Utopia, as a concept, has experienced a resurgence within literature of various genres, ranging from scholarly work inside the 'academy' to diverse accounts of utopian and/or dystopian imaginaries within diverse fictional stories. Identifying what utopia picks out conceptually, however, is challenging, not least due to the limitations inherent in the ways we perceive the world could be. In this dissertation, I first defend a 'processual' account of utopia, contrasting this way of thinking about the idea against any fixed or granular description of some candidate, concrete state of affairs. I then look at the primary methodology leveraged by most processual utopian theorists, namely: utopian hope. After considering this affective, performative stance against what I call 'merely-political' combat, I demonstrate how utopian hope, within processual accounts, turns out to be equivalent to religious faith. As such, processual utopian projects require a return to a mystical, transcendent field of play for both their theoretical and methodological constituents. The second half of my project attempts to outline a fledgling, practical methodology for processual utopia, first identifying a very counter-intuitive directional focus on the part of the privileged when pursuing utopian ends. This focus requires the privileged to consider alternate imaginaries for possible futures while additionally requesting assistance from the marginalized to appropriately parse them. I conclude by examining several instances of liminal 'utopias' that have occurred in the wake of tragic events. These are placed in conversation with fictional accounts of utopian effort in order to highlight why utopian performativity must begin from a space of mutual vulnerability. / Doctor of Philosophy / In this dissertation I aim to do two things. In the first half, I defend the concept of "processual utopia" as a more fruitful way to think about striving for societies that feature less stratification in the way they distribute opportunity and privilege. I contrast this idea with those theories that try to describe, using present-day imaginaries, concretely-imaginable utopias in the here and now. I argue that the latter effort is a fool's errand, a process that incurs insurmountable difficulties in that opposing visions are immediately juxtaposed against any solidified description of what utopia might look like. I then examine the primary constituent of processual utopia's process, namely: utopian hope. I contrast this with the kind of affective performativity normally found within politics and political struggle, concluding that these efforts do not result in utopian ends. This is because what I call the 'merely-political' is bent on a kind of binary striving for power, focused on proving the 'other' side to be subhuman and irrational. Utopian hope counters political maneuvering for a particular vision of 'better' societies on a more transcendental foundation. It looks for a reality that humankind cannot yet understand or describe – something that remains on the horizon as a target for our dreams and efforts. This affective viewpoint should motivate our actions to make currently unimaginable realities possible in a distant, not-seen-by-us, future. I also suggest that utopian hope, although talked about a great deal over the past century by writers such as Ernst Bloch and Ruth Levitas, has its conceptual genesis in religious faith. I argue that the two are equivalent in the case of utopian affect and desire. My foils in this effort are Kierkegaard and St. Augustine and examining their accounts of faith reveals the parallel nature this mystical logic shares with contemporary ideas about utopian hope. In the second half of the dissertation, I connect processual utopian theory to potential practice. The investigative point-of-view throughout is that of the currently privileged. I argue that those who possess the highest levels of opportunity within realms of social and political power tend to defend the status quo, even when suggesting or devising initiatives to supposedly level the playing field more fairly. Privileged actors, it seems, are culturally programmed to reinforce the same logics that prevent substantive change. This also means that our targets for 'better societies' tend to simply reinforce the same stratifications of opportunity that exist currently. Privileged actors not only need help understanding the ideas of the marginalized concerning more just societies, they also need to engage in what might seem like 'dystopian' effort (from our perspective) in order to actually strive for something more 'utopian' in the future. To help orient those wishing to be allies to the marginalized, I examine various accounts of alternate futures, explaining how those challenge our default ways of understanding the world. These, in turn, should motivate the privilege to ask for help (from the marginalized) in order to understand them, a request the latter must answer if processual utopia is the goal of all concerned. This highlights what I call an 'ethical minefield' that highlights divisive issues we can observe in our current socio-cultural moment. I end with an analysis of both tragedy and dystopian fiction, arguing that a sense of mutual vulnerability is needed for an actor to pursue processual utopia.

