On a Provisional Finitude of Indebtedness

Short books can be powerful – for what they explicitly say and for what they allude in potentia. This is the case of Debt and Guilt: A Political Philosophy by Elettra Stimilli (2018), a lucid and masterly reading of generative connections between theology, politics and economics from the inception of Christianity to present. This book’s central idea is that there is a profound twofold link running through market capitalist economy and Christian political theology: at the center of this link there is, on the one hand, God’s gift of life to humans (as unrepayable debt) and, on the other, the guilt associated with the impossibility of redemption of this debt, if not only through sacrifice. Aimed for an interdisciplinary audience, the book structures the argument in a concise yet wideranging fashion through a review of political, theological and anthropological arguments. It also brings the discussion up to current themes such as the 2008 austerity experienced by southern EU countries and critiques a neoliberalist push toward a feminization of labor. The book relies on a methodological and political apparatus that spans from studies of German and Roman legal systems to anthropological theories of the gift and sacrifice, to critical theory and feminist takes on the psychic life of power. I want to dedicate the rest of this short response to highlighting, from an anthropological perspective, some features of these book’s approach that makes it remarkable for the breath, depth and conciseness of the argument, and then gesture toward some open-ended questions the book as a whole helps us to raise. Let me make here three short points to highlight Stimilli’s reflections on indebtedness, guilt and Capital. Stimilli’s analysis is primarily rooted in economics (oikonomia), theological and political formations anchored in a history of early Christianity, medieval theology, protestant spirit and Catholic affects. Hence first, Stimilli rightly points out the Pauline connection between saving and grace, where the bond of the flesh to sin can only be released by a christic act of sacrifice – the ultimate release of the flesh as a state of liberation (119). The debitum religionis that connects God and human beings is incarnated in the form of a liturgical office. Agamben sees this power of the Opus Dei seated in the figure of the priest and minister, through whose power “law and religion necessary coincides.” Stimilli then extends this argument to the figure of the “entrepreneur of oneself,” who in a capitalist economy does not “admit delegates” and continuously builds on himself as “human capital” (115). In Stimilli’s view, the ontological status of the entrepreneur of oneself – echoing a power of the liturgical office that cannot be affected by the performance of those who are holding it – has ethical