In the corridors of publishing, one hears evoked -- for badly dissimulated commercial reasons -- questions of the heritage and legitimacy concerning Debord and his oeuvre. There is no problem with Debord's heritage. There is only a Debord problem. More than ever, one knows to what extent he inconvenienced and prevented from dancing in circles all of the superannuated negationists-Stalinists, all of the neo-thinkers-of-(correctly)-revised-politics and a handful of repented Leftists.
But there is nothing to make bear fruit, rehabilitate, embellish or falsify. In the end, there is only Debord, his art and his times such as he revealed them, and this is obviously much more than all these people can stand.
As for those -- very few -- who actually found themselves on his route at one moment or another,[1] one has indeed seen how they have continued alone and what they have become. They know him better than anyone and prefer to make him forgotten. If one still speaks of them, it is naturally thanks to Debord and not the reverse. There are no inheritors. It is Debord who must inherit Debord. We will see to it.
Alice Debord,[2] Patrick Mosconi[3][1] The other members of the Situationist International.
[2] Alice Becker-Ho, Debord's widow.
[3] A writer of detective stories and TV programmes.
(Published in Le Monde, 1 November 1996. Translated from the French by NOT BORED! August 2007. Footnotes by the translator.)