Written on 20th April 2024
Preamble: Another one of my essays for the same module - and gosh I love writing about Fanon. Encountered "Wretched of the Earth" when I was on exchange two years ago, but he's still stuck in my head haha. Honestly, I have no idea what I am yapping about when I write political theory, but its so fun regardