We must never dissociate the question of desire and of pleasure when we treat the political, and especially the democratic, the question of conscious or unconscious pleasure, from the calculation and the incalculable to which desire and pleasure give rise. Jacques Derrida, Rogues To begin with a question, as he often did, dare we attempt to synthesize even two or three of the most far-flung strands of Derrida's delicate, infinitely diverging web of ideas? Even if one can question the legitimacy of such a synthesis of the themes of globalization, gender and forgiveness in Derrida last works, the attempt allows us to see more clearly how his thought provides a guiding thread that might help us understand what returns as we refuse to forgive the unforgivable, and that in perhaps two registers, the personal and the political. I So, I will start with an antithesis: the pair that for a while became the heavily gendered icons of the war in Iraq, Jessica Lynch and Lynndie England. This pairing can be found in several media commentaries on the Abu Ghraib prison scandal. Bruce Kluger, in USA Today,, calls England the evil twin of Jessica Lynch, that other West Virginia soldier whose actions in Iraq were inflated by reporters in search of the perfect war story.2 The long-haired blond victim-become-hero because of her refusal to perpetuate Pentagon myths about her treatment at the hands of the Iraqis and subsequent "rescue" from them has her mirror image in the short-haired brunette "girl with the feral smile"1 become victim when her pregnancy and the relationship with an accused batterer,4 now married to someone else, that caused it were revealed. Contradictions within contradictions, starting with "American prison torture," or perhaps "woman soldier." Was what Lynndie England, her lover, and their cohorts did unforgivable? What Derrida says most clearly in his last work is that "there is only forgiveness, if there is any, where there is the unforgivable," and he says this precisely in the context of "crimes against humanity."5 This statement is a variation on his discussions of responsibility and the impossibility of relying on rules in moral conduct, for instance in Of the Name? but also in Rogues: "the responsibility of what remains to be decided or done (in actuality) cannot consist in following applying, or carrying out a norm or rule. Wherever I have at my disposal a determinable rule, I know what must be done, and as soon as such knowledge dictates the law, action follows knowledge as a calculable consequence: one knows what path to take, one no longer hesitates" (R 84, his emphasis). Both forgiveness and morality must be absolute, outside the law of reciprocity or the reciprocity of law, and therefore also literally irrational, without reason. Thus only the unforgivable can be truly forgiven. "I continue to believe that it is faith in the possibility of this impossible and, in truth, undecidable thing from the point of view of knowledge, science, and conscience that must govern all our decisions."7 What makes the unforgivable unforgivable? On this point Derrida moves in two directions. First, he suggests that nothing is unforgivable, that any conditions placed on forgiveness deprive it of its absolute quality. What must be forgiven is neither the person in isolation from the act nor the person as s/he is now in distinction from the person as s/he was at the time of the act." Rather, what must be forgiven is both the act and the person, "the fault and the guilty as such, where the one and the other remain as irreversible as the evil, as evil itself, and being capable of repeating itself, unforgivably" (OCF 39, his emphasis) This must be done without requiring contrition, regret, or even any recognition of wrongdoing on the part of the person responsible (which seems to be the case with Lynndie England and her lover). And it must be done, as Kant suggests, purely for its own sake, without conditions either that might link forgiveness to the concept "of God, of such a God, for example, who prescribed forgiving the other (person) in order to merit being forgiven in turn" (OCF 38). …