La Révolution de 1979 a provoqué en Iran une vague de méfiance à l’égard des autres pays et l’hostilité envers les États-Unis a mis le pays dans une position conflictuelle avec le monde occidental. Avec l’affaire de la prise d’otages en novembre 1979, les relations entre l’Iran, les États-Unis et l’Europe ont été coupées. Tout cela n’a pas été sans conséquences sur la conservation du patrimoine culturel : si Persépolis a échappé à la destruction, en revanche le mausolée de Reza Shah a été complétement détruit par les révolutionnaires. Cependant des démarches effectuées par les spécialistes eurent pour résultat l’enregistrement pour la première fois de trois monuments historiques de l’Iran sur la liste du patrimoine mondial : Tchogha Zanbil près de Suse, Persépolis dans la province de Fars et la place de Naghsh-e-Jahan à Ispahan. Malheureusement, le déclenchement subit de la guerre avec l’Irak n’a pas laissé le temps de mettre en place les mesures de protection et pendant huit ans les sites et les monuments historiques de l’Iran ont subi quantité de dégâts.Après la guerre, jusqu’en 1997, le gouvernement de M. Rafsandjani entreprit de relever les ruines résultant de « la Guerre Imposée ». Mais l’inflation, qui pourtant ne fut à aucun moment supérieure à ce qu’elle avait été pendant « l’époque de la Construction », entraîna peu à peu la dépréciation de la monnaie et l’augmentation des inégalités sociales. Cette situation, qui empira jusqu’au gouvernement de M. Rohani, fit qu’on porta moins d’attention au patrimoine culturel. En fait, après la Révolution de 1979, les biens du patrimoine culturel de l’Iran ont été répartis en deux groupes : ceux qui pouvaient être considérés comme le patrimoine religieux, et ceux qui, antérieurs à la conquête musulmane de la Perse, n’avaient aucun rapport avec la spiritualité musulmane chiite. Les investissements pour la restauration et la protection des monuments du premier groupe n’ont été faits que pour propager le chiisme et dans le but d’influencer de plus en plus l’opinion publique, déjà sensible à la question de la religion et aux miracles des imams chiites. Cependant, bien qu’appartenant à ce groupe, certaines mosquées historiques et des caravansérails n’intéressent pas les organismes culturels du pays, du fait de leur faible rentabilité. En soi, la meilleure solution pour réaliser les plans de sauvegarde des monuments historiques serait la participation de la population, mais l’étude du lien entre la société et le gouvernement montre qu’une telle coopération dépasse largement le seul domaine culturel et prend aujourd’hui en Iran un sens politique. / The Revolution of 1979 in Iran leaded to a wave of distrust of the other lands and to hostility towards the United States. It put the land also into a situation of confrontation with western world. The hostage-taking in November 1979 resulted in a breakup of relations between Iran, the United States and Europe. All of this has not been without effect on the heritage conversations.If Persepolis escaped the destruction, but Reza Shah’s Mausoleum was completely demolished by revolutionists. However the employment of specialists had an outcome, that for the first time three historical monuments of Iran were put on the list of UNESCO-world heritage site: Tchogha Zanbil near Susa, Persepolis in Fars-province and Naghsh-e Jahan Square (world-image) in Esfahan. Unfortunately the sudden outbreak of war with Iraq allowed no time for protection-sanction and for 8 years the historical cities and monuments of Iran have been much more damaged.After the war, the government of Akbar Rafsanjani committed to rebuild the ruins resulted by imposed war. But never higher as “period of construction”, the inflation leaded gradually to a currency debasement, also to an increase in social inequality. Got worse till 11. government, this situation made the people pay less attention to cultural heritage.After the revolution of 1979, the cultural goods of Iran were separated into two groups, on the one hand, the ones regarded as religious heritage and on the other hand, the ones built before the Muslims’ conquest with no deal with shiitic spirituality. The investment for protection of monuments in the first group aimed to dissemination of Shiism thus the public opinion, which has already been sensitive to the religion issues and the miracle of shiitic imams, should be influenced. But a few historical mosques and caravansaries belonged to this group, due to its low profitability didn’t interest the culture-organization.The best solution to ensure the preservation of historical monuments should be the involvement of population. However the investigations of the relation between society and government showed, that such a cooperation goes far beyond the cultural field and has a political meaning in society.