For more than forty years, my interest in the IPA has flowed from my curiosity about the various psychoanalytic schools of thought and the psychoanalysts who represent them. In 1964, after a long struggle, a number of us decided to break with Lacan (who left the IPA) and to rejoin the International because we espoused its ethical principles and we no longer agreed with Lacan's way of working. From then on, my interest was stimulated by psychoanalytic pluralism and by my contacts with international psychoanalytic colleagues.
I returned from the Vienna Congress in 1971 as secretary of the European Psychoanalytic Federation (EPF) and then served as secretary of the local organizing committee for the 1973 International Congress in Paris. Following this involvement in our international organizations, I was appointed secretary general of the IPA by Serge Lebovici, who was elected president. Some years later, I was elected president of the EPF.
The IPA is seen by some colleagues as a rigid, bureaucratic institution intended to control the practices of its local component societies. Indeed, this was the accusation leveled at us when we separated from Lacan — that we were sacrificing the originality and creativity of his thought to the conservative demands of a powerful American-dominated central body. In finding my way back to the international association, I discovered the richness and diversity of what I call “psychoanalytic cultures.” This term not only connotes the pluralism of the different theoretical orientations and schools, but also takes account of the place of psychoanalysts in their political and social environments and the place of psychoanalysis in the cultural and scientific world.
Although theoretical diversity is well known among American psychoanalysts, it is virtually absent from the European analysts' image of them. In Latin America and particularly in Europe, diversity often takes the form of a “geopolitical” vision that already existed in the 1930s. Michael Balint, an eminent Hungarian psychoanalyst who later emigrated to England, spoke to this point in a seminal paper published in 1952, “Early Developmental States of the Ego — Primary Object Love.” In discussing Vienna, Berlin, and Budapest, he was referring not only to different theoretical currents but also to forms of institutional organization and training methods that were to leave their mark on the subsequent development of the psychoanalytic movement.
One often hears of the existence of a “French school” as one of these present-day psychoanalytic cultures. Unfortunately, national pride often induces French psychoanalysts to emphasize the originality of their way of thinking, leading, in turn, to this “school” being both excessively criticized and excessively extolled. But how is this way of thinking to be defined? Surely, it should not simply be equated with the Lacanian movement, nor with its influence; otherwise, much very important work owing nothing to Lacan's influence that has been done by French analysts in various fields of psychoanalysis would be submerged in the criticism of Lacan. Some examples are the studies of early development conducted by Lebovici and his colleagues, which have influenced child psychoanalysis; the psychosomatic school centered on Pierre Marty; and the work of Didier Anzieu and others on group psychoanalysis.
The “Lacan phenomenon” has certainly played an important part in French psychoanalytic culture, through both its influence and the opposing movements to which it gave rise. Violent conflict, after all, raged between the “Lacanians” and the “anti-Lacanians” throughout more than forty years of psychoanalytic history in France.
At the beginning of this long conflict, in 1953, Lacan played only a minor role in the first split of the French psychoanalytic movement. At the time, the issue was the restructuring of the Paris Psychoanalytical Society. Sacha Nacht and a group of his colleagues wished to establish a highly structured institute of psychoanalysis relatively independent of the society, modeled on contemporary practice in the United States. Their opponents, on the other hand, wanted the training institute to be closely linked to the structure and life of the association. Joined by Lacan, these opponents, most of whom were academics, decided to form their own association. They were disappointed when the IPA refused to recognize them on the grounds that two societies could not exist in the same place.
Lacan's practices, especially as regards the length of sessions, were in fact arousing distrust among influential IPA members. It was not until ten years later that recognition was contemplated, on condition that Lacan relinquish his position as a training analyst. Lacan refused, resulting in the second split, out of which there eventually arose the French Psychoanalytical Association (APF), which fully accepted the principles of the IPA and was recognized by it. As for the Lacanians, they founded the Freudian School, which stayed loyal to Lacan.
Many of those who broke with Lacan to found the APF, such as myself, at first believed that although his practice or way of working was unacceptable, his theoretical ideas had made a contribution to the progress of psychoanalytic thought that could not be ignored. Experience has taught me that this was a mistake; Lacan's practice was inseparable from his theory. It took me a long time to accept this link between practice and theory — a link on which Lacan himself laid stress. The theory, as it happens, was difficult to grasp, because Lacan's thought was disseminated at a weekly seminar over a period of more than thirty years and underwent constant revisions. One could not readily build on a given year's teaching when basic construction work began again every year!
All the same, it seems to me that if we read and reread the essential texts from the 1950s, we can clearly discern the principal divergences from Freudian thought — namely, the radical questioning of the function of the transference, of the notion of intrapsychic conflict, and of the use of interpretation. At the time of the split, however, these theoretical departures were less in evidence than the positive aspects of his teaching, such as the recommendation to reread Freud in a way that remains open to the contemporary cultural world — surrealism, structuralism, the return to Hegel, etc.
