In the previous chapter, we conducted an explosion and reconstruction of the foundation. We cleared away the rubble of the traditional notion that "violence is disorder" and laid down a new theoretical cornerstone: the essence of order is a relatively stable system of "observational consensus," an island of certainty "converged" through sustained acts of "observation" upon the infinite "ground of possibility." And violence is not the opposite of order, but rather the most primitive, most rigid form of order's creation -- a means of ultimate physical "forced convergence" aimed at eliminating "observational divergence."
Now, we must begin to erect the first floor of the theoretical edifice upon this cornerstone. The core task of this chapter is to focus on the crucial action of "convergence." If "observation" is the aim and the "ground of possibility" is the firing range, then "convergence" is the entire process of a bullet being fired, striking the target, and thereby creating a definite bullet hole in infinite space. It is the magical transformation from the "potential" to the "actual," from the "plural" to the "singular."
Yet magic comes in more than one form. In the grand drama of human society, "convergence" appears in two starkly different guises: one is the courteous persuader, the other the merciless executioner. ""Two Forms of 'Convergence': Negotiated Consensus and Forced Consensus" will conduct a fine comparative anatomy of these two forms, revealing their fundamental differences in mechanism, precondition, and limitation. This will help us understand why civilized society so esteems the former, yet can never completely escape its hidden dependence on the latter.
Subsequently, we will shift our focus entirely to the more unsettling form. "Violence as the Ultimate 'Convergence' Mechanism: Drawing Physical Boundaries for Possibility" will delve into why violence -- rather than reason, morality, or divine revelation -- can serve as the ultimate guarantor of all "convergence" mechanisms. We will explore how violence, through its absolute control over physical space, delineates inviolable "real" boundaries for abstract concepts and symbols. Here, we will see that the map of order is ultimately drawn by the point of the bayonet.
Finally, we will penetrate to the most microscopic, most essential core of the mechanism of violence. If violence is a language, what are its grammatical rules? What are its most basic words? "The Semiotics of Pain: How Violence Becomes the Most Indisputable 'Language' of Communication" will attempt to answer this question. We will analyze "pain," that unique physiological and psychological phenomenon, exploring how it can penetrate all cultural and conceptual barriers to become a universal, direct, and "pre-symbolic" medium of ultimate communication. Here, we will understand that the "persuasiveness" of violence ultimately stems from its merciless exploitation of the most fundamental weakness of human existence.
The journey of this chapter will be a descent into the dark core of order's birth. It is not comfortable, even somewhat cruel, but indispensable. For only by understanding how "certainty" is forged through the alternating interplay of negotiation and force can we truly grasp the eternal melody of power and resistance, oppression and liberation that runs throughout human history.
Two Forms of "Convergence": Negotiated Consensus and Forced Consensus
"Convergence" -- the act of selecting and solidifying specific "certainties" from the "ground of possibility" -- takes on countless practical forms in human society. Yet if we trace back to their origins, all "convergence" mechanisms can ultimately be classified into two fundamental forms. The first we call "negotiated consensus"; the second, "forced consensus." These two, like the left and right hands of order, together shape the social reality in which we live. But their operational logic, inner spirit, and ultimate destinations could not be more different.
Negotiated Consensus: The Dance of Symbols and the Voluntary Crown
The process of establishing a "negotiated consensus" is an elegant dance conducted in the world of symbols. Its core features are "intersubjectivity" and "voluntariness." It seeks, through non-coercive means, to bring multiple subjects holding different "observations" voluntarily toward a common platform of cognition or action. The realization of this process depends on a series of exquisite social inventions:
Language and Reasoning: These are the most basic tools of negotiated consensus. The "ideal speech situation" conceived by Habermas is an extreme theoretical model. In it, all participants aim solely at seeking truth, communicating without distortion, and ultimately reaching a "rational consensus." In reality, although the "ideal speech situation" has never been fully realized, every successful debate, negotiation, or academic discussion is a partial practice of this spirit. Its essence is to attempt to bridge divergence by adjusting the other's "observation" framework, rather than attacking the "observer" himself.
Procedure and Justice: When reasoning cannot exhaust divergence, the negotiation mechanism appeals to procedures that all parties have recognized in advance. Democratic elections are a typical example. Voters have deep "observational divergences" over "which candidate is the better leader," but they (ideally) share a higher-order "meta-consensus" -- accepting the legitimacy of the procedure "one person, one vote, majority rule." Thus, although election results cannot eliminate divergence, they can "converge" into an "action certainty" (i.e., who will govern) that all must (temporarily) accept. Legal trials operate on the same principle; their justice derives not only from the verdict but also from the strict adherence to a complete set of procedures -- recusal, cross-examination, defense. The charm of procedure lies in its transformation of a potentially ever-diverging dispute over "substance" into a dispute over "form" with clear rules and an endpoint.
