Archives de Tag: Colonialisme

« Aux colonies, l’infrastructure économique est également une superstructure. La cause est conséquence : on est riche parce que blanc, on est blanc parce que riche. C’est pourquoi les analyses marxistes doivent toujours être distendues chaque fois que l’on aborde le problème colonial. « 
– Frantz Fanon, Les Damnés de la terre.

(via sultangaliev)

It is important to stress, in this context, that anti-witchcraft movements only began in Africa in the colonial period, in conjunction with the introduction of cash economies that profoundly changed social relations. creating new forms of inequality. (3) Prior to colonization, “witches” were at times punished but rarely killed; in fact, it is even questionable whether we can speak of ‘witchcraft,’ when referring to pre-colonial times, since the term was not used until the coming of the Europeans.
It was in the 1980s and 1990s that —together with the debt crisis, structural adjustment, currency devaluation— the fear of ‘witches’ became a dominant concern in many African communities, so much so that “even ethnic groups…who had no knowledge of witchcraft before colonial time today believe to have witches in their midst.” (Danfulani 2007: 181)
these witch-hunts are not a legacy of the past, but are a response to the social crisis that globalization and neo-liberal restructuring of Africa’s political economies have produced.

Silvia FEDERICI, Witch-Hunting, Globalization, and Feminist Solidarity in Africa Today p. 4

A parallel investigation of the two figures of whores and niqabées reveals the current exclusionary dynamics embedded in the nation-building process as both veiled women and prostitutes function as symbolic signifiers of national difference within the Republic. They are construed as “bodies-boundaries” within the larger new frontiers of the French Republic.50
In doing so, the French state echoes larger European trends. As Jasbir Puar and Judith Butler argue,51 new configurations of sexuality, race, gender, nation, class, and ethnicity are realigning in relation to contemporary forces of nationalism. In this reconfiguration, some feminists and different political factions instrumentalize sexual freedoms to assert Western exceptionalism, to define the preconditions of citizenship, and to shape the image of the ahistorical “other” trapped in barbarian monstrosity and bound to remain untouched by modernity. Those evolutions also reveal what Didier Fassin and Dominique Memmi have described as “the greater and deeper targeting, by policies, of the private relation that an individual holds with his physical destiny, but also the growing concern for issues related to bodies, health, and life [and we could add sexuality] in the government of societies.”52
The analysis of the political handling of these two figures highlights the specific use that is made of French republicanism. Some republican feminists support politicians in asserting that whores and niqabées are oppressed and blind to their own oppression. What is striking is that this coalition of some feminist discourses with the current political views actually re-enacts and re- enforces a virile version of nationalism. As McClintock puts it, “all too often in male nationalisms, gender difference between women and men serves to symbolically define the limits of national difference and power between men. Excluded from direct action as national citizens, women are subsumed symbolically into the national body politics as its boundary and metaphoric limit…. Women are typically construed as the symbolic bearers of the nation, but are denied any direct relation to national agency.”53 In contemporary France, gender differences are again used to define national boundaries: the rhetoric of the oppression of women, supported by the republican values of equality, freedom, and dignity and mobilized by the state with the complicity of some feminists, serve to exclude “other” women from the “imagined community.” In short, this rhetoric of oppression is the moral grammar that justifies the denial of women’s agency and full citizenship, and their exclusion from the public sphere. According to this view the French female citizen has to embody a sexuality that is neither commoditized, nor tightly controlled by an institution like religion or patriarchy. Sexuality, which has become a central component of identity in postmodern societies, is no longer left to individual self-governance: by identifying and excluding two sexualized figures of female citizens, the state also prescribes a new regime of sexual normativities—shaping a sexual citizenship—through a rigid and contradictory injunction to sexual freedom. Those exclusionary processes mark the installation of a gendered regime of visibility that defines and disciplines women’s appearance in the public domain. Like during colonial times, politicians target women’s bodies as national territories whose surface and appearance must be compatible with a set of state-defined recommendations. However, as we have suggested, the complicities of a certain feminist discourse with the political power rhetorically produce “visual victims” only to promote a larger political agenda, enforcing a virile nationalism, prescribing new sexual normativities, and criminalizing immigrants and those living at the social margins.

