor and of the third-is not
all this the first affection of the subject in its ipseity? Thus
understood, substitution announces the destiny of subjec
tivity, the subjection of the subject, as host or hostage:
"The subject is a host" (Totality and Infinity); "the subject
is hostage" (Otherwise than Being). As host or hostage, as
A Word of Welcome . III
other, as pure alterity, a subjectivity analyzed in this way

must be stripped of every ontological predicate, a bit like
the pure I that Pascal said is stripped of every quality that
could be attributed to it, of every property that, as pure I,
as properly pure, it would have to transcend or exceed.
And the other is not reducible to its actual predicates, to
what one might define or thematize about it, anymore
than the I is. It is naked, bared of every property, and this
nudity is also its infinitely exposed vulnerability: its skin.
This absence of determinable properties, of concrete pred
icates, of empirical visibility, is no doubt what gives to the
face of the other a spectral aura, especially if the subjectiv
ity of the hate also lets itself be announced as the visitation
of a face, of a visage. Host or guest [in English], Gastgeber
or Gast, the hate would be not only a hostage. It would
have, according to a profound necessity, at least the face or
figure of a spirit or phantom (Geist, ghost). When someone
once expressed concern to Levinas about the "phan
tomatic character" of his philosophy, especially when it
treats the "face of the other," Levinas did not directly ob
j ect. Resorting to what I have j ust called the "Pascalian"
argument (" it is necessary that the other be welcomed in
dependently of his qualities") , he clearly specified "wel
comed," especially in an "immediate," urgent way, with
out waiting, as if "real" qualities, attributes, or properties
(everything that makes a living person into something
other than a phantom) slowed down, mediatized, or com
promised the purity of this welcome. It is necessary to
welcome the other in his alterity, without waiting, and
thus not to pause to recognize his real predicates. It is thus
necessary, beyond all perception, to receive the other while
running the risk, a risk that is always troubling, strangely
troubling, like the stranger (unheimlich), of a hospitality
offered to the guest as ghost or Geist or Gast. There would
II2 A Word of Welcome
be no hospitality without the chance of spectrality. But

spectrality is not nothing, it exceeds, and thus decon
structs, all ontological oppositions, being and nothing
ness, life and death-and it also gives. It can give [don
ner] , give order(s) [ordonner] and give pardon [pardon
ner], and it can also not do so, like God beyond essence.
God without being, God uncontaminated by being-is
this not the most rigorous definition of the Face of the
Wholly Other? But is this not then an apprehension that
is as spectral as it is spiritual?
Is it insignificant that the city of refuge is first of all
·
more than a promise? It is an order given in a situation
where death was dealt or given without the intention of
giving it. But it is also the order to save from death a mur
derer haunted by the spectral return of the victim, by the
revenge of the phantom, by avengers bent on dealing
death in their turn. Whence its extreme ambiguity: shel.:. ·
ter must be given to one who is guilty of an involuntary
act, immunity, at least a temporary immunity, must be
granted to a murderer.
Though it exceeds the political ambiguity or juridical
equivocation to which the "noble lesson" of the cities of
refuge still bears witness, the Torah, the Torah in Jeru
salem, the Torah-1erusalem, must still inscribe the prom
ise in the earthly Jerusalem. And henceforth command
the comparison of incomparables (the definition of jus
tice, of the concession made, out of duty, to synchrony,
co-presence, the system, and, finally, the State) . It must
enjoin a negotiation with the non-negotiable so as to find
the "better" or the least bad.
Nothing counts more, nothing weighs more heavily,
than the quotation marks around the word "better" [meil
leur] here, the best [meilleur] word. Political civilization,
says Levinas, is "better" than barbarism, but it is only "bet-
A Word of Welcome II3
ter," that is, less bad. It is not good, it is only a stopgap,

but one that it is necessary to seek, that it is necessary not
to stop seeking. For the conclusion of this text once again
cautions us against a Zionism that would be simply a pol
itics, just "one more nationalism or particularism":
It is precisely in contrast to the cities of refuge that this claim

of the Torah through which Jerusalem is defined can be un
derstood. The city of refuge is the city of a civilization or of
a humanity which protects subjective innocence and forgives
objective guilt and all the denials that acts inflict on inten
tions. A political civilization, 'better' than that of passions
and so-called free desires, which, abandoned to the hazards
of their eruptions, end up in a world where, according to an
expression from the Pirqe Aboth, "men are ready to swallow
each other alive." A civilization of the law, admittedly, but a
political civilization whose justice is hypocritical and where,
with an undeniable right, the avenger of blood prowls.
What is promised in Jerusalem, on the other hand, is a
humanity of the Torah. It will have been able to surmount
the deep contradictions of the cities of refuge: a new hu
manity that is better than a Temple. Our text, which began
with the cities of refuge, reminds us or teaches us that the
longing for Zion, that Zionism, is not one more nationalism
or particularism; nor is it a simple search for a place of
refuge. It is the hope of a science of society, and of a society,
which are wholly human. And this hope is to be found in
Jerusalem, in the earthly Jerusalem, and not outside all
places, in pious thoughts. 125
Can we not hear this promise?

We can also receive and listen to it. We can even feel
ourselves engaged by it without, however, remaining in
sensitive to the silence it bears at the heart of the call. This
silence can also be the figure of a hiatus, that is, a mouth
opened to speak and to eat, but a mouth that is still silent.
II4 A "WOrd of Welcome
As for me, I believe I hear such a silence in this conclu

sion that speaks of a "hope" beyond "refuge. " For nothing
is determined here, I would even say determinable, con
cerning the "better" politics, the "better" law, be this the
law of war or the law of nations [Ie droit des gens] , that, in
a world where the law of modern Nation-States reigns, in
a "hypocritical" "political civilization," and in the earthly
Jerusalem of today and tomorrow, would respond "best"
or least poorly to this promise.
To put this in the terms of a classical philosophical dis:"
course, silence is kept concerning the rules or schemas
·
(there would be none for pure practical reason, according
to Kant) that would procure for us "better" or less bad
mediations: between ethics or the holiness of messianic
hospitality on the one hand and the "peace process," the
process of political peace, on the other.
This silence comes to us from the abyss.

It perhaps resembles, it perhaps echoes-just per
haps-the silence from the depths of which Elijah heard
himself called, him alone ("How is it, Elijah, that you're
here; what are you doing here?"), from the depths of a
voice that was scarcely a voice, an almost inaudible voice,
a voice barely to be distinguished from a light breeze, a
voice as subtle as silence, "a sound of sheer silence," but a
voice that Elijah thought he could make out after having
sought in vain the pr�sence of God on the mountain, in
the wind, then in the earthquake, and then in the fire, a
voice that asks ("What are you doing here?") and that or
ders, "GO."126
More intractable than the wind, the earthquake, and
the fire, the silence of this voice is not just any abyss, and
it is not necessarily a bad abyss. One might even try to
A Word of welcome II5
discern its edges. I t does not whisper silence over the ne
cessity of a relation between ethics and politics, ethics and
justice or law. This relation is necessary, it must exist, it is
necessary to deduce a politics and a law from ethics. This
deduction is necessary in order to determine the "better"
or the "less bad," with all the requisite quotation marks:
democracy is "better" than tyranny. Even in its "hypocrit
ical" nature, "political civilization" remains "better" than
barbarism.
What consequences should be drawn from this? Would
Levinas have subscribed to those we risked formulating
earlier, or those we are advancing now? Whatever our de
sire for fidelity, we cannot respond to this question, we
must not claim to do so, or claim responsibility for what
Levinas himself would have responded . . Concerning, for
example, what was said earlier about the perjury of justice
and everything that then follows, where I interpret this si
lence between ethics and politics, ethics and law.
How is one to hear this silence? Who can hear it?
It seems to dictate this to me: the formal injunction of

-
the deduction remains irrecusable, and it does not wait
any more than the third and justice do. Ethics enjoins a
politics and a law: this dependence and the direction of
this conditional derivation are as irreversible as they are
unconditional. But the political or juridical content that is
thus assigned remains undetermined, still to be deter
mined beyond knowledge, beyond all presentation, all
concepts, all possible intuition, in a singular way; in the
speech and the responsibility taken by each person, in
each situation, and on the basis of an analysis that is each
time unique-unique and infinite, unique but a priori ex
posed to substitution, 127 unique and yet general, inter
minable in spite of the urgency of the decision. For the
n6 A Word of Welcome
analysis of a context and of political motivations can have

no end as soon as it includes in its calculations a limitless .
past and future. As always, the decision remains heteroge
neous to the calculations, knowledge, science, and con
sciousness that nonetheless condition it. The silence of
which we are speaking, the one toward which we are above
all attentive, is the elementary and decisive between-time,
the meantime, the instantaneous meantime of qecision;
which unsettles time and puts it off its hinges ("out of
joint") in anachrony and in contretemps: that is, when the .
law of the law exposes itself, ofitself, in the non-law, by be
coming at once host and hostage, the host and hostage of
the other, when the law of the unique must give itself over .
to substitution and to the law of generality-without
which one would obey an ethics without law-when the
"Thou shall not kill," wherein both the Torah and the l�w
of messianic peace are gathered, still allows any State (the
one of Caesar or the one of David, for example) to feel
justified in raising an army, in making war or keeping law
and order, in controlling its borders-in killing. Let's not
insist too much here on the obvious, but let's not forget it
too quickly, either.
The silence out of which we speak is surely not foreign

to the non-response by which Levinas often defines the
dead, or death, a death that does not signify nothingness.
This non-response, this interruption of the response, does
not await death without speech; it spaces and makes dis
continuous all speech. The hiatus, the silence of this non
response concerning the schemas between the ethical and
the political, remains. It is a fact that it remains, and this
fact is not some empirical contingency; it is a Faktum.
But it must also remain between the messianic promise
A Word of Welcome II7
and the determination of a rule, norm, or political law. It