Mutual Benefit and Contract: In economic and social interactions, negotiated consensus is often reached through "contracts." When two merchants sign a contract, they temporarily converge their different "observations" of "risk," "return," and "responsibility" onto the terms written in black and white. This convergence is possible because both parties expect "mutual benefit" from it. The essence of the spirit of contract is the recognition of the other as an independent "observer," respect for their free will, and the creation of a mutually beneficial symbolic construct (the contract) to constrain future action, thereby producing a predictable "certainty."
The entire charm of "negotiated consensus" lies in its bestowing upon "certainty" a crown of "voluntariness." The order it produces is experienced by participants as an extension of their own will, not as a yoke imposed from outside. Such order possesses greater internal stability and lower maintenance costs, for it largely achieves "self-governance." In a society highly dependent on negotiated consensus, people obey the law not merely out of fear of punishment, but because they inwardly identify with the "reasonableness" or "legitimacy" of the system of rules. This is an ideal, civilized form of order, and the central pursuit of all liberal political philosophy since the Enlightenment.
Yet this elegant dance of symbols has extremely demanding conditions on its stage. Once these conditions cease to exist, the mechanism of "negotiated consensus" quickly fails, exposing its profound internal fragility.
The Fragile Boundaries of Negotiated Consensus:
- Shared Symbolic Foundation: The prerequisite of negotiation is that all parties must share a basic system of symbols. This refers not only to language but also to the cultural assumptions, logical rules, and value bottom lines behind language. When a modern scientist and a tribal shaman discuss "the cause of disease," it is almost impossible for them to reach any negotiated consensus, because their entire ontological and epistemological frameworks for "observing" the world are fundamentally different. Their communication is out of focus from the very start.
- Relative Balance of Power: Genuine negotiation occurs only between parties that are roughly balanced in power. When one side possesses overwhelming advantage, "negotiation" tends to degenerate into a form of "concession" or "inducement." The "negotiation" between a multinational corporation and a impoverished village over land development involves an extremely asymmetric power structure. The villagers may ultimately sign the contract, but whether this was out of "voluntariness" or out of helpless "resignation" -- having no other choice -- is a question that demands a large question mark. Without a balance of power, negotiation easily degenerates into a carefully staged monologue.
- Non-Zero-Sum Game Structure: Negotiated consensus is best at handling "positive-sum" or "non-zero-sum" problems -- "expanding the pie and then redistributing it." But when conflict touches the "zero-sum" realm -- where one party's gain is necessarily another's loss -- the space for negotiation is drastically compressed. Typical examples are disputes involving core identity, historical trauma, or sacred territory. On such issues, any compromise may be seen as a betrayal of one's own foundation of existence. Questions like "Who are we?" or "Whose land is this?" can almost never be "converged" through mutual concessions, because they point to the very legitimacy of the existence of the "observer" themselves.
- Limited Scope of Issues: The effective operation of negotiated consensus also depends on a hidden precondition: the "observational divergences" it addresses must not touch the deepest "meta-observational consensus" that sustains the entire negotiation framework itself. For example, parliamentary debate can proceed because all members accept the meta-consensus of "parliamentary sovereignty" and "constitutional order." Once a member begins to question whether parliament itself should exist, debate cannot continue -- the nature of the conflict escalates from "procedural dispute" within the framework to "existential struggle" that threatens the entire framework.
When any of these conditions is broken, the elegant dance of "negotiated consensus" can no longer continue. At that point, the other hand of order -- "forced consensus" -- steps from behind the curtain to the front of the stage.
Forced Consensus: Physical Discipline and the Involuntary Crown
Unlike the maneuvering of negotiated consensus within the symbolic world, the establishment of "forced consensus" is a one-way discipline carried out in the physical world. Its core features are "unidirectionality" and "involuntariness." It does not seek to change the other's inner beliefs, but instead directly acts upon the other's body or living environment to forcibly change their external behavior, compelling them to accept a "certainty" not born of their own free will.