Billaud, Julie; Castro, Julie, “Whores and Niqabées: The Sexual Boundaries of French Nationalism”, in:  French Politics, Culture & Society, Volume 31, Number 2, Summer 2013 p. 97-98

Far from initiating a radical rupture with the past, recent developments can be read as a continuation of earlier colonial and national attempts at delineating the borders of the French territory and French society. Indeed, policies relating to both prostitution and veiling were important domains of state intervention in colonial Algeria. In his analysis of discourses articulated during the French colonial rule in Algeria, Bradford Vivian highlighted a concern with the need to preserve the unity of French territory through the assimilation of Algerian people and the removal of all distinctive signs (especially the veil) from the public domain.17 The public unveiling of Algerian women functioned as a symbolic reminder of the colonizers’ absolute superiority and sovereignty over the Algerian territory. According to Frantz Fanon: “Every new Algerian woman unveiled announced to the occupier an Algerian society whose systems of defense were in the process of dislocation, open and breached.”18 One way to exert domination was the sexual colonization of women, real or symbolic. Pointing to the prolific production of postcards showing unveiled Algerian women, Vivian underlines a mixture of exotic fascination and repulsion for Algerian women’s bodies escaping from the regulating gaze of the colonizer. Removing Algerian women’s veils, “the visible barrier to the establishment of French indivisibility,”19 became a central motive of the “civilizing mission.”20
Similarly, one of the first colonial moves in Algeria was to regulate prostitution. Christelle Taraud, in examining the implementation of regulationist policies in French North African colonies, shows how prostitution policies aimed also at colonizing indigenous women.21 Those policies relied on the legalization of a status, on the structuring of the “milieu” along the lines of class and race and on physical containment through the implementation of specialized and closed spaces. Those spaces had to be immediately accessible to the gaze of colonial authorities, as the father of French regulationism Parent- Duchâtelet had specified. By enclosing women and relegating them to the margins of colonial cities, legislators and administrators aimed at regulating contact not only between classes but also between races. In other words, while visual accessibility and control were also at the core of the regulationist project in metropolitan France, policies that aimed to regulate prostitution in the colonies also served an important function within the wider colonial project. Taraud also highlights that this margin of the colonial society—prostitution— made possible a real colonial encounter with all of its attendant conflicts and ambiguities. A double system of cultural references prevailed in the spaces devoted to prostitution, the one of the colonizers and the one of the colonized. The hybridization that took place was of course sexual, but also social, linguistic, aesthetic, and religious. Prostitutes were border-individuals, belonging to different communities (Jews, Muslims, Europeans) and embodying the existing links and hybridization processes between those communities. During the periods immediately preceding and succeeding the independence of North African French colonies, nationalist movements strived to make those spaces disappear. A virile version of universalist nationalism prevailed, firmly rejecting this counter-society that embodied the reality of a colonial encounter.
This historical retrospective helps us trace the historicity of recent policies applied to veiled Muslim women and sex workers, while underlining some thematic continuities in debates dealing with women’s bodies in the postcolonial present. Now, like before, the manipulation of national sentiments serves as a means to divert attention from more pressing social issues. It is not by chance that prostitution and veiling were discussed within the frameworks of internal security and national identity at a moment when the government was facing rising discontent related to the economic crisis. Indeed, prostitutes and Muslim women were easy scapegoats whose exclusion from the “imagined community” 22 served as a placebo solution to answer the need for national unity in a context of growing economic and social tensions. The French state made it a point of honour to get back the “lost territories of the Republic”23 using the argument that veiling and prostitution are practices that threaten the integrity of the nation as well as republican values. What these different debates reveal is the consolidation of a form of gendered policy through which a certain narrative of French citizenship that builds upon a system of difference and belonging strengthens prescriptions of permissible feminine bodies.24 The flagging of the divisional threat that veiled women and prostitutes were supposed to represent drew from an implicit theory of visibility (citizenship is tied to the visibility of the face) and from a peremptory vision of domination (veiled women and prostitutes are oppressed materially and psychologically).

Billaud, Julie; Castro, Julie, “Whores and Niqabées: The Sexual Boundaries of French Nationalism”, in:  French Politics, Culture & Society, Volume 31, Number 2, Summer 2013 , pp. 87-89