marks a heterogeneity, a discontinuity between two or
ders, even if this be on the inside of the earthly Jerusalem.
It marks the between-time or meantime of an indecision,
the only basis on which responsibility and the decision
are to be taken and determined. It is on the basis of this
non-response that speech or words [fa parole] may be
taken, and first of all given, that anyone might claim to
"take up speech," or take the floor in politics, out of fi
delity to a speech or word that is given, to this giving of
one's word, to the "word of honor" that we mentioned in
the beginning.
This silence is thus also that of a speech or word that is
given.
It gives speech, gives over speech; it is the gift of speech.
This non-response conditions my responsibility, there
where I alone must respond. Without silence, without the
hiatus, which is not the absence of rules but the necessity
of a leap at the moment of ethical, political, or juridical
decision, we could simply unfold knowledge into a pro
gram or co �rse of action. Nothing could make us more ir
responsible; nothing could be more totalitarian.
This discontinuity, moreover, allows us to subscribe to
everything Levinas says about peace or messianic hospital
ity, about the beyond of the political in the political, with
out necessarily sharing all the "opinions" in his discourse
having to do with an intrapolitical analysis of real situa
tions or of what is actually going on today with the earthly
Jerusalem, or indeed with a Zionism that would no longer
be just one more nationalism (for we now know better
than ever that all nationalisms like to think of themselves
as universal in an exemplary fashion, that each claims this
exemplarity and likes to think of itself as more than just
one more nationalism) . Even if, in fact, it seems difficult
n8 A Word of Welcome
to maintain a faith in election, and especially in the elec

tion of an eternal people, safe from all "nationalist" (in the
modern sense of this word) temptation, even if it seems
difficult to dissociate �hem in the actual political situation
of any Nation-State (and not just Israel), it is necessary to
acknowledge that Levinas always wanted to protect the
thematic of election (which is so central, so strong, and so
determining in his work) from every nationalist seduction.
One could cite any number of texts to prove this. Let it
suffice to recall, among the extraordinary political essays
written by Levinas between 19 35 and 19 3 9, 1 28 those that al
ways placed the Covenant above or beyond a "Jewish na
tionalism." 1 29
The same hiatus frees space; it can give its place to a
subtle, difficult, but necessary analytical dissociation in
the structure of arguments and the placement of state
ments. For example, in the discourse of Levinas. Dare I
say that I never forgo, and, I believe, in the admiring fi
delity and respect that l owe Emmanuel Levinas, must
never forgo, the right to this analysis, indeed, to the dis
cussion of some proposition or other in a text that cannot
be homogeneous because it knows how to interrupt itself?
For this same text gives to be thought, let us not forget,
the contradiction internal to Saying, what we earlier called
ContraDiction, an intimate caesura but also the inspira
tion and elementary respiration of Saying.
Isn't this discussion necessary precisely there where it is
a question of responsibility before the other, in the face to
face or in the attention to the third, in the very place
where justice is non-dialectizable contra-diction?
The same duty to analyze would lead me to dissociate,
with all the consequences that might follow, a structural
messianicity, an irrecusable and threatening promise, an
eschatology without teleology, from every determinate
A Word of V(lelcome II 9
messianism: a messianicity before or without any mes

sianism incorporated by some revelation in a determined
place that goes by the name of Sinai or Mount Horeb.
But is it not Levinas himself who will have made us
dream, in more than one sense of this word, of a revelation
of the Torah before Sinai? Or, more precisely, of a recogni
tion [reconnaissance] of the Torah before this revelation?
As for Sinai, the proper name Sinai, does it carry a
metonymy? Or an allegory?130 The nominal body of a
barely decipherable interpretation that would come to re
call to us, without forcing our certitude, what will have
come before Sinai, at once the face, the withdrawal of the
face, and what, in the name of the Third, that is to say, in
the name of justice, contradicts the Saying in the Saying?
Sinai: ContraDiction itself
What I would have wanted to suggest, in short, has
come to tremble here, and perhaps to communicate in
trembling, a concern, a fear and trembling before what
"Sinai," the proper name "Sinai," means, before what is
called and calls us in this way, before what responds to
this name, is responsible for this name, beginning from
this name. -
The proper name "Sinai" is thus just as enigmatic as
the name "face. " In the singular and the plural, retaining
the memory of its Hebraic synonym, what is here called
"face" also starts to resemble some untranslatable proper
name. But this would be so only by virtue of an event of
translation.
Of an other translation, an other thought of translation.
Without anything just before, beginning from what is be
fore the just before. Without original, beginning from
what is pre-originary. For is not visage ["face"] , or visages
["faces"]-which should be written at once in the singular
and the plural, according to the unique, according to the
face to face and according to the more-than-two of the

third-also more than a very old name, a singular plural
reinvented in the French language, a poem giving accord
in turn to another French language, giving it to us by
composing in it a new accord, a language that is still un
heard of for the other man, for man as other or stranger,
for the other to man, the other ofman or the other than
man?
Yes, such nomination would have been accorded to the
French language. It was translated there, having visited
this language, and now it is its hostage, like a proper name
that is untranslatable outside the French language.
In this story, who was the host and who the guest? Who
will be?
The word a-Dieu belongs to the same accord. Before
the name or noun, before the verb, from the depths of the
call or of the silent salutation, it comes to nomination to
call the name by name. Without a name or noun, without
a verb, so close to silence. A-Dieu is accorded to the face.
, And "we meet death in the face of the Other. " 131
We recalled earlier the infinite meaning of the a-Dieu,

the idea of infinity that exceeds the thought of it, as well
as the cogito, noetic-noematic intentionality, knowledge,
objectivity, finality, etc. But the idiom would be neutral
ized were one simply to translate a-Dieu by "the idea of
infinity in the finite," thus reducing its meaning to this
idea, to this excess of meaning. One could then use this
as a pretext for forgetting death. And yet all of Levinas's
thought, from the beginning to the end, was a meditation
on death, a meditation that diverted, disconcerted, and
set beside itself everything in philosophy, from Plato to
Hegel to Heidegger, that was also, and first of all, con
cerned with death, epimeleia thanatou, Sein zum Tode.
When Levinas reinvents the thought of the a-Dieu, he of

course thinks everything we j ust recalled under this
name, but he does so without distancing himself from
what he had to teach about death, against or apart from
the philosophical tradition. This is particularly evident in
his courses on Death and Time, and especially in an arti
cle of 198 3 , "Non-Intentional Consciousness." The a-Dieu
there does indeed bear witness to the surplus of an infin
ity of meaning, to the (no) more-meaning to infinity, but
it does so, if I may put it this way, at the hour of death. At
the hour of a death that it is no longer necessary to ap
proach by means of the alternative between being and
nothingness. At the hour of this death, the salutation and
the call say a-Dieu. Levinas had just recalled the "extreme
uprightness of the face," but also the "uprightness of an
exposure to death, without defense" and "a request to
me addressed from the depths of an absolute solitude."
Through this request would come to me, but as an assig
nation, "what is called the word of God." It is given to be
heard in the a-Dieu.
The call ef God does not establish between me and the One
who has spoken to me a relation; it does not establish some
thing that, on any account, would be a conjunction-a co
existence, a synchrony, even if ideal-between terms. Infin
ity would have no meaning for a thought that goes to the
limit, and the a-Dieu is not a finality. It is perhaps this irre
ducibility of the a-Dieu or of the fear of God to eschatology,
this irreducibility that interrupts within the human the con
sciousness that was on its way toward being in its ontological
perseverance or toward death which it takes as the ultimate
thought, that is signified, beyond being, by the word "glory."
The alternative between being and nothingness is not ulti
mate. The a-Dieu is not a process of Being: in the call, I am
referred back to the other human being through whom this
call signifies, to the neighbor for whom I must fear. 132
On the same score, Levinas sometimes made use of the

word a-Dieu otherwise, in another register. He wanted to
say the same thing, no doubt, but from a less magisterial
height. In a sort of smiling murmur, he began at the same
time, in the course of the same decade, to say adieu to life.
Like someone who feels and knows that he is aging, and
that time is adieu, he said what a-Dieu comes to mean at
a certain age, and how he was using this word a-Dieu,
everything that he put into it Cas I express myself now"),
and which we have just recalled-for example, vulnerabil
ity: "I do not contest that we are in fact always in this
world, but it is a world wherein we are altered. Vulnera
bility is being able to say adieu to this world. One says
adieu to it in aging. Time endures by way of this adieu'
and by way of the a-Dieu." 133
Once again the a-Dieu as time or, more precisely, as the
future "according to the way that is proper to me and that
consists in treating time on the basis of the other": "It
[time] is, according to its meaning (if one can speak of a
meaning without intentionality: without vision or even
aim), patient awaiting of God, patience of excess (an a
Dieu, as I express myself now); but an awaiting where
nothing is awaited. "134
Let us leave the last word to Emmanuel Levinas. A
word for the orphan, a word whose destination we would
not want to divert by addressing it to this other orphan,
the one who has been so from the very beginning, the one
who has been orphaned from even the condition of being
an orphan, this orphan without a father, if one can still say
this, without a dead father, this orphan-he or she-for
whom "infinite fecundity," "the infinity of paternity," and
the "marvel of the family"135 would remain a forbidden
certainty, the place of an older and even more immemor
ial question, the urgency of a concern for a still insatiable
hospitality.
We will thus keep, for the moment, to what Levinas

says elsewhere, literally, on the subject of the "Sinai Reve
lation" of the Torah, and on the subject of a translation or
a thought of translation to be invented, a bit like politics
itself.
What is the meaning of that notion of the heavenly origin of

the Torah? In the literal sense, of course, it is a reference to
the Sinai Revelation, to the divine origin of the text. There is
no question here of putting that meaning aside. But if it
is not possible to describe the lived meaning of such terms,
one can inquire about the experience in which it is ap
proached. . . to seek a translation that the properly religious
.
surplus of truth already presupposes. . . The Torah is tran