The achievement of "forced consensus" depends on a more ancient and brutal set of tools:
Violence and Threat: This is the most naked, most classic form of forced consensus. As we analyzed in the previous chapter, by inflicting or threatening to inflict physical pain, one compels the other to abandon the practice of their "observational divergence." The people of a defeated nation, forced to accept the laws and ruling order imposed by the victor -- this is a typical "forced consensus." They may harbor deep hatred and unwillingness in their hearts, but under the discipline of the bayonet, their bodies must learn to obey.
Economic Deprivation: In modern society, coercive force often appears in a more "civilized" guise. By depriving a person of their means of survival (job, shelter, welfare), one can achieve the same goal of forcing obedience. An employee dependent on a salary, even if deeply dissatisfied with the boss's decision, often has no choice but silence and compliance. For the cost of disobedience -- unemployment -- poses a direct physical threat to their survival. The "force" here comes not from the baton but from the fear of hunger. This is a more refined "convergence" mechanism that transforms violence into economic pressure.
Institutional Exclusion: A society, through its legal and institutional design, can systematically exclude certain groups from the arena of "negotiated consensus." For example, under apartheid, the segregated race was not only physically isolated but also systematically deprived of political rights, economic opportunity, and legal protection. They were forced to live in a "reality" unilaterally defined by others; their "observations" and demands were institutionally declared "invalid" from the start. For the oppressed, such an order is a vast prison of "forced consensus."
The "certainty" created by "forced consensus" has a crown stained with rust and tears. The order it establishes, for those forced into it, is an alien, oppressive power. The cost of maintaining such order is extremely high, for it requires continuous investment of violent or quasi-violent resources to monitor and suppress any potential resistance. It lacks an internal foundation of legitimacy; its stability depends entirely on the continued dominance of the coercive party's strength. Once the coercive party's strength declines, or the coerced party finds effective means of resistance, this pressure-maintained "consensus" faces the risk of exploding like a pressure cooker.
The Symbiosis and Transformation of the Two Forms
In real social life, "negotiated consensus" and "forced consensus" are not always clearly demarcated. They often interweave and coexist in complex ways, and can even transform into each other under specific conditions.
A seemingly entirely "negotiated" democratic rule-of-law state has its legal system's ultimate validity guaranteed precisely by the state's monopolized coercive violence machine (police, military). The symbolic dance of law can proceed in an orderly fashion because, at the edge of the stage, there always stands a silent, armed guard. The existence of this guard is itself a kind of silent "force," warning all participants: you may dance freely within the rules, but any attempt to overturn the stage will be met with physical removal. In this sense, any stable "negotiated consensus" must have a potential "forced consensus" as its boundary and ultimate recourse.
Conversely, a consensus initially established entirely by "force" may, over time, gradually "soften" and develop elements of "negotiation." A conquering dynasty, after a generation or two of bloody rule, might find that relying solely on violence to maintain order is too costly. It then begins to attempt some form of cooperation with the conquered elite, absorbing their culture, granting them certain benefits, and constructing through education and propaganda a new "observational consensus" that can legitimize its rule. This process attempts to transform a purely "forced consensus" into a more elastic ruling order that mixes "force" with "negotiation."
Thus, no analysis of any social order can simply classify it as either "negotiated" or "forced." Deeper insight comes from analyzing the specific proportion, mode of combination, and dynamic evolution of these two forms of "convergence" within that society. Is a society moving toward more open negotiation, or sliding toward tighter coercion? Does the core of its power structure rely more on symbolic persuasion or physical discipline? These questions directly touch the core of that social order's freedom and oppression.
Having understood these two fundamental forms of "convergence," we have paved the final stretch of road for our in-depth analysis of violence. For among all coercive means, violence undoubtedly occupies the most special and fundamental position. It is not only an extreme form of "forced consensus" but also the ultimate guarantee that makes all other coercive forms (economic, institutional) effective. Now, let us turn the analytical spotlight entirely upon this ultimate "convergence" mechanism.
Violence as the Ultimate "Convergence" Mechanism: Drawing Physical Boundaries for Possibility
In the toolbox of "forced consensus," there are various tools: economic sanctions, institutional exclusion, public opinion manipulation, cultural hegemony... But violence is undoubtedly the "treasure of the box" placed at the very bottom, not easily used, but capable of ending all arguments once deployed. It possesses this irreplaceable ultimate status because it has a unique capacity that no other mechanism has: through absolute domination of "physical reality," to draw a hard, tangible, insurmountable final boundary for abstract "possibility."
