One of the most famous social theorists-cum-activists of the contemporary era, Pierre Bourdieu, noted that social science is “a fighting sport.”
In his political writings (published as a collection in 2010) and in the 2001 documentary film, both called “Sociology is a Martial Art,” Bourdieu – with a lucidity uncharacteristic of his often impenetrable academic prose – demonstrated how social science can be a principled “means of self-defense” as well as a tool for the defense of ideas, positions, and populations dominated or silenced by asymmetrical power relations. In both his theoretical contributions and his political activism, Bourdieu demonstrated how combat is as much or more about critical cognition as it is about brute force. And like the martial arts, social science requires years of training, discipline, and the willingness to get your ass kicked and your ego – if not your face – battered and bruised. This point was beautifully illustrated (if not explicitly theorized) by one of Bourdieu’s students and collaborators, Loïc Wacquant, who not only to wrote about the structural conditions that motivate poor and working class men to pursue boxing as a vocation but himself trained in pugilism long before he ever got around to studying it.[1]
The Blogtagon is an ideal setting in which to meditate on Bourdieu’s metaphor of social science as martial art. One of the reasons why I love martial arts in general and MMA in particular is the richness of this metaphorical parallel. Of course, not all social science can be likened to a combat sport; it’s hard to imagine that ethnographers of, say, cheese-making or Native American beadwork would find the metaphor relevant let alone exciting. But for those of us who study the dynamics of conflict, violence, militarism and power broadly defined, being intellectually fit and always fight-ready is a requirement. Not only must we work at understanding the cultural, historical and structural conditions that precipitate violent conflict, but we are often called upon - or otherwise compelled on principle - to stake a position on issues that are contentious at best and, at worst, matters of life and death. As Bourdieu noted in a 1996 interview in Greece, “The intellectual can no longer be just a voice of critical conscience, seeking to assert within the political world the truths and values that prevail in his or her universe. He or she must also bring a genuine specific competence into the service of the causes he or she wishes to defend.”[2]
Bourdieu’s own career began with his analysis of the mundane and symbolic forms of domination among the Kabyle people of Algeria. His fieldwork was done under difficult conditions – the Algerian war of liberation was on – and Bourdieu was shifting focus from material and economic forms of exploitation to examine how inequalities and oppression (of women, of poorer classes, of youth) were woven into the taken-for-granted warp and woof of everyday life. This no doubt made him unpopular among both the left and the right. The AFLN, as Marxist-Leninists, were emphasizing political-economic, materialist exploitation, while conservative elites were interested in having neither the material nor symbolic dimensions that enabled their power, wealth, or prestige identified and critiqued (let alone dismantled – which is, of course, much more likely once people have begun to notice these things). Bourdieu thus describes how he “learned his craft” of social science in the midst of the Algerian war and how analyzing symbolic domination was tantamount to declaring intellectual war. In Algeria, he found “that intellectual rivalries could, when the occasion presented itself, take the most violent forms,” and in 1968 he actually went into hiding as a result of being blacklisted in Algeria.[3]
While comparing myself to Pierre Bourdieu would be immodest (ridiculous, actually) I understand and embrace the notion of anthropology as a combat sport. Studying conflict, war, domination, militarism, forced migration and political struggle generally and intervening where possible to ameliorate the impacts on actual people – not to mention pursuing academia as a vocation - requires an iron constitution, a fighting spirit ruled first and foremost by the mind, and an outlet or two for expressing stress and frustration. Structured combat sports like boxing and MMA are appealing for the way they channel and make sense of aggressive, competitive impulses while stopping far short of the horror and trauma of war or political violence. Whether one trains in these sports or simply spectates, they are nonetheless symbolically appealing. As Bourdieu would have agreed (I dare say), along with many other canonical anthropologists, from Levi-Strauss to Turner to Geertz to the Comaroffs, this symbolic dimension is essential to human thought and action. Through metaphors and symbols that tweak and channel our emotions and other bodily senses we make our worlds coherent and are enabled, even motivated, to act.