.
scendent and from heaven by its demands that clash, in the

final analysis, with the pure ontology of the world. The
Torah demands, in opposition to the natural perseverance of
each being in his or her own being (a fundamental ontolog
ical law), concern for the stranger, the widow and the orphan,
a preoccupation with the otherperson. 136 '
Notes
Notes
Adieu
The following notes were created by Vanghelis Bitsoris for
his Greek translation of Adieu (Athens: AGRA, 1996), then in
cluded in the French edition. [Existing English translations of
texts by Levinas and others have been used whenever possible,
though many have been slightly modified to suit the context of
Derrida's argument.-Trans.]
1. C£ Jacques Derrida, The Gift o/Death, trans. David Wills
(Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1995), 47:
It seems to me that adieu can mean at least three things:
1. The salutation or benediction given (before all constative lan
guage "adieu" can just as well signify "hello," "I can see you,"
"I see that you are there," I speak to you before telling you
anything else-and in certain circumstances in French it
happens that one says adieu at the moment of meeting rather
than separation);
2. The salutation or benediction given at the moment of sepa
ration, of departure, sometimes forever (this can never in fact
be excluded), without any return on this earth, at the mo
ment of death;
3. The a-dieu, for God or before God and before anything else or
any relation to the other, in every other adieu. Every relation
to the other would be, before and after anything else, an adieu.
I27
128 Notes to :Adieu'
[In his translation of "Bad Conscience and the Inexorable" (see

n. II below), Richard Cohen captures much of the semantic
richness of adieu with the English idiom "God bless." For an
excellent discussion of the adieu, see Hent de Vries, '�dieu, a
dieu, a-Dieu," in Ethics as First Philosophy, ed. Adriaan Peper
zak (New York: Routledge, 1995) : 2II-19. This discussion is ex
panded in de Vries's Philosophy and the Turn to Religion (Balti
more: The Johns Hopkins University Press, 1999) and his Hor
ror Religiosus (Baltimore: The Johns Hopkins University Press,
forthcoming); the latter contains an illuminating chapter on
the present book in the context of Derrida's other recent writ
ings on hospitality.-Trans.]
2. Emmanuel Levinas, "Four Talmudic Readings," in Nine
Talmudic Readings, trans. Annette Aronowicz ( Bloomington:
Indiana University Press, 1990), 48.
3. This is in the second of the "Four Talmudic Readings."
4 · Ibid., 48.
5. Ibid.
6. See, e.g., ibid., 50: "Certainly, my responsibility for
everyone can also manifest itself by limiting itself: the ego may
be called in the name of this unlimited responsibility to con
cern itself about itself as well."
7. "Have we been rash in affirming that the first word, the
one which makes all the others possible, including the no of
negativity and the 'in-between-the-two' which is 'the tempta
tion of temptation,' is an unconditional yes?" (ibid., 49) .
8. Ibid.
9. Ibid.
10. See ibid., 50.
II. Emmanuel Levinas, "Bad Conscience and the Inex
orable," in Face to Face with Levinas, ed. Richard A. Cohen (Al
bany: SUNY Press, 1986), 38. This essay is included as the final
section of "La conscience non-intentionnelle," in Entre nous:
Essais sur Iepenser-a-Iautre (Paris: Grasset, 1991) .
12. See, e.g., Emmanuel Levinas, Totality and Infinity, trans.
Alphonso Lingis (Pittsburgh: Duquesne University Press,
1969), 177-79. In "The Trace of the Other" (orig. pub. 1963),
Notes to 'Adieu' 129
Levinas defines the work: "A work conceived radically is a move

ment ofthe same unto the other which never returns to the same.
To the myth of Ulysses returning to Ithaca, we wish to oppose
the story of Abraham, who leaves his fatherland forever for a
yet unknown land, and forbids his servant to bring back even
his son to the point of departure. A work conceived in its ulti
mate nature requires a radical generosity of the same, which in
the work goes unto the other. It then requires an ingratitude of
the other. Gratitude would in fact be the return of the move
ment to its origin." ("The Trace of the Other," trans. Alphonso
Lingis, in Deconstruction in Context, ed. Mark C. Taylor [Chi
cago: University of Chicago Press, 1986] , 348-49.) See also
Jacques Derrida, '�t This Very Moment in This Work Here I
Am," trans. Ruben Berezdivin, in Re-Reading Levinas, ed. Rob
ert Bernasconi and Simon Critchley (Bloomington: Indiana
University Press, 1991) , II-48.
13. See, e.g., Totality and Infinity, 267-69, where Levinas re
lates fecundity to the work.
14. Exodus 26: 31, 33. "You shall make a curtain of blue, pur
ple, and crimson yarns, and of fine twisted linen . . . and the
curtain shall separate for you the holy place from the most
holy." The opening of the tent was protected by a "screen" (epis
pastron, according to the Greek translation of the Septuagint),
while inside the tent the "curtain" (katapetasma) of a veil sepa
rated "the holy and the holy of holies" (to hagion kai to hagion
ton hagion).
15. See Levinas's preface to Marlene Zarader, Heidegger et les
paroles de l'origine (Paris: Vrin, 1986), 12-13. [See also the inter
view with Schlomo Malka published in Les Nouveaux Cahiers
18 (1982-3): 71, 1-8; trans. Jonathan Romney in The Levinas
Reader, ed. Sean Hand (Cambridge, Mass. : Blackwell, 1989) ,
297.-Trans.]
16. See Totality and Infinity, 304-6.
17. This is one of two courses Levinas taught at the Sor
bonne ( Paris N) during 1975-76. It was first published in 1991
under the title "La mort et Ie temps" in Emmanuel Levinas
(Cahiers de l'Herne, no. 60, 21-;'75), and then in 1993 (with the
Notes to :Adieu'
other course from the same year: "Dieu et l' onto-theo-Iogie") in

Levinas, Dieu, la mort et Ie temps (Paris: Grasset, 1993) .
18. "In the duration of time, whose signification should per
haps not be referred to the pair being-nothingness as the ulti
mate reference of meaning, of all that is meaningful and all that
is thought, of all that is human, death is a point from which
time gets all its patience, this awaiting refusing itself to the in
tentionality of awaiting-'patience and length of time,' says
the proverb, patience as the emphasis of passivity. "Whence the
direction of this course; death as the patience of time." (Dieu,
la mort et Ie temps, 16.)
19. See ibid., 122: "We meet death in the face of the Other."
20. See ibid., 17: "Death is, in beings, the disappearance of
the expressive movements that made them appear as living
movements that are always responses. Death will touch above all
this autonomy or expressivity of rriovements that goes so far as
to cover someone's face. Death is the without- response."
21. See ibid., 20: "Death is this irremediable gap: biological
movements lose all their dependence upon signification or ex
pression. Death is decomposition: it is the without-response."
22. Ibid., 47.
23. "Death is interpreted in the whole philosophical and re
ligious tradition either as a passage to nothingness or as a pas
sage to another existence, continuing in a new setting." (Total
ity and Infinity, 232.)
"
24. See ibid., 232: "More profoundly and as it were a priori
we approach death as nothingness in the passion for murder.
The spontaneous intentionality of this passion aims at annihi
lation. Cain, when he slew Abel, must have possessed such a
knowledge of death. The identifying of death with nothingness
befits the death of the other in murder."
25. See ibid., 232-33: "The identifying ofdeath with noth
ingness befits the death of the other in murder. But at the same
time this nothingness presents itself there as a s�rt of impossi
bility. For the Other cannot present himself as Other outside of
my conscience, and his face expresses my moral impossibility
of annihilating. This interdiction is to be sure not equivalent to
Notes to :Adieu' 131
pure and simple impossibility, and even presupposes the possi

bility which precisely it forbids-but in fact the interdiction al
ready dwells in this very possibility rather than presupposing it;
it is not added to it after the event, but looks at me from the
very depths of the eyes I want to extinguish, looks at me as the
eye that in the tomb shall look at Cain."
26. See Dieu, la mort et Ie temps, 123: "To bring to the fore
the question that death raises in the proximity of the neighbor,
a question that, paradoxically, is my responsibility for his death.
Death opens to the face of the Other, which is the expression of
the commandment, 'Thou shall not kilL'"
27. See ibid., 23: "Death is at once healing and impotence;
an ambiguity that perhaps indicates another dimension of
meaning than the one whereby death is thought according to
the alternative being/not-being� Ambiguity: enigma."
28. "Bad Conscience and the Inexorable," 40.
29. Levinas defines death as "ex-ception": "The relation with
the death of the Other is neither a knowledge of the death of the
Other nor the experience of this death in its very way of anni
hilating being (if, as is commonly thought, the event of this
death can be reduced to such an annihilation) . There is no
knowledge of this ex-ceptional relation (ex-ception: to seize and
put outside of the series)." (Dieu, la mort et Ie temps, 25.)
30. See ibid., 54: "It is the death of the other for which I am
responsible, to the point of including myself in this death. This
is perhaps shown in the more acceptable proposition: 'I am re
sponsible for the other insofar as he is mortal.' The death of the
other is the first death."
31. See ibid., 31 and 199: "This responsibility for the Other
is structured as the one-for-the-other, indeed even as the one
hostage of the other, hostage in his very identity as irreplaceably
called, before any return to self For the other in the guise of
oneself, right up to substitution for the Other."
32. Ibid., 21.
33. Ibid., 25-26.
34. This is the text "Knowledge of the Unknown," first pub
lished in La nouvelle revue frant;aise, no. 108 (1961, 1081-95,
13 2 Notes to :Adieu'
then again in 1969 in L'entretien infini, translated as Maurice