Violence is the ultimate arbiter that forcibly drags the infinite disputes of the symbolic world back down and anchors them to the finite laws of the physical world. Its verdict is endorsed by no higher ideal or authority, but only by the ruthless facts of Newton's laws and biological principles.
From the Battlefield of Symbols to the Battlefield of Physics
Most conflicts in human society begin on the battlefield of symbols. People argue over abstract concepts like "ism," "rights," "god," "justice." These concepts exist in our language and thought, with nearly infinite space for interpretation. A single word can be given hundreds of different meanings; a theory can be extended into countless contradictory inferences. It is precisely because the symbolic world has this inherent "fluidity" and "infinite semiosis" that "negotiated consensus" based upon it is so difficult and fragile. You can use a Bible to justify slavery, and the same Bible to argue for the holiness of abolitionism.
When this symbolic struggle intensifies to the "end point of communication" -- where the "observational consensus" of the two sides is completely incompatible -- the field of conflict undergoes a fundamental shift: from the battlefield of symbols, it descends to the battlefield of physics.
The initiator of this dimensional reduction is violence.
Violence forcibly suspends the seemingly endless game of symbols. It no longer cares whether your "ism" is more noble, or whether your argument for "rights" is more rigorous. It cares only about one question: within this physical space, here and now, whose will can be transformed into an irresistible physical force through effective organization and application of material and bodies?
A civil war is the ultimate physical debate over the ownership of the highest symbol, "national sovereignty." The debaters are no longer diplomats and jurists, but armies. The language of debate is no longer rhetoric and legal provisions, but the range of artillery, the charge of infantry, and the solidity of supply lines. In the end, when one side's army is completely annihilated and its capital's parliament building is occupied by the other side's flag, the debate over the symbolic question "who is the legitimate government of this country" is (at least in the short term) terminated.
The victor's army, through its physical "presence," provides an indisputable physical answer to this abstract symbolic question. The parliament building, this physical space, has been "converged" and "defined" by the victor's violence. Henceforth, all decrees issued from here possess "reality"; all declarations made by the defeated in exile retain only "possibility."
Violence is the sword of Alexander that cuts the Gordian Knot of the symbolic world. It disdains to untie the complex knot; instead, it changes the very nature of the problem through the most direct physical means.
The Creator of Boundaries: How Violence Materializes the "Impossible"
The essence of order lies in the delineation of boundaries. Boundaries distinguish "permitted" from "forbidden," "legal" from "illegal," "us" from "them." And violence is the ultimate delineator and guardian of all significant boundaries. It materializes abstract "impossibility" by creating physical "impassability."
Territorial Boundaries: A border on a map may be just a thin line. Yet the fundamental reason it functions as an effective boundary separating two sovereign entities is that on both sides of this line, armies are deployed, ready to use violence at any moment. This line is the equilibrium point where the violent potentials of two states offset and deter each other. Any unauthorized physical crossing -- whether military invasion or individual illegal immigration -- triggers a reaction from the violence machine. The existence of the army transforms the legal declaration "illegal crossing is impossible" into a highly probable physical reality whose cost is bodily injury or death.
Legal Boundaries: The law prohibits killing. Why is this rule more than just a moral exhortation? Because a whole set of violence mechanisms stands ready behind it. When you contemplate killing, what you must contend with is not just the victim's resistance, but the police's pursuit, the court's trial, and the prison's confinement. The boundary of law is a vast risk zone delineated by this organized violence. By vastly increasing the possible physical cost of the action of "killing" (loss of freedom, even loss of life), it pushes that action from an "option" to an "unthinkable" option for most people. Violence translates the abstract "legal prohibition" into a tangible, body-based "cost-benefit" calculation.
Property Boundaries: "Private property is inviolable" -- what lies behind this slogan? Is it a legal document? A moral concept? Ultimately, it is that when your property is violated, you can summon state violence (call the police) to restore the boundary. A wall defines your yard not only because it is made of bricks, but because it is a symbol that the state's violence promises to protect the space within that wall. If the police no longer respond to your call, the "boundary" meaning of that wall vanishes instantly; it degenerates into a heap of pure physical obstacles, and anyone capable of dismantling it can enter. It is the promise of violence, not brick and mortar, that "converges" a piece of land from pure physical space into "private property" with exclusive rights.
Social Hierarchy Boundaries: In highly stratified societies (such as slavery or caste systems), the boundaries between different ranks are also cruelly maintained by violence. A slave who transgresses the boundary of their station -- for example, by resisting their master -- faces not a verbal reprimand or a wage cut, but the whip, branding, or even death. This violence, directly acting upon the body, teaches the oppressed day after day: your identity boundary is physical; any challenge will be corrected at the cost of your body's pain. Violence transforms a classificatory doctrine about "persons" into a disciplinary technique applied to "bodies."
Through these examples, we can clearly see the unique logic of violence as a "convergence" mechanism: it does not care what you "think"; it only prescribes what you "can" do. It directly manipulates your set of "possibilities" by controlling your body and physical environment. It raises the physical cost of certain possibilities (crossing borders, killing, violating property, challenging hierarchy) to near infinity, thereby "deleting" them at the level of practical operation.
Thus, the "certainty" created by violence is an extremely hard, inflexible certainty. Unlike negotiated consensus, which allows for "exceptions," "deliberation," and "evolution," its language is binary: either obey or be annihilated. The boundaries it draws are like prison walls, whose purpose is to declare: the possibilities beyond these walls no longer exist for you within them.
This "convergence" based on physical coercive force is the ultimate "fallback" plan for all forms of order. When all the veils of symbols, negotiation, and tenderness have been torn away, what order ultimately reveals is this cold, hard skeleton forged by violence. Only by understanding this skeleton's existence can we grasp why the state must monopolize violence at all costs, and why, when this skeleton itself is challenged (i.e., in revolution), such astonishing energy erupts.
But before that, we must go further, diving into the deepest marrow of this skeleton, to explore the ultimate secret of violence's irrefutable "persuasiveness." This secret lies hidden within a seemingly simple yet immensely complex phenomenon: "pain."
The Semiotics of Pain: How Violence Becomes the Most Indisputable "Language" of Communication
Violence, as the ultimate "convergence" mechanism, has all its efficacy resting on a single fulcrum -- its ability to produce "pain" stably and predictably. If an action intended to harm another fails to cause any pain or discomfort, it cannot be called violence; it would be no more than a comical pantomime. Therefore, to understand the essence of violence, we must establish a "semiotics of pain."
This "semiotics" is unique because its core object of study -- pain -- is precisely a "pre-symbolic" force that seeks to destroy all symbols and dissolve all meaning. Yet it is precisely in this destruction and dissolution that violence establishes its own most primitive, most indisputable system of "communication."
Three Dimensions of Pain: A Phenomenological Examination
First, we must distinguish three interrelated yet distinct dimensions of pain:
- Physicality: This is the most basic dimension of pain -- the nervous system's reaction to bodily tissue injury or stimulation. Elaine Scarry, in her classic work The Body in Pain, insightfully points out that a core feature of pain is its "indubitability." For a person suffering acute pain, their pain is the most unquestionable "reality" in the world. It requires no external proof; it is itself the full evidence of its existence. This "reality" stands in stark contrast to our perception of the external world (which might be mere illusion).
- Subjectivity: Although the physical basis of pain is universal, the intensity and quality of how it is experienced and perceived are highly personal. The same stimulus may mean different degrees of pain to different people. More importantly, pain is an extremely "inner" experience, almost impossible to fully share or convey through language. When you try to describe your acute pain to another, language proves so powerless. "Hurts like hell," "like being cut by a knife" -- these are but impoverished metaphors, never allowing the listener to truly "feel it with you." Pain isolates each of us within a bodily prison of absolute subjectivity, unable to be shared with others.
- World-Disintegrating Quality: This is the most profound philosophical dimension of pain. Intense pain possesses the power to destroy the meaningful world we have constructed. When a person is seized by acute pain, the causes, ideals, relationships, and social identities they ordinarily care about quickly recede, becoming distant and unreal. The only thing that remains real and urgent is the pain itself, and the longing for it to end. Pain forcibly reduces a complex "cultural being" living in a world of symbols to a "biological being" concerned only with survival and the avoidance of harm. It temporarily demolishes the "social reality" we have built through "observational consensus," casting us back into a pre-civilized, isolated state of mere physical reality.
Violence as Communication Through "Anti-Language"
Understanding these three dimensions of pain, we can see why violence becomes the most indisputable "language" of communication. It is effective precisely because it is an "anti-language." It does not rely on shared systems of symbols, but instead forcibly implants its own will by systematically destroying the other's symbolic world.
Indisputable "Presence": In a debate, you can question the other's evidence and challenge their logic. But in an interrogation, the torturer conveys an indisputable "message" to the victim by inflicting intense pain: that the torturer's power and will are the only important "reality" here and now. The beliefs, dignity, and secrets cherished by the victim are being crushed and shattered by a more powerful physical "reality." Pain becomes the most "honest" self-announcement of power.
