Sacrifice is a word that tends to carry some heavy baggage. For some, it brings to mind images of selfless heroes giving up their lives for the sake of those they love. For others, it may bring up memories of the Temple, where animal sacrifices were conducted to cover the sins of their ancient ancestors. Yet, for some others, sacrifice may be viewed as a tragic trope, in which an individual gives everything up, and yet no one notices. Sacrifice can often have undertones of masochism and deep-seeded repressions, while simultaneously offering a vision of hope and renewal. In our increasingly secular imagination, it can be easy to dismiss the concept of sacrifice as simply harboring punitive, even sadistic tendencies within the human psyche.

As an antidote such cynical views of sacrifice, in his 2018 book, Radical Sacrifice, philosopher and theologian Terry Eagleton seeks to recover the theme of sacrifice from the grips of this ominous animosity in order to utilize it as a useful, radical political tool. For Eagelton, the cross is a symbol of radical political possibility, and has been largely ignored by contemporary political thinkers (perhaps with the exception of the political dimensions of liberation theology). While most religious thinkers dismiss Marx as simply being irreligious, Eagelton is among those who see the political and religious possibilities that arise from taking a Marxist approach to Christian theology. 

Overview:

Covering a wide range of literature, philosophy, and theology, Eagleton gives a scathing critique of the secular theories of sacrifice that proliferated in the 20th century, arguing instead that a recovery of Christian theology and political Marxism are the necessary tools that we need to rediscover a truly ethical and political stance of sacrifice. In the preface, Eagelton posits that much of the postmodern political left has, in the long shadow of the 20th century, neglected such topics as “love, death, suffering, sacrifice, evil, martyrdom, forgiveness and so on”(ix), leaving them almost solely in the hands of theologians. Eaglton’s hope here, then, is to offer an expansive and broad-ranging survey through the topic of sacrifice, noting how both Christian theology and radical politics can intertwine and assist one another in providing a truly liberatory vision of sacrifice. 

Eagelton asserts that sacrifice is an inherently political act, “not least because it concerns an accession to power” (7). Adopting a sacrificial stance of self-dispossession, Eagleton argues, serves as an antidote against modern liberal ethics of self-sovereignty, reminding us that our identities are relationally constructed rather than centered on individual subjects. Taking direct aim at Jacques Derrida, Eagleton’s vision of the Christian Crucifixion insists that the nature of sacrifice is rooted in the reciprocity of a gift. A martyr, such as Jesus, sacrifices their life in order to affirm that their sacrifice is indeed a gift. For example, According to Derrida, in order for a gift to be truly free, it must be given without any expectation of reciprocity or return. In contrast, Eagleton sees very little issue with the concept of reciprocity, as he views it to be a way to build community through a shared commitment to solidarity, each individual giving all of themselves unto the other with the expectation that they will reciprocate and, in turn, give an additional surplus of such love. The act of giving a gift relies on the notion that one has been given something in the first place to give away to another. In this way, Eagelton argues, the act of gift-giving and sacrifice is therefore always dependent on the Other, devoid of the economy of the Self. For Eagleton, it is the expectation of utility, rather than mutuality that more often than not ruins the art of gift-giving (111).

Furthermore, in a scathing critique of Rene Girard’s scapegoat thesis, Eagleton argues that Girard essentializes the role of ritual sacrifice, boiling every sacrificial act down into a violent reflection of the scapegoating mechanism. Girard, Eagleton asserts, transforms the Crucifixion into nothing more than a critique of the supposedly barbaristic practice of sacrifice, rather than considering sacrifice’s more radical implication, which is a critique of “the barbarism of the ruling powers” (26). Eagleton critiques the Girardian interpretation of the Crucifixion as being too essentializing, applying his mimetic theory of desire onto every violent event without consideration to the political, material, or social concerns that also surround the event. Eagelton asserts that instead of viewing the pharmakos (scapegoat) as a source of social unity, the Marxist vision offers a mode of sacrifice as a revolutionary agent (178). In short, Eagelton summarizes his argument by writing: “The contrast that counts is one between sacrificing your life to your capital, offering yourself up idolatrously to dead matter which appears to be alive, and finding oneself forced into a living death that might furnish the conditions for a more general flourishing” (180).  Revolution, therefore, becomes a modern version of what the ancient world knew as sacrifice. (181). 

Eagelton’s defense of sacrifice also causes us to reinterpret the role of the martyr in religious and political contexts. In Eagetlon’s Christian Marxism, martyrdom testifies to the need to change the conditions that make it necessary; the death of the martyr in one world bears witness to the possibility of another, and their resoluteness of their death marks the discontinuity between the two (92). The marginalized become the site for political change, their very existence reflecting the inhumanity of the society that fuels their dispossession. As the consistent abuse of the concept during the constant conflicts within the last century has revealed to us, however, sacrifice also bears a potential for an obscene underside in the carnal delights of the death drive. Eagleton takes precautionary steps not to fetishize or romanticize death, but to rehabilitate the concept as one of immense life-giving potential.

Positives:

Above everything else, Eagleton is clearly well read and multidisciplinary in his approach to the topic of sacrifice. The concept of sacrifice has been described and debated within many academic fields, including theology, anthropology, sociology, political theory, and literary theory, and Eagelton does well to bring these theories into conversation with one another. Pulling together quotations from Shakespeare, Marx, Freud, and many more, Eagelton covers a great amount of material in his short, 180 page evaluation of sacrifice. Eagleton is especially adept at taking complex philosophical ideas and condensing them down to their essential parts without sacrificing too much depth. This is a skill that he has cultivated over the past few decades, writing several crash-course introductory texts such as Literary Theory: An Introduction, Marx, and How to Read Literature, and he continues to flex his interdisciplinary knowledge in this work as well. 

Furthermore, Eagleton is erudite in his writing, sharp in his critiques, and often throws in a good bit of sardonic humor alongside his polemic jabs against other continental philosophers of the 20th century. While certainly not an easy read, it helps the more casual reader to catch a glimpse into the general ideas of many of the 20th century’s foremost thinkers, such as Derrida, Douglas, Lacan, Marion, Milbank, and more. Of course it would immensely aid the reader to already possess a cursory knowledge of literary theory, contemporary political theory, and psychoanalysis, Eagelton does a satisfactory job in distilling the ideas into their basic elements. It’s this wide breadth, however, that leads us into one of the central criticisms of this book. 

Criticism:

When attempting to give an accurate summation of this book, I found the task more difficult than usual as I struggled to condense Eagelton’s multifaceted and wide-ranging arguments into a single, cogent thesis. The wide array of voices can be a bit of a whirlwind, as he pulls quotes from Dickenson, Douglas, and Dostoyevsky often within the same paragraph. In several sections of the book, Eagelton can be guilty of simply quoting one author after another, providing little context for the application of such disparate quotes until he is ready to drive his central point home. Every now and again, it can come off that Eagelton might be proof texting in order to support his arguments, throwing quote after quote from notable, relatively authoritative thinkers at the reader until they are left in a whirlwind of seemingly disjointed thought.  It's an argument that makes sense as you read it, but often have trouble communicating to others due to the ever-increasing complexities, tangents, and necessary prior nuggets of context that arise while traveling from Point A to Point B. We, the reader, are more often than not left with many witty gems of insight, but little deep and penetrating substance to take home. 

In addition, Eagelton is firmly committed to a Christian interpretation of sacrifice, and while nitpicking neglected topics is not the most productive in a review like this, it would have been nice if he had brought in a comparative treatment of sacrifice in other religions such as Islam. While I openly acknowledge that may be beyond the very limited scope of this short work, it would have been illuminating to see how this other Abrahmic religion, and its extremist expression of self-sacrifice, could shed some light on contemporary issues of sacrifice in the modern world. 

Finally, in addressing the main arguments of the book, since Eagleton is highly critical of the life-giving potential of many post-modern interpretations of sacrifice, one of the central targets of this book is Rene Girard’s rejection of sacrifice, namely Violence and the Sacred (1972), Things Hidden Since the Foundation of the World (1978), and I See Satan Fall Like Lightning (1999). Girard essentially interpreted sacrifice as a scapegoat mechanism in which a group projects their anxieties onto the sacrifice in order to maintain the social order. While acknowledging Girard’s role in stirring up a lively debate into the nature of sacrifice, Eagleton ultimately chastises Girard’s supposed arrogance in his desire to get rid of the book of Hebrews, as well as accuses his scapegoat theory of being reductive and void of radical political potential. 

It is in this way that I am not convinced that his treatment of Girard is wholly fair. While I believe that much of his criticism regarding the totalizing nature of Girard’s scapegoat thesis has a kernel of validity, I am also hesitant to dismiss the important contribution that Girard has made to our understanding of ritual sacrifice (and more specifically, the Christian Crucifixion). While Eagelton is quite correct in criticizing the lack of political potential within Girard’s thought, he also does not allow for much nuance in his treatment of Girard, especially since Girard later recanted his views on the book of Hebrews, admitting that he had treated it rather simplistically. This is never acknowledged by Eagleton, which is a shame since it might have led to a more nuanced and interesting conversation. In fact, aside from this rather small detail, there is little that I see within Eageleton’s treatment of sacrifice that necessarily comes into conflict with Girard’s mimetic desire. 

Aside from his valid and well-articulated critiques of Derrida and Girard, the rest of his criticism seems to be rather tonally dismissive and lacking in depth, especially in regards to his critiques of thinkers such as Julia Kristeva and Malcom Bull. While his polemics and jabs at other thinkers can be incisive, illuminating, and even humorous at times (such as groaning at having Derrida as a guest at Christmas or God not existing because he would then have to be madly in love with Donald Trump), there are other times where he tends to sound rather mean-spirited. Eagelton can be, at times, a bit too blasé towards those with whom he disagrees, and his casual dismissal of vast bodies of work does not qualify as “uncompromising” (as Milbank’s blurb states), but rather as intellectually lax. Eagelton clearly possesses a brilliant mind and sharp wit, as the large bibliography of his work testifies. While still an intriguing and engaging book, with these shortcomings, this work falls just short of living up to Eagleton’s immense and impressive abilities as a writer and scholar. 

Conclusion:

In short, while I may have listed many criticisms of this book, I don’t want the main takeaway to be that I disliked Eagleton's work. In fact, I’m actually quite fond of much of Eagelton’s bibliography. Throughout his career, Eagelton has consistently worked in a manner that has often inspired my own academic projects: as a writer carefully balanced between academic and popular spheres of reception. Eagelton has made a vibrant and successful career in taking many complex and dense concepts that are usually hoarded behind the walls of the Ivory Tower and disseminating them to those outside of the bourgeoisie elite. This is a position that is often castigated by those within academia, and I applaud Eagelton for his commitment to such a project. While this book may not be his best, it is still far and above many crash-course treatments of such a heavy-laden concept such as sacrifice. At the end, short of the last sentence’s proclamation that revolution is the modern version of ancient sacrifice, we may not be left with much in terms of practical application. Like many of his other introductory works, however, Eagelton does well to give the reader a broad survey of the ways in which Christian theology can be integrated with radical politics. 

It is indeed true that Eagelton’s references and paraphrases can be overwhelming at times. One would be in a good position to read this work if he/she/they already possessed a familiarity with political and social theory. Even if you do not have the prerequisite knowledge, however, this is still a worthwhile book to read. Eagelton does a phenomenal job in course correcting our tendency to lose sight of the radical potential of hope that religion can provide, while giving us an avenue to critique an unjust system of oppression. Challenging oneself with difficult books is a way that we can keep our thinking sharp, and this book gives us much the chew on with every page. One could also see this work as a springboard to discover new writers and texts that they may not have heard of before. This process of discovery, if nothing else, may just make this book an invaluable fountain of fortune.