Blanchot, The Infinite Conversation, trans. Susan Hanson (Min
neapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1993), 51-52.
35. See The Infinite Conversation, 50-51:
- . . . I will add that if we are able to have commerce with this
unknowable, it is precisely in fear or in anguish, or in one of those
ecstatic movements that you just refused as being non-philosophi
cal; it is there that we have some presentiment of the Other-it
seizes us, staggers and ravishes us, carrying us away from ourselves.
-But precisely in order to change us into the Other. If in
knowledge-even dialectical knowledge, and through any inter
mediary one might want-there is appropriation of an object by a
subject and of the other by the same, and thus finally a reduction of
the unknown to the already known, there is in the rapture of fright
something worse; for it is the self that is lost and the same that is al
tered, shamefully transformed into something other than: myself.
36. See Dieu, la mort et Ie temps, 134: "It is my mortality, my
condemnation to death, my time on the verge of death, my
death not as the possibility of impossibility but as pure rapture,
that constitute the absurdity that makes possible the gratu
itousness of my responsibility for the Other."
37. The Infinite Conversation, 51-52.
38. See Totality and Infinity, 86-88: "The Other measures me
with a gaze incomparable to the gaze by which I discover him.
The dimension of height in which the Other is placed is as it were
the primary curvature bf being from which the privilege of the
Other results, the gradient of transcendence. The O�er is meta
physical. . . . The relationship with the Other does not move (as
does cognition) into enjoyment and possession, into freedom;
the Other imposes himself as an exigency that dominates this
freedom, and hence as more primordial than everything that
takes place in me . . . . The presence of the Other, a privileged
heteronomy, does not clash with freedom but invests it."
39. See ibid., 89: "The term welcome of the Other expresses
a simultaneity of activity and passivity which places the relation
with the other outside of the dichotomies valid for things: the
a priori and the a posteriori, activity and passivity. But we wish
to show also how, starting from knowing identified with
Notes to :Adieu] 13 3
thematization] the truth o f this knowing leads back to the rela

tion with the Other, that is, to justice."
40. Ibid., 305: "To posit being as Desire and as goodness is
not to first isolate an I which would then tend toward a be
yond. It is to affirm that to apprehend oneself from within-to
produce oneself as I-is to apprehend oneself with the same
gesture that already turns toward the exterior to extra-vert and
to manifest-to respond for what it apprehends-to express; it
is to affirm that the becoming-conscious is already language,
that the essence of language is goodness, or again, that the
essence oflanguage is friendship and hospitality. "
41. A reference t o The Theory ofIntuition in Husserls Phe
nomenology, Levinas's dissertation for the doctorat de troisieme
cycle, defended and published in 1930.
42. Emmanuel Levinas, Theorie de !'intuition dans la phe
nomenologie de Husserl (Paris: Vrin, 1970), 7; The Theory ofIntu
ition in Husserls Phenomenology, trans. Andre Orianne (Evans
ton: Northwestern University Press� 2d ed., 1995) . [As the trans
lator notes (xlix), Levinas's short preface or avant-propos, from
which the above quote was taken, was omitted from the transla
tion and replaced by the translator's foreword so as to provide a
series of "historical remarks more specifically directed to today's
English reader."-Trans.J
43. The Theory ofIntuition in Husserls Phenomenology, lvi.
44. Ibid., Iv.
45. Ibid., lvi.
46. See, e.g., Dieu] la mort et Ie temps, 133 : " Does not the
traumatism of the other corne from the Other?"
47. It is tempting to suggest that a large part of Derrida's
text '�t This Very Moment in This Work Here I Am" might be
read as a long commentary on this expression, in relation to
both Levinas's use and interpretation of it and Derrida's own
critical perspective. As for Levinas, a note in Otherwise than Be
ing or Beyond Essence [trans. Alphonso Lingis (The Hague:
Martinus Nijhoff, 1981), n. II on 199J refers back explicitly to
Isaiah 6: 8: Then I heard the voice of the Lord saying, 'Whom
shall I send, and who will go for us?' And I said, 'Here I am;
send me!'" Note that in the Septuagint the Greek equivalent of
134 Notes to 'Adieu'
the Hebraic hineni is: idou ego (translated literally, "here is I"),
where the personal pronoun is in the nominative. The meaning
of the pronoun "I" in the accusative as related to responsibility
for the Other is explained by Levinas in Otherwise than Being
or Beyond Essence (141-42) :
The subject in responsibility is alienated in the depths of its iden
tity with an alienation that does not empty th� same of its identity,
but constrains it to it, with an unimpeachable assignation, con
strains it to it as no one else, where no one could replace it. The
psyche, a uniqueness outside of concepts, is a seed of folly, already
a psychosis. It is not an ego, but me under assignation. There is an
assignation to an identity for the response of responsibility, where
one cannot have oneself replaced without fault. To this command
continually put forth only a "here 1 am" (me voici) can answer,
where the pronoun "1" is in the accusative, declined before any de
clension, possessed by the other, sick, identical. Here 1 am-is say
ing with inspiration, which is not a gift for fine words or songs.
There is constraint to give with full hands, and thus a constraint to
corporeality.
48. Dieu, ·/a mort et Ie temps, 16.
49 . See ibid., 134: "This question-the question of death
is its own response to itself: it is my responsibility for the death
of the other. The passage to the ethical level constitutes the re
sponse to this question. The version of the Same toward the In
finite, which is neither aim [viseeJ nor vision, is the question, a
question that is also a response, but in no sense a dialogue of
the soul with itself. Question, prayer-does this not corne be
fore all dialogue?"
50. "Bad Conscience and the Inexorable," 39-40. "Infinity
would have no meaning for a thought that goes to the limit,
and the a-Dieu is not a finality. It is perhaps this irreducibility
of the a-Dieu or of the fear of God to eschatology, an irre
ducibility that interrupts within the human the consciousness
that was on its way toward being in its ontological perseverance
or toward death which it takes as the ultimate thought, that is
signified, beyond being, by the word 'glory.' The alternative be
tween being and nothingness is not ultimate. "
51. Ibid., 40.
Notes to 'Welcome' 13 5
A Word of Welcome
. 1. Enseignement magistral also refers to a lecture style of
teaching.-Trans.
2. "Host" and "guest" are in English in the original.-Trans.
3. Emile Benveniste, Indo-European Language and Society,
trans. Elizabeth Palmer (Coral Gables, Florida: University of
Miami Press, 1973), 71fE
4. Emmanuel Levinas, Totality and Infinity, trans. Alphonso
Lingis (Pittsburgh: Duquesne University Press, 1969), 51. For
this understanding of the Master, the "welcoming of the mas
ter," and the "welcoming of the Other," see also 100-101 and
passim. The concept of expression is determined by the same
logic of teaching and "receiving." "To receive the given is al
ready to receive it as taught-as an expression of the Other"
(92) . [Throughout, we have silently altered this and other
translations where necessary to better reflect what Derrida is
discussing in the French original.-Trans.]
5. During the summer of 1996 some three hundred illegal
immigrants of Mrican descent (the so-called sans-papiers, im
migrants without proper papers) took refuge in the Church of
St. Bernard in Paris in order to avoid expulsion from France
and to protest recently enacted immigration policies. On Au
gust 23, police stormed the church and took the protesters into
custody. Some were sent back to their country of origin, while
others, after a good deal of media coverage and public protest,
were ultimately allowed to remain in France.-Trans.
6. Totality and Infinity, 299. My emphasis.
7· Ibid., 93·
8. I have tried to demonstrate this elsewhere, by means of a
somewhat different path, in a discussion of decisionism in the
work of Carl Schmitt. By speaking of a "passive decision," of an
"unconscious decision," of a "decision of the other," and of
what "to give in the name, to give to the name, of the other"
might mean, I tried to argue that "a theory of the subject is in
capable of accounting for the slightest decision" (Politics of
Friendship, trans. George Collins [New York: Verso Press, 1997],
68-69). I there referred-so as to try to put it into question-
Notes to 'Welcome'
to the traditional and predominant way of determining the sub

ject, the one that Schmitt himself, among so many others,
seems to assume. It is obviously not the one that Levinas privi
leges when he redefines subjectivity, as we will see in a moment.
9. In the section of "No Identity" entitled "Subjectivity
and Vulnerability," in Collected Philosophical Papers, trans. Al
phonso Lingis (Dordrecht, The Netherlands: Martinus Nijhoff,
1987), 146.
10. Totality and Infinity, 51. "The notion of the face . . . sig
nifies the philosophical priority of the existent over Being, an
exteriority that does not call for power or possession, an exteri
ority that is not reducible, as with Plato, to the interiority of
memory, and yet safeguards the I who welcomes it."
Such a "safeguard" of course becomes the name and the
place of all the problems to follow, just as much as the welcom
ing, an-archy, anachrony, and infinite dissymmetry com
manded by the transcendence of the Other. · What about the
"I," safe and sound, in the unconditional welcoming of the
Other? What about its survival, its immunity, and its safety in
the ethical subjection of this other subjectivity?
II. Ibid., 80.
12. Ibid., 93.
13· Ibid., 85.
14. Ibid., 82, my emphasis. "We call justice this face to face
approach, in discourse," says Levinas (71), who underscores this
sentence and thus seems to define justice before the emergence
of the third. But is there any place here for this "before"?
15. Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence, trans. Alphonso
Lingis (The Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1981), 150. Totality and
Infinity already welcomes, with such words, the "ineluctable"
occurrence of the third as "language" and as "justice." C£, for
example, 213, 305, etc. We will return to this below.
16. Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence, 67, 191 n. 2.
17. Ibid., 157. The "contradiction in the Saying" perhaps
stems from this inevitability (both fortunate and unfortunate),
from this Law of substitution, from substitution as Law: the
third interrupts (distances) without interrupting (distancing)
Notes to 'W1elcome' 13 7
the face to face with the irreplaceable singularity o f the other.

That is why Levinas speaks here of distancing ("the other and
the third . . . put distance between me and the other and the
third")-and this is justice-though he had written in Total
ity and Infinity (71), " UIe calljustice this face to face approach, in
discourse. "
18. This is one of the recurring themes in the two essays I
have previously devoted to Levinas's work: "Violence and Meta
physics," in Writing and Difference, trans. Alan Bass (Chicago:
University of Chicago Press, 1978), 79-153, and (�t This Very
Moment in This Work Here I Am," trans. Ruben Berezdivin,
in Re-Reading Levinas, ed. Robert Bernasconi and Simon
Critchley (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1991), II-48.
19. "Peace and Proximity, " trans. Peter Atterton and Simon
Critchley, in Emmanuel Levinas: Basic Philosophical Writings,
ed. Adriaan T. Peperzak, Simon Critchley, and Robert Bernas
coni (Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 1996), 168. Lev
inas underscores only the word "unique."
20. "In its ethical position, the self is distinct from the citi
zen born of the City, and from the individual who precedes all
order in his natural egoism, from whom political philosophy,
since Hobbes, tries' to derive-or succeeds in deriving-the
social or political order of the City" ("Useless Suffering," trans.
Richard Cohen in The Provocation of Levinas: Rethinking the
Other, ed. Robert Bernasconi and David Wood [New York:
Routledge, 1988] , 165) .
21. French parjure, like English "perjury," denotes the delib
erate or willful giving of false or misleading testimony before a
court of law, but it is also often used outside a strictly legal con
text and is not so closely tied as its English counterpart to the
willful intent to deceive. Parjure can thus be used to describe
the breaking of just about any oath or obligation, whether in
tentionally or not, and so can be applied to acts of treason, be
trayal, or infidelity, to breaches of promise, faith, or trust.
Trans.
22. Totality and Infinity, 201-2.
23 . We are here closer than it might seem to certain state-
Notes to 'welcome'
ments in Totality and Infinity that explicitly situate the will in

terms of a betrayal that is always possible: "The will essentially
violable harbors betrayal in its own essence" (229); "The will
thus moves between its betrayal and its fidelity which, simul
taneous, describe the very originality of its power" (231) . . My
emphasis.
24· For example, Totality and Infinity, 51, 82, 85, 88, 89, 93,
100, 155, 300, etc.
25. Ibid., 155. My emphasis.
26. Ibid. You and thou are the only words underscored by
Levinas.
27. Ibid., 155-56. My emphasis.
28. "The absoluteness of the presence of the other, which
has justified our interpreting the exceptional uprightness of
thou-saying as an epiphany of him, is not the simple presence
in which in the last analysis things are also present" (the section
of "Meaning and Sense" entitled "The Trace," in Collected
Philosophical Papers, 106) . This text situates an illeity beyond
being, a "thirdperson that is not definable by the oneself, by ip
seity." The il of this illdty is marked by irreversibility and by an
"unrectitude" that here seems to have no negative connotation.
A certain "rectitude," on the contrary, might in fact reduce the
transcendence of this illeity. See 103-4.
29· Totality and Infinity, 157.
30. Ibid., 258.
31. Ibid., 260�61.
32. Existence and Existents, trans. Alphonso Lingis (The
Hague: Martinus Nijhoff, 1978); Time and the Other, trans.
Richard A. Cohen (Pittsburgh: Duquesne UniverSIty Press,
1987) .
33. Existence and Existents, 84-85.
34. Time and the Other, 84-87.
35. Totality and Infinity, 254. My emphasis . .
3 6. Franz Rosenzweig, The Star ofRedemption, trans. Wil
liam W Hallo (Notre Dame: Notre Dame University Press,
1985), 300. Levinas also cites this verse from Leviticus (25: 23) in
the section of "No Identity" entitled "Foreignness to Being," in
Notes to ' Welcome' 13 9
Collected Philosophical Papers: "No land will be alienated irrev

ocably, for the earth is mine, for you are but strangers, domi
ciled in my land" (148).
37· ''At This Very Moment in This Work Here I Am." As
noted above, Levinas will return to the logic of these proposi
tions, in particular, in 1985: ''At the time of my little book enti
tled Time and the Other, I thought that femininity was a
modality of alterity-this 'other genre,' this 'other gender'
and that sexuality and eroticism were this non-indifference to
the other, irreducible to the formal alterity of the terms taken
together as a whole. I today think that it is necessary to go back
even further and that the exposure, the nakedness, and the 'im
perative request' of the face of the Other constitute a modality
that the feminine already presupposes: the proximity of the
neighbor is non-formal alterity" (remarks recorded in February
198 5 in the Zurich weekly Construire by L. Adert and J.-Ch.
Aeschlimann) . But already in Otherwise than Being or Beyond
Essence a new phenomenology of the skin, of its exposure to be
ing wounded or caressed, situates a "responsibility before eros"
(192 n. 27) .
38. "The relationship established between lovers in voluptu
osity . . . is the very contrary of the social relation. It excludes
the third, it remains intimacy, dual solitude, closed society, the
supremely non-public. The feminine is the other refractory to
society, member of a dual society, an intimate society, a society
without language" ( Totality and Infinity, 264-65) .
40. Ibid., 157-58.
41. A word that Levinas once wrote with an a, in 1968, in
the first version of "Substitution" (in the Revue Philosophique de
Louvain 66, no. 91 [1968] : 491). The word "essance" also ap
pears in De Dieu qui vient it l'idee (Paris: Librairie Philos
ophique J. Vrin, 1982) , 164.
42. Totality and Infinity, 304.
43 . Here Derrida alludes to a phrase of Charles Peguy: "In
the history of thought, Descartes will always be the French
knight who took off at such a good pace." See "Note conjointe
Notes to 'Welcome'
sur M. Descartes et la philosophie cartesienne," in Charles

Peguy: Oeuvres en Prose (Paris: Editions de la Pleiade, 1961),
1359·
44. Beyond the Verse: Talmudic Readings and Lectures, trans.
Gary D . Mole (London: The Athlone Press, 1994), 195.
45. Totality and Infinity, 24·
46. Ibid., 305.
47. Archives de philosophie, vol. 34, no. 3 (July-September
1971) : 388, reprinted in Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence,
193 n. 3 5·
48. See, for example, Otherwise than Being or Beyond
Essence, 183. [In the following paragraph Derrida cites 193 and
94.-Trans.]
49. Totality and Infinity, 298: "We have thus the conviction
of having broken with the philosophy of the Neuter: with the
Heideggerian Being of the existent whose impersonal neutral
ity the critical work of Blanchot has so much contributed to
bring out."
Since the thought of the Neuter, as it continues to be elabo
rated in the work of Blanchot, can in no way be reduced to
what Levinas understands here by the Neuter, an enormous
and abyssal task remains open. Levinas himself suggests this,
much later, precisely on the subject of the Neuter and the there
is [il y a] : "I think Maurice Blanchot's work and thought can be
interpreted in two directions at the same time" ("On Maurice
'
Blanchot," in Proper Names, trans. Michael B . Smith [Stan
ford: Stanford University Press, 1996], 154). Yes, in at least two
directions.
50. Totality and Infinity, 1)4-56. These analyses are de�el
oped in an at once fascinating and problematic way in the chap
ter "Phenomenology of Eros." They were already announced in
the lectures of 1946-47 gathered together under the title Time
and the Other. As we have already emphasized, the difference
between the sexes is analyzed there beyond "some specific dif
ference," as a "formal structure." Beyond "contradiction" or "the
duality of two complementary terms," it "carves up reality in
another sense and conditions the very possibility of reality as
Notes to ' Welcome'
multiple, against the unity of being proclaimed by Parmenides"

(85-86) . Destined to hide, to "a flight before the light" and to
"modesty," femininity represents everything in alterity that re
sists concealment/unconcealment, or veiling/unveiling, that is,
a certain determination of truth. It is, in truth, alterity itself:
"alterity is accomplished in the feminine" (87-88) .
5I. "Openness can be understood in several senses," we read
in the section of "No Identity" entitled "Subjectivity and Vul
nerability," in Collected Philosophical Papers, 145. The first has to
do with the openness of an object to every other object (a ref
erence to Kant's third analogy of experience in The Critique of
Pure Reason); the second concerns intentionality or the ecstasy
of ek-sistence (Hussed and Heidegger) . The "third meaning" is
more important for Levinas; it concerns the "denuding of the
skin exposed," the "vulnerability of a skin exposed, in wounds
and outrage, beyond all that can show itself," "sensibility" "of
fered to the caress," but also "open like a city declared open
upon the approach of the enemy." Unconditional hospitality
would be this vulnerability-at once passive, exposed, and
assumed.
53· Ibid., 299·
54. Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence, II2.
55. Ibid., II4· See also II7, 128, 141, 158, 167.
56. This allusion to a passage from Lamentations (3: 30) is
found elsewhere in a very discreet contestation of its Christian
reinscription, a pathetic, mortified, indeed masochistic rein
scription: "Vulnerability is more (or less) than passivity receiving
a form or a shock. . . . 'He offered his cheek to the smiters and
was filled with shame,' says, admirably, a prophetic text. With
out introducing a deliberate searching for suffering or humilia
tion (turning the other cheek), it suggests, in the primary suffer
ing, in suffering as such, an unendurable and harsh consent that
animates the passivity and does so strangely despite itself, al
though passivity as such has neither force nor intention, and no
likes or dislikes" (the section of "No Identity" entitled "Subjec
tivity and Vulnerability," in Collected Philosophical Papers, 146) .
142 Notes to 'Welcome'
57. Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence, III 12. -
58. Permit me to refer once again to Benveniste's analyses in

the chapter of Indo-European Language and Society devoted to
hospitality. They would also call for a reading and for numer
ous questions that must for the moment be left in suspense.
59. Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence, II8.
60. Ibid., II2.
61. Ibid., 123. The preceding page gave an affirmative an
swer to this question of the link between the election and the
responsibility of the unique subject, unique and irreplaceable,
paradoxically, insofar as it is subject to substitution. "Has not
the Good chosen the subject with an election recognizable in
the responsibility of being hostage, to which the subject is des
tined, which he cannot evade without denying himself, and by
virtue of which he is unique?" The analysis of this situation
takes into account an absolute "lateness" that dethrones the
authority of the present or of anamnesic presentation, that lim
its the freedom but not the responsibility of the moral subject
(of Job, for example, who can be responsible for an evil he
"never wished"), and that makes this entire logic of the hostage
depend on the unconditionality of a yes that is older than in
fantile or pre-critical spontaneity, a yes as "the very exposure to
critique. "
Descartes had already been called t o appear, called to bear
witness ("the unimpeachable witness of Descartes's Third Med
itation") in Totality and Infinity, precisely at the moment of the
reinscription of the ego cogito: a subject subjected to its election,
responsible for having to respond, secondarily, yes to a first yes,
to this first call that, as we said above, like every yes, even if it is
the first, already responds: "The I in the negativity manifested
by doubt breaks with participation but does not find in the cog
ito itself a stopping place. It is not I, it is the other that can say
yes. From him comes affirmation; he is at the commencement
of experience. Descartes seeks a certitude, and stops at the first
change of level in this vertiginous descent. . . . to possess the
idea of infinity is to have already welcomed the Other" (Total
ity and Infinity, 93) . To have welcomed this yes of the other, to
Notes to ' Welcome' I 43
greet this infinity in separation, or to say it otherwise, in its ho

liness, is the experience of the a-Dieu. The Adieu does not wait
for death but calls, responds and greets in the relation with the
other insofar as it is not, insofar as it calls from beyond being.
To God [A Dieu] beyond being, where the yes of faith is not in
compatible with a certain atheism or at least with a certain
thought of the inexistence of God (beyond being) . We will look
more closely later at the use Levinas was able to make of this
word a-Dieu. Though the experience of the a-Dieu can remain
silent, it is no less irrecusable. It is from within this experience
that we speak here, even when we speak in a whisper, and it is
toward it that we will return, toward this infinitely difficult
thought to which Levinas gave, in the French language and by
means of its idiom, with its idiom as destination, an excep
tional chance, a rare economy, one that is, in a word, at once
unique, more than old, inaugural, and yet also replaceable: al
ways translatable by paraphrases, of course, and as such always
exposed to inanities.
62. Totality and Infinity, 213. The question of the third was
not only present, as we see, but developed in Totality and In
finity. One is thus a bit surprised by the concession Levinas
seems to make to one of his interlocutors during an interview.
On the question of the third and justice, he seems to admit that
Totality and Infinity did not adequately treat these themes: "the
word 'justice' applies much more to the relation with the third
than to the relation with the Other. But in reality the relation
with the Other is never uniquely the relation with the Other:
the third is represented in the Other from the very beginning;
in the very apparition of the Other the third already looks at
me, already concerns me . . . . You are right, in any case, to
make this distinction. The ontological language used in Total
ity and Infinity is not at all definitive. In Totality and Infinity
language is ontological because it wants above all to avoid be
ing psychological" (De Dieu qui vient a l'idee, 132-33) .
63. "God and Philosophy," in Collected Philosophical Papers,
165.
64. Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence, I21. My emphasis.
144 Notes to {�lcome'
65. In the section of "Meaning and Sense" entitled "The

Trace," in Collected Philosophical Papers, 106.
66. Ibid., 106-7.
67. In the Time of the Nations, tran$. Michael B. Smith
(London: The Athlone Press, I994), 97.
68. Beyond the \!erse, I93.
69. I have tried to express this in a general fashion but with
particular emphasis on Levinas's thought on fraternity (c£ Pol
itics ofFriendship, 304-5). Levinas here comes close to, among
many others, the Kant of the The Doctrine of Virtue [see "The
Ethical Doctrine of Elements" in the "The Doctrine ofVirtue, "
The Metaphysics ofMorals, second part, sections 46-47, trans.
Mary ]. Gregor (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press,
I99I)J . I analyze this relation at some length (Politics ofFriend
ship, 252-63), and suggest that "the determination of friendship
qua .fraternity . . . tells us something essential about ethics."
Kant: "All men are as brothers under one universal father
who wills the happiness of all."
Levinas: "The very status of the human implies fraternity
and the idea of the human race . . . . it involves the common
ness of a father, as though the commonness of race would not
bring together enough" (Totality and Infinity, 2I4).
To trace the destiny of this fraternity beyond the family, all
the way to the order of justice and the political, one must take
into account what Levinas says, as if in passing, about the non
coincidence with uniCity and thus with the self This is the ir
ruption of equality, and thus already of the third: "It is my re
sponsibility before a face looking at me as absolutely foreign
(and the epiphany of the face coincides with these two mo
ments) that constitutes the original fact of fraternity. Paternity
is not a causality, but the establishment of a unicity with which
the unicity of the father does and does not coincide. The non
coincidence consists, concretely, in my position as brother; it
implies other unicities at my side. Thus my unicity qua I con
tains both self-sufficiency of being and my partialness, my po
sition before the other as a face. In this welcoming of the
face . . . equality is founded. It cannot be detached from the
Notes to <Welcome' 145
welcoming of the face, of which it is a moment" (Totality and

Infinity, 214).
It would also be necessary to follow the later development of
this analysis in "Transcendence and Fecundity" and, especially,
in "Filiality and Fraternity." Filiality is there determined before
all else as-or indeed only as-the "father-son relationship." It
again inscribes equality within election: "each son of the father
is the unique son, the chosen son . . . . a unique child, an only
child." It is by virtue of this "strange conjuncture of the fam
ily" that "fraternity is the very relation with the face in which
at the same time my election and equality . . . are accom
plished." Next comes the deduction of the "third" and of the
socio-political "We" that "encompasses the structure of the
family itself" (Totality and Infinity, 278-80) . See also Otherwise
than Being or Beyond Essence, 140, 152, and passim: "the struc
ture of the-one-for-the-other inscribed in human fraternity, in
the one keeper of his brother, the one responsible for the
other"-this is what would have remained "unintelligible for
Plato, and had to lead him to commit a parricide on his father
Parmenides"; "The unity of the human race is in fact posterior
to fraternity" (166).
70. In the Time o/the Nations, 97.
71. This discourse of substitution is to be read from out of
the depths of an abyssal history. We spoke just a moment ago,
citing Levinas, of a "Judeo-Christian spirituality. " It will one
day be necessary, so as to recall and understand Islam, to ques
tion patiently many of the affinities, analogies, synonymies and
homonymies, be they the result of a crossing of paths, some
times unbeknownst to the authors, or of necessities that are
more profound, though often perplexing and oblique. The
most pressing (and no doubt least noticed) example in France is
to be found in another thought of substitution, one that, under
this very name, traverses the entire oeuvre and adventure of
Louis Massignon. Inherited from Huysmans-whom Levinas
in fact evokes early on in From Existence to Existents, "between
1940 and 1945"-and at work throughout the tradition of a cer
tain Christian mysticism (BIoy, Foucauld, Claudel, the author
Notes to ''Welcome'
of The Hostage, etc.) to which Massignon remains faithful, the

word-concept "substitution" inspires in Massignon a whole
thought of "sacred hospitality," a foundational reference to the
hospitality of Abraham, or Ibrahim, and the institution, in
1934, of Badaliya-a word that belongs to the Arab vocabulary
of "substitution": "these souls for which we wish to substitute
ourselves 'fil badaliya,' by paying a ransom for them at our ex
pense, is a replacement," say the Statues of the Badaliya, where
the word "hostages" is written in bold letters: "we offer and we
commit our lives, beginning now, as hostages" (Louis Mas
signon, L'hospitalite sacree [Paris: Nouvelle Cite, 1987] , 373-74).
Hostage is again written in bold letters when used in relation to
the first person ("I had been made into a hostage"), as a letter of
1947 reveals (241) . See also 171-73, 262-63, 281 ("fraternal sub
stitution" ), 300-1 and passim. Massignon's use of the word "per
secution" also resonates, up to a certain point (but which one?),
with Levinas's (c£, for example, 305), but on a "front ofIslamo
Christian prayer." C£ also Massignon's "Le linceul de feu
d'Abraham," in Parole donnee (Paris: Editions du Seuil, 1983).
72. In the Time ofthe Nations, 98.
73· Ibid. 74. Ibid.
75. Beyond the \!erse, 183. 76. Ibid., 186.
77· Ibid., 183. 78. Ibid., 177.
79. For example, in "Separation des biens" (Cahiers de
tHeme, 1991, 465) . There Levinas puts forward a legitimate, le
gal argument, no doubt (the State ofIsrael "includes citizens of
every denomination. Its religious party is neither the only party
nor the most influential one"), but those who doubt the "laic
ity" of this State wil(not be easily satisfied by this argument.
80. ''Au-dela de l'Etat dans l'Etat," in Nouvelles lectures tal-
mudiques (Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1996), 63.
81. Ibid., 62.
82. Ibid., 64.
83· Ibid., 48.
84. Beyond the \!erse, 187. My emphasis.
85· Ibid., 192. 86. Ibid., 194.
· 87· Ibid., 195. 88. Ibid., 194.
Notes to 'Welcome' 1 47

90. Ibid., 193-94. [In the following paragraph, Derrida re
lates these lines to a passage from the final section of the chap
ter "Substitution" in Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence,
128.-Trans.]
91. Beyond the Verse, 150-52.
92. Immanuel Kant, Perpetual Peace, trans. Lewis White Beck
(Indianapolis: The Bobbs-Merrill Company, Inc., 1957), 10.
93. In ''Avances,'' preface to Serge Margel's Ie tom beau du
Dieu artisan (Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1995) .
94. Among many other possible examples, see In the Time
of the Nations, III: "The entire Torah, in its minute descrip
tions, is concentrated in the 'Thou shalt not kill' that the face
of the other signifies, and awaits its proclamation therein."
95. To my knowledge, Levinas never speaks of Schmitt. This
theoretician of the political is situated at the opposite extreme
from Levinas, with all the paradoxes and reversals that such an
absolute opposition might harbor. Schmitt is not only a thinker
of hostility (and not of hospitality); he not only situates the en
emy at the center of a "politics" that is irreducible to the ethi
cal, if not to the juridical. He is also, by his own admission, a
sort of Catholic neo-Hegelian who has an essential need to ad
here to a th�)Ught of totality. This discourse of the enemy as the
discourse of totality, so to speak, would thus embody for Lev
inas the absolute adversary. More so than Heidegger, it seems.
For Heidegger does not give in either to "politism" or to the
fascination of a (supposedly Hegelian) totality. The question of
being, in its transcendence (epekeina tes ousias, a phrase that
Heidegger also often cites), goes beyond the totality of beings.
The passage beyond totality was thus, at least in its formality, a
movement whose necessity Heidegger, no less than Rosen
zweig, recognized. Whence the strained and precarious filia
tions of a heritage.
96. In English in the original.-Trans.
98. Ibid.
99. Ibid., 306.
Notes to 'Welcome'
IOO. Totality and Infinity, 300, c£ also 30 5 and passim.

IOI. Ibid., 30I and passim.
I02. Ibid., 300, 30 5 .
I03. Ibid., 172-73. My emphasis.
I04. Ibid., 306.
I0 5 . Ibid.
I06. Ibid., 300. My emphasis.
I07. Ibid.
I08. Otherwise than Being or Beyond Essence, II2.
I09 . De Dieu qui vient a l'idee, 2 50. [Page II of this text is
cited in the passage just above.-Trans.]
IIO. Ibid., 12. My emphasis.
III. For example, after having named the devotion of the a
Dieu (see above: ''A way of being destined or devoted that is de
votion itself"), Levinas continues: ''A devotion that, in its dis
inter-estedness, does not fail to reach a goal, but is diverted-by
a God 'who loves the stranger' rather than shows himself-to
ward the other man for whom I am responsible. Responsibility
without concern for reciprocity: I have to be responsible for the
Other without concerning myself about the Other's responsibil
ity toward me. Relation without correlation or love of the neigh
bor, a love without eros. For-the-other man and, through this,
a-Dieu ! " (De Dieu qui vient a l'idee, 12-13) . Or again: "But the
commitment from this 'profound past' of the immemorial
comes back to me as order and demand, as commandment, in
the face of the other man, of a God 'who loves the stranger,' of
an invisible, non-thematizable God. . . . Infinity to which I am
destined or devoted by a non-intentional thought for which no
preposition in our language-not even the a [to] to which we
resort-would be able to translate the devotion. A-Dieit whose
diachronic time is the only measure, the unique number [chiffre
unique], at once devotion and transcendence" (ibid., 2 50) .
II2. Beyond the Verse, 52.
II3. Regarding this chapter, see Daniel Payot's Des villes
refuges: Temoignage et espacement (La Tour d'Aigues: Editions
l'Aube, 1992) . I treat this from another angle in Cosmopolites de
tous les pays, encore en effort! (Paris: Editions Galilee, 1997) .
Notes to 'Welcome' 149
II4. Psalms 132: 13 . New Revised Standard Version: The New

Oxford Annotated Bible (New York: Oxford University Press,
1991) .
This verse is re-translated, interpreted, reinscribed, and med
itated upon in Chdnt d'Outre Tombe, by Michal Govrin, in or
der to introduce a reading of Celan's Jerusalem ("Sag, dasJ
Jerusalem ist"), in Ie passage desfrontieres (Paris: Editions Gali
lee, 1994) , 228: ''A passion that has not let go of the West for
some twenty-five centuries. The passion to conquer this city
woman-wound. A passionate madness . . . The desire to be in
Jerusalem, to possess her . . . The desire to be the conqueror of
Jerusalem, her sole possessor and lover, this exclusive passion
might have as its origin and model the God of the Bible: 'Get
up, Lord, so as to go into your place ofrepose. . . . For the Eter
nal has made his choice in Zion. He desired it as his dwelling.
This will be my place ofrepose for ever. There I will dwell for I
lusted (ivitiha) after her. '"
II5. Beyond the Verse, 38. II6. Ibid., 42.
117. Ibid., 40. II8 . Ibid.
II9· Ibid., 43· 120. Ibid., 44.
121. Ibid., 46. 122. Totality and Infinity, 305.
123. For example: "The third looks at me in the eyes of the
Other-language is justice . . . . The poor one, the stranger,
presents himself as an equaL His equality within this essential
poverty consists in referring to the third, thus present at the en
counter, whom in the midst of his destitution the Other al
ready serves. He comes to join me. But he joins me to himself
for service; he commands me as a Master.. . . . By essence the
prophetic word responds to the epiphany of the face . . . . an ir
reducible moment of a discourse which by essence is aroused
by the epiphany of the face inasmuch as it attests the presence
of the third, the whole of humanity, in the eyes that look at
me" ( Totality and Infinity, 213 ) .
124. See, for example, Totality and Infinity, 298 .
125. Beyond the Verse, 51-52. I emphasize the words "longing"
and "hope." We must be attentive here to the fact that when
Levinas tries to distinguish the Jewish State from some particu-
Notes to 'Welcome'
larism or nationalism, he always speaks not of some present

fact, but of a possibility, of a promise for the future, of an "as
piration," a "commitment," a "hope," or a "project." For exam
ple: "Does not the fact that the history of the Jewish people,
wherein the hope for a Jewish State on earth was always essen
tial, could have caused Sartre to have doubts about the sover
eign and maj estic architecture of Hegelian logic, also suggest
that the State in question does not open onto a purely political
history, the one written by the victorious and triumphant? And
that such a project, far from suggesting a nationalistparticular
ism, is one of the possibilities of the difficult humanity of the
human?" These lines conclude a couple of pages devoted to
Sartre at the time of his death ("Un langage qui nous est fami
lier," in Emmanuel Levinas, Les Cahiers de la nuit surveillee
[Lagrasse: Editions Verdier, 1984] , 328) . Levinas insists that
throughout the evolution of his thought, beginning with Rt
flexions sur la question juive [trans. George J. Becker as Anti
Semite andJew (New York: Schocken Books, 1948)] , Sartre re
mained faithful to the State of Israel, "in spite of all the com
prehension shown for Palestinian nationalism and its genuine
sorrows" (327). To the expression "Palestinian nationalism"
there will never correspond the expression "Israeli nationalism."
When Levinas writes, "What Israel is inaugurating in the Holy
Land is not just one more nationalism or sect" ("Separation des
biens," Cahiers de l'Herne [1991], 465), he nonetheless speaks of
the "religious grandeur" of the Zionist project. "These days, one
does not carry the Bible in one's luggage with impunity" (ibid.) .
But let us not forget, let us never forget, that the same Bible
also travels in the luggage of Palestinians, be they Muslim or
Christian. Justice and thirdness.
126. I Kings 19: 12-15.
127. ''A priori exposed to substitution"-which is to say, per
haps, "before" all sacrifice, independently of any sacrificial ex
perience, even if the possibility of such experience might be lo
cated here. As a word and as a concept, does this a priori (at
once formal and concrete) have a place in Levinas's discourse?
It is not certain. This raises the enormous question of the rela-
Notes to 'Welcome'
tionship between substitution and sacrifice, between the being

hostage, the being-host, and the sacrificial experience. Levinas
often uses the word "sacrifice" to designate the "substitution
which precedes the will" (Otherwise than Being or Beyond Es
sence, 127), though he relates it to its Judaic signification, that
is, to the notion of an approach-"the approach, inasmuch as it
is a sacrifice" (ibid., 129).
128. See the articles collected and presented by Catherine
Chalier under the titles "Epreuves d'une pensee" and "Quel
ques reflexions sur la philosophie de l'hitlerisme," in the Cahier
de l'Herne devoted to Levinas (ed. Catherine Chalier and
Miguel Abensour [Paris: Editions de l'Herne, 1991] ) . [See "Re
flections on the Philosophy of Hitlerism," trans. Sean Hand,
Critical Inquiry 17 (Autumn 1990): 63-71.-Trans.]
129. "The secularization of all spiritual values during the
nineteenth century gave rise both to Jewish nationalist doc
trines and the easy assimilation that made possible the pure and
simple disappearance of the Jew. Two ways of escaping or re
nouncing the fact of the diaspora; two paths that the Covenant
has always refused to follow. For it remained faithful to an
older vocation. By proclaiming that Judaism was only a reli
gion, it asked ofJews more, and not less, than Jewish national
ism, and offered them a task more worthy than Judaization"
(,Tinspiration religieuse de l' alliance" ["The religious Inspira
tion of the Covenant"] ' 1935, in ibid., 146).
130. Or a parable? ''According to a Talmudic parable, all
Jews, past, present, and future, were there at the foot of Sinai;
in a certain sense, all were present at Auschwitz" ("Separation
des biens," ibid., 465).
131. From the lecture course Sur la mort et Ie temps, in ibid.,
68; reprinted in Dieu, la mort et Ie temps, ed. Jacques Rolland
(Paris: Grasset, 1993), 122.
132. Emmanuel Levinas, "La conscience non-intention
nelle," in Cahiers de l'Herne, n8-19, and in Entre nous: Essais
sur Iepenser-a-Iautre (Paris: Grasset, 1991), 150. [See "Bad Con
science and the Inexorable," in Face to Face with Levinas, ed.
Richard A. Cohen (Albany: SUNY Press, 1986), 40.-Trans.]
Notes to 'Welcome'
133. De Dieu qui vient a tidee, 134.