Even today, therefore, it is difficult to spell out the influence of Lacan on French psychoanalytic
Daniel J. Widlöcher, M.D., is a training and supervising analyst for the French Psychoanalytical Association. He is also Emeritus Professor of Psychiatry at the University of Paris VI and Honorary Chief of the Department of Psychiatry of the Hôpital de la Salpêtrière. He is President-elect of the International Psychoanalytical Association.
thought. To count oneself a Lacanian, it is not enough to accept the importance of language, the oedipal conflict, and the role of the father, because the practices of many Lacanians have moderated. Many are much less radical than those that are customarily condemned. Some of their number have returned to the foundations of Freudian theory and seek to “fuse” the Lacanian model with Freud's thought. Again, whereas mutual exclusion and the impossibility of debate were the rule between Lacanians and non-Lacanians for decades, the situation has now changed appreciably. Many Lacanians are seeking areas of common ground, while some in the opposing camp are happy to engage with them. In my view, we should accept a dialogue but make it very clear where we differ, in both practice and theory, as well as in the consequences for training.
It seems to me that the non-Lacanian “French school,” which I would prefer to describe as a certain French psychoanalytic culture, is characterized mainly by a predominant interest in Freud's oeuvre, the place of oedipal conflict, and an interest in reducing the influence of the institution in the training of psychoanalysts-to-be even if this training is thereby substantially prolonged. Another feature of note is theoretical eclecticism. The influence of Klein, Winnicott, or Bion varies from analyst to analyst, without giving rise to particular schools. In general, French analysts assimilate certain views but do not espouse specific schools.
All this applies equally to the Paris Psychoanalytical Society and the French Psychoanalytical Association (also located in Paris), despite the pronounced differences in their respective functioning. The former, with a membership exceeding 600, actively embraces a policy of openness in the field of therapy, whereas the latter, which has just sixty members, is more enclosed within itself and has the reputation of being more élitist or even “Malthusian.”
There is nothing surprising about the coexistence of two psychoanalytic societies in a city like Paris. What is perhaps more remarkable is that these two societies have spread into the rest of France and that no independent local societies have come into being. This is presumably due mainly to the country's typical geographic centralism, but also to the fact that in every major city, the analysts appear content to reproduce the model of Parisian duality.
This dualism cannot readily be accounted for by scientific or technical criteria. It is more a matter of style and atmosphere. Even where training is concerned, the lack of selection before commencement of analysis and, if the candidate wishes, the personal analysis being conducted by a non-training analyst — options with which I disagree, but which have been chosen by my own society — are practices no longer very different from those of the Paris Society. In the French Psychoanalytical Association, applications from candidates analyzed by analysts who are not members of the Association may be considered. There is often a greater closeness between individual analysts belonging to the two different societies than among the membership of one and the same society. Consistent with my philosophy, I do not find this situation uncomfortable. Similarly, this stance applies to the members of the “Fourth Group,” a group of analysts who have refused to rejoin the IPA despite their break with the Lacanian School.
I feel less happy with what I see as an undesirable lack of openness to the international movement. Over the years, the European Federation admittedly has succeeded in bringing the French psychoanalysts out of their relative isolation. For example, an active part in the Federation's life has been played by a number of French analysts, such as Alain Gibeault, its outgoing president, who will be IPA secretary general in July 2001. Together we will continue to implement an inclusionary rather than an isolationist policy.
The French psychoanalysts' relations with the IPA are more complex. The IPA is seen as an authoritarian administration in the hands of Americans determined to impose their standards on the world. When French analysts have an opportunity of meeting personally with colleagues from across the Atlantic, their feelings change, but deep down they retain a sense that psychoanalytic practices outside France are utterly baffling. In order to show them that communication between psychoanalysts from different countries or continents is not just a matter of expressing one's own views (on training, for example) but that it can also be enriching to hear what others practice, one of my main aims will be to develop an intensive process of clinical and theoretical exchanges among the younger generations. Facilitation of this process will involve close collaboration with the regional structures.
Another unequivocally positive characteristic of French psychoanalysis is the quality and importance of the exchanges between psychoanalysis and the cultural and scientific environment. Because today there are not many countries where psychoanalysis occupies an important place both in interdisciplinary dialogues and in the universities, the fact that psychoanalysis is represented in France's institutions of higher learning, notwithstanding the familiar media attacks here as elsewhere, makes it a model for other cultures and countries.
As a university professor and head of a psychiatry department (at the Salpêtrière), I have always wanted to emphasize the presence of psychoanalysis among the contemporary sciences and to show that the psychological action of drugs and of psychotherapies takes place on different levels — between which links can potentially be forged. The relations between psychoanalysts and neurobiologists have admittedly not been without their polemics, but we have on the whole succeeded in preserving the place of psychoanalysis in the treatment and understanding of mental disorders. Naturally, this requires that psychoanalysts encourage and maintain a climate of openness between psychoanalysis and the contemporary neurocognitive sciences. This has earned me some criticism from psychoanalyst friends, but this price is a small one if we are to secure the future of psychoanalysis.
The days when schools of psychoanalysis formed around a charismatic leader are now surely gone. The risk, as I see it, is that psychoanalysts might become ensconced in allegiances to these teachings from the past. By confronting these different models in their day-to-day practice, we can keep psychoanalysis alive and enable it to progress further.