I study, among other things, the impact and experiential dimensions of war and political violence on multiple generations of people from the northeast African country of Eritrea, which also happens to be one of the most militarized countries in the world and one of the most ardently nationalistic. It’s nasty and contentious business, to be perfectly candid, and often depressing to boot, even though I have come to know some wonderful and inspiring individuals and organized groups. Despite the protracted suffering and dislocation that has affected virtually everyone, some people have nonetheless benefited and therefore fiercely defend – “revere” is not too strong a word - the policies and practices of the government. These policies and practices have destroyed the lives of many others, however, especially young people serving compulsory military duty. They have also led to some of the highest refugee flows in the world. I know these stories very intimately. I’ve spent countless hours in the company of the people who lived them, some of whom think critically about them and some of whom can barely think at all thanks to the militarization of education and obliteration of free thought. Despite whatever defense might be mounted by government supporters there is simply no justification for the extent of abuse, torture, and repression precipitated in the name of sovereignty, patriotism, or national security. This is true for every country, including the United States. It’s a principled position that must be defended everywhere with no apologies.
Having once been heroes of a liberation war and architects of a social revolution that contained very progressive elements (as well repressive ones, unfortunately), the government is adept at tapping into the symbolic and material needs, desires, and interests of various strands of its population. By tweaking symbols and emotions associated with patriotism, national belonging, xenophobia, fear, shame, hatred of "enemies" internal and external, the pain of exclusion or marginality, and left-wing righteous indignation at the exploitation and manipulation of poor and developing nations by rich and powerful ones, ruling elites in Eritrea are able to maintain political and economic support while debilitating the critical faculties of otherwise intelligent people. Most useful are the first and second generations of Eritreans who live in places like the US and Canada. Removed from the daily practice of repressive, militarized governance in the home country and presented with powerful symbols and potential material benefits (a sense of belonging, a nice piece of land in one’s home village, the ability to come and go freely), as well as a compelling narrative on the hypocrisy of the so-called free and democratic West, Eritreans who fled the country during the liberation war are a wellspring of political and economic support for the ruling regime. Their kids are even more promising. Now in their teens through thirties, many Western-born and raised Eritreans take great pride in the success, sacrifice, heroism, and left-wing rebel orientation of the freedom-fighters-turned government (as well they should, in some important sense). But they are unable (unwilling?) to easily access the quotidian reality in Eritrea, even when they go “back home” to visit, because elites have created an elaborate Disneyland version of the home country complete with parades, festivals, cultural expos and orchestrated trips to the Sawa military training facility where visiting youth can literally pretend to be the next generation of “freedom fighters” without having to sacrifice or endure much of anything.[4]
The performance of militaristic Eritrean values coincides powerfully with similarly militaristic values promoted in Western contexts, but the Eritrean version taps into a nationalist pride and belonging that is often denied to young people of African and refugee origin in places like the US and Canada. The “free” access to militarized higher education and ubiquitous government-run development projects carried out by military conscript labor in Eritrea appear not as repressive techniques or human rights abuses to these diaspora people, but as examples of a successful revolution in which ever-mobilized masses take part through sacrifice and hard work. Those who run away – the refugees now pouring out of the country because of the real, lived effects of these policies and practices – are cast as “traitors” who have embraced Westernized, individualistic values (or, in more paranoid terms, been seduced by the CIA). The twists of irony are painful, deep and diabolical. I scarcely need excavate them further, but suffice it to say it’s the left-leaning, socially liberal denizens of Western countries who support the authoritarianism and lack of justice and freedom in Eritrea because to them it represents the forms of freedom and justice lacking in the West. They would rather witness the sacrifice of thousands of their compatriots than rethink this “imagined community” cynically conjured by elites. Such political (il)logic is hardly unique to Eritrea and Eritreans, though the most nationalistic would never notice let alone admit it because nationalist logic trades in exceptionalism rather than contexts and comparisons.
Pointing out these diabolical ironies is equally painful and perilous for the social scientist. I myself am blacklisted in Eritrea, just as Bourdieu was in Algeria in the late 60s. Every time I write something on Eritrea (including this blog) I must prepare for an attack. One of the more recent ones actually came not from an Eritrean but from an American living in Eritrea who responded with vitriol to my analysis (published in Counterpunch – note the pugilistic title of the publication!) of the Eritrean refugee crisis and its political-economic underpinnings. [5] We’ll leave aside the fact that the analysis wasn’t so much about Eritrea as it was about the failures of international humanitarian responses and forced migration policies. The “last white man living in Eritrea,” as he calls himself, found my work objectionable because it critiqued the material and symbolic forms of domination that militarized nationalism embodies and the lived effects on actual people forced to flee the country. As a person with a left-wing political orientation and possessing at least mid-range intelligence and critical thinking skills (evidenced not in his shrill and inarticulate emails to me but in some pieces he published as a self-styled independent journalist) this man’s inability to cognitively penetrate the reality in which he claimed to be immersed was striking. It was a testament to the power of the government to create multiple projections of itself for the consumption of various targets – in this case, that of a sympathetic white American living in Eritrea. I would speculate that his response was also born of material and physical necessity, just as it was evidence of how coercion is operationalized through consent. Certainly, the “last white man in Eritrea” would no longer be permitted to remain there should he do anything but defend the regime; he would no longer “belong,” just as those Eritreans who resist or raise critical objections are exiled physically and symbolically. The manipulation of politics through symbolic and emotional means works very well indeed; it displaces and redirects the capacity of those who might otherwise object by offering them apparently irresistible rewards.
My response to the attack was one of Bruce Lee’s “fighting without fighting.” I chose not to engage. Despite the urgings of others to give ‘em hell, I refused to allow this pugnacious opponent to draw me in. The reason? He was a poorly trained, unfit dirty boxer backed by thugs and in violation of all the rules of acceptable engagement. By appealing to the phantasmagoric construction of a free and socially just Eritrea in which he (personally) lived unmolested, he dismissed the experiences and the suffering of countless thousands of others with fewer choices and far less privilege than he. By cozying up to a dictatorship and claiming his own concessions as matters of principle and his individual experience as an authoritative reflection of some common reality, he violated every form of human, ethical, intellectual and political integrity conceivable. (He also contacted virtually everyone on my CV, the head of my academic department, and the Chancellor of the university where I teach to accuse me of “failure of due diligence” in my research - largely, it seemed, because I hadn’t asked him his opinion). He simply wasn’t a worthy opponent. Besides, I subscribe to Bourdieu’s position that social science, whatever else it might be, is not a tool for the elite to validate their actions. And therein lies the reason why I find most hysterical nationalists and defenders of militant nationalism - of any variety - unworthy opponents to engage directly. They are not equipped for confrontations that take place according to logic, rationality, reason, evidence, critical thought, compassion, and an open exchange of ideas. They neither respect nor observe these rules.
And so they don’t get to play in my Blogtagon. Strapping on the gloves and going a few rounds of Muay Thai? Now maybe that would work out better for all of us.
[1] Wacquant, Loïc J.D.. 1995. “The Puglistic Point of View: How Boxers Think and Feel About Their Trade.” Theory and Society 24:4, pp. 489-535.
[2] Sapiro, Gisele, ed. 2010. Sociology is a Martial Art: Political Writings by Pierre Bourdieu. New York: The New Press. p. 258
[3] Sociology is a Martial Art, p. 266
[4] I am indebted to my brilliant young protégé, ST (you know who you are), for these ideas and insights.
[5] http://www.counterpunch.org/2011/04/22/human-tsunamis/