134. Ibid., 151.
135. Once again the "marvel of the family" between-or be
yond-Hegel, Kierkegaard, and Rosenzweig: "The situation in
which the I thus posits itself before truth in placing its subjec
tive morality in the infinite time of its fecundity-a situation
in which the instant of eroticism and the infinity of paternity
are conjoined-is concretized in the marvel of the family. The
family does not only result from a rational arrangement of an
imality; it does not simply mark a step toward the anonymous
universality of the State. It identifies itself outside of the State,
even if the State reserves a framework for it" (Totality and In
finity, 306).
None of the questions that might be raised by these inter
pretations of the family and paternity should blind us to certain
irreducible complications: not only, as we have noted, does the
feminine-being signify, as "welcoming par excellence," the ori
gin of ethics, but paternity can never be reduced to virility, for
it is almost as if paternity disturbed the order of sexual differ
ence within the family. We spoke earlier of this paradox: pater
nity is, with regard to the State, anarchy itself The virility of
heroic virtue, on the other hand, often takes on a negative con
notation in its association with war and the State. Near the very
end of Totality and Infinity, the word virile is used in a way that
conforms to its use throughout. It is a question each time of a
political and warlike courage that risks death in the finite time
of the State, as opposed to the infinite fecundity of the fa
ther/son relation. "Situated at the antipodes of the subject liv
ing in the infinite time of fecundity is the isolated and heroic
being that the State produces by its virile virtues."
136. In the Time ofthe Nations, 61. My emphasis.
ME R I D IA N
Crossing Aesthetics
Jacques Derrida, Adieu to Emmanuel Levinas

Werner Hamacher, Premises: Essays on Philosophy and
Literaturefrom Kant to Celan
Aris Fioretos, The Gray Book
Deborah Esch, In the Event: Reading Journalism,
Reading Theory
Winfried Menninghaus, In Praise ofNonsense:
Kant and Bluebeard
Giorgio Agamben, The Man Without Content
Giorgio Agamben, The End ofthe Poem: Studies in Poetics
Theodor W. Adorno, Sound Figures
Louis Marin, Sublime Poussin
Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, Poetry as Experience
Ernst Bloch, Literary Essays
Jacques Derrida, Resistances ofPsychoanalysis
Marc Froment-Meurice, That Is to Say: Heidegger's Poetics
Francis Ponge, Soap
Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, Tjpography: Mimesis, Philosophy,
Politics
Giorgio Agamben, Homo Sacer: Sovereign Power and Bare Life
Emmanuel Levinas, Of God Who Comes to Mind
Bernard Stiegler, Technics and Time, 1: The Fault ofEpimetheus
Werner Hamacher, pleroma-Reading in Hegel
Serge Leclaire, Psychoanalyzing: On the Order ofthe
Unconscious and the Practice ofthe Letter
Serge Leclaire, A Child Is Being Killed: On Primary Narcissism
and the Death Drive
Sigmund Freud, Writings on Art and Literature
Cornelius Castoriadis, WOrld in Fragments: Writings on Politics,
Society, Psychoanalysis, and the Imagination
Thomas Keenan, Fables ofResponsibility: Aberrations and
Predicaments in Ethics and Politics
Emmanuel Levinas, Proper Names
Alexander Garda Diittmann, At Odds with AIDS: Thinking
and Talking About a Virus
Maurice Blanchot, Friendship
Jean-Luc Nancy, The Muses
Massimo Cacciari, Posthumous People: Vienna at the
Turning Point
David E. Wellbery, The Specular Moment: Goethe's Early
Lyric and the Beginnings ofRomanticism
Edmond Jabes, The Little Book of Unsuspected Subversion
Hans-Jost Frey, Studies in Poetic Discourse: Mallarme,
Baudelaire, Rimbaud, Holderlin
Pierre Bourdieu, The Rules ofArt: Genesis and Structure ofthe
Literary Field
Nicolas Abraham, Rhythms: On the Work, Translation, and
Psychoanalysis
Jacques Derrida, On the Name
David Wills, Prosthesis
Maurice Blanchot, The Work ofFire
Jacques Derrida, Points _ : _ : Interviews, I974 -I994
J - Hillis Miller, Topographies

.
Philippe Lacoue-Labarthe, Musica Ficta (Figures of 1Vtzgner)

Jacques Derrida, Aporias
Emmanuel Levinas, Outside the Subject
Jean-Franc:;:ois Lyotard, Lessons on the Analytic ofthe Sublime
Peter Fenves, "Chatter':- Language and History in Kierkegaard
Jean-Luc Nancy, The Experience ofFreedom
Jean-Joseph Goux, Oedipus, Philosopher
Haun Saussy, The Problem ofa Chinese Aesthetic
Jean-Luc Nancy, The Birth to Presence
Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Derrida, Jacques
[Adieu a Emmanuel Levinas. English]
Adieu to Emmanuel Levinas / Jacques Derrida ; translated by
Pascale-Anne Brault and Michael Naas.
p. cm. - (Meridian, crossing aesthetics)
Includes bibliographical references.
ISBN 0-8047-3267-1 (hardcover : alk. paper). - ISBN 0-8047-3275-2
(pbk. : alk. paper)
1. Levinas, Emmanuel. 1. Tide. II. Series: Meridian
(Stanford, Cali£)
B2430.L484D4513 1999
194-dc21
(3 This book is printed on acid-free, recycled paper.

Original printing 1999
Last figure below indicates year of this printing:
08 07 06 05 04 03 02 01 00 99
Typeset by James P. Brommer

in IO.9!I3 Garamond and Lithos display

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ADIEU

& David E. Wellbery

, _____ .___.�_..... ..... ...._._�.. � � ". �_,: _�1

Adieu to Emmanuel LevJnas / Jacques

Stanford University Press

Printed in the United States ofAmerica

longer there, who will no longer respond. With tears in

an innocence without naivete, an uprightness without stu­

This same meditation also sets to work-as each medi­

ings will set this as their task. We already see innumerable

Death: not, first of all, annihilation, non-being, or noth­

voice 1 would so much love to hear today when it says that

The death of someone is not, despite what it might have ap­

And a bit further on:

The relation to death in its ex-ception-and, regardless of its

as in Plato nor an aiming toward nothingness as in Heideg­

The unknown is emphasized here. The "unknown" is not

But we must not despair of philosophy. In Emmanuel Lev­

If the relation to the other presupposes an infinite sep­

whelmed by this necessity, which is not a constraint but a

prodigious book,41 which was for me, as for many others

place. And I believe that what occurred there, in this sec­

our debt to Levinas is that we can, thanks to him, assume

Welcome [bienvenue], yes, welcome.

On the threshold of this gathering around Emmanuel

and then speak the language of hospitality-of course, I

anniversary of the death of Emmanuel Levinas, mark this

what is proper to it, in its very [meme] essentiality. And

is to welcome [I take the liberty of emphasizing this word] his

If I felt I had to accept the great and undue honor of

myself as quickly as possible on the threshold of hospital­

Now, in a first reversal, Levinas suggests thinking the

the conditions of universal hospitality in cosmopolitical

law and politics otherwise? Would it not in fact open­

Has anyone ever noticed? Although the word is neither

tion; as we will hear in a moment, he explicitly opposes

the face, hospitality and not thematization."6

welcome of the face, hospitality and not thematization."

have the right to give the name "decision" to a purely au­

are speaking here of the call as such, if there is one. For if

as a synonym of to welcome, receives only to the extent, an

Infinity," the scrupulous precautions of "but," "yet," and

To approach the Other in discourse is to welcome [my em­

Reason in a position to receive: what can this hospitality

passivity before passivity, analyses whose stakes will be­

that results in no community of concept or totality-a re­

Earlier, a note specifies that justice is "this very pres­

Levinas does not shrink from analyzing the conse­

third does not wait; it is there, from the "first" epiphany of

interrupted without being interrupted, as face to face, as

Doubtless, responsibility for the other human being is, in its

The deduction proceeds in this way right up to "the po­

unleashed in the experience o f the neighbor and o f ab­

the necessity of specifying an "oath before the letter,"

This spectral "possibility" is not, however, the abstrac­

come offered to a language, language of the hote, of the

general but the transcendence o f language, words and

The simple living from . . . the spontaneous agreeableness of

If this feminine alterity thus seems to lack the "height"

, ___ ._.�_..... ..... ...._._�.. � � ". �_,: _�1

an innocence without naivete, an uprightness without stu

This same meditation also sets to work-as each medi

Death: not, first of all, annihilation, non-being, or noth

The death of someone is not, despite what it might have ap

as in Plato nor an aiming toward nothingness as in Heideg

But we must not despair of philosophy. In Emmanuel Lev

If the relation to the other presupposes an infinite sep

place. And I believe that what occurred there, in this sec

myself as quickly as possible on the threshold of hospital

law and politics otherwise? Would it not in fact open

have the right to give the name "decision" to a purely au

To approach the Other in discourse is to welcome [my em

passivity before passivity, analyses whose stakes will be

that results in no community of concept or totality-a re

Earlier, a note specifies that justice is "this very pres

Levinas does not shrink from analyzing the conse

The deduction proceeds in this way right up to "the po

unleashed in the experience o f the neighbor and o f ab

This spectral "possibility" is not, however, the abstrac

dwell. To dwell is not the simple fact of the anonymous real

Need one choose here between two incompatible read

We will not b e able to carry out here a task that is none

To metaphysical thought, where a finite has the idea of infin

What does this mean? A deliberate terminological deci

lation with the Kantian legacy that-as we will see-dis

plexity of this problematic, in Kant and in Levinas, be

and it describes the movement of ethics, the ethical rela

tionship with Desire which it calls for; through this sepa

Phenomenology can follow out the reverting of thematiza

description finds the neighbor bearing the trace of a with

it is in the trace of the other that a face shines: what is pre

tions (A l'heure des nations, I9 88). In the chapter "The Na

What clearly seems suggested by these last words, "al

To explain this terrible alternative between the inhu

By means of discreet though transparent allusions, Lev

fered would thus itself signify a belonging to the mes

guities, to remain, in the form, for example, of a non

place of corruption par excellence and, perhaps, the ulti