Forced "Empathy": Although pain cannot be shared, the inflicter and the sufferer of violence establish a twisted yet direct "relationship" centered on "pain." The perpetrator knows precisely what kind of hell his actions will replicate on another body. In a "negative" way, he achieves the deepest intervention and control over another subject. He does not need to understand the victim's thoughts; he only needs to understand their nervous system. This is a form of "communication" based on biological instinct, bypassing all cultural and intellectual differences.
Vacuum of Meaning and Implantation of Will: When pain destroys the victim's original meaningful world, they are left in an extremely fragile "vacuum of meaning." At this moment, the only "option" offered by the perpetrator that can end the pain -- typically "obedience," "confession," or "abandonment of resistance" -- becomes the most tempting source of "meaning." Violence completes its process of "thought reform" by first creating a ruin of meaning and then planting its sole flag upon that ruin. The victim's ultimate submission may not come from "believing" the perpetrator's viewpoint, but rather because, in that universe filled with pain, "obedience" is the only driftwood they can grasp that might return them to the human world.
The Symbolization of Pain: Ritual, Torture, and Deterrence
Although pain itself is "pre-symbolic," the violent acts that produce pain in human society are always highly "symbolized" and "ritualized" in order to achieve communication effects beyond the individual level.
Public Execution: The medieval public execution aimed at far more than punishing a criminal. It was a carefully orchestrated "theater of power" directed at the entire populace. By displaying extreme pain inflicted on the criminal's body -- drawing and quartering, burning at the stake -- the monarch's power was dramatically "visualized." The monarch was declaring: this is the fate of those who challenge my "observational consensus" (the law). Each of your bodies is potentially a canvas for my power. This public display of pain, using the ink of fear, redrew the boundaries of power in the hearts of all subjects.
Torture: The purpose of torture is not merely to extract information. It is more fundamentally an institutionalized ritual aimed at completely destroying the subjectivity of the "observer." It seeks not only to make the prisoner confess, but through systematic pain, humiliation, and personality dismantling, to destroy the very foundation of his existence as an "independent observer," forcing him to recognize fully that there is no other "sanctuary" beyond the "reality" defined by the torturer.
Deterrence: In peacetime, violence exists more in the form of "deterrence." Nuclear weapons, as the ultimate form of violence, have their greatest "communicative" value precisely in their "non-use." The Sword of Damocles hanging over humanity ceaselessly conveys the simplest message: "the cost of certain 'observational divergences' (e.g., all-out war between superpowers) would be the shared destruction of all observers; therefore, this possibility must be excluded." The collective imagination and fear of pain itself becomes a powerful "convergence" force, delineating the most basic, inviolable bottom line on the chaotic stage of international politics.
Thus, we have completed a deep dissection of the mechanism of violent communication. It is a dark art that takes the body as its paper, pain as its ink, and fear as its grammar. It can become the ultimate, most indisputable language not because it possesses great truth, but because it most effectively deprives other languages of their material foundation for existence.
It does not seek understanding, only obedience.
It does not build consensus, only silence.
It does not point toward a better future, only toward an irrefutable "present" defined by the victor's will.
The argument of this chapter provides the final, most microscopic piece of the puzzle for our understanding of violence's role in the construction of order. We see that "convergence," as a necessary process in the birth of order, always oscillates between the two poles of "negotiation" and "force." And violence, as the purest form of "force," through its absolute domination of physical reality and its precise deployment of the pre-symbolic medium of "pain," has become the ultimate, unavoidable founder and arbiter of all forms of order.
To acknowledge this is not pleasant. But this unpleasantness is precisely the starting point of serious thought. For only when we no longer harbor any naive illusions about violence, no longer regard it as a mere accidental phenomenon that can be easily "civilized," can we begin to genuinely confront the core question that runs through the entire history of human politics:
We -- these beings of flesh and blood who are both "observers" and potential "bearers of violence" -- how are we to coexist with this order that is founded upon violence and forever shadowed by it? And is it possible for us, without resorting to this ultimate "reality-construction" tool, to create a more resilient, more humane form of "consensus"?
The answers to these questions will guide us into the next part of our exploration: a deep dissection of the state -- that modern Leviathan which has monopolized "legitimate violence" and assumed the role of "macro-observer." There, the theories explored in this chapter will find their largest, most real, and most awe-inspiring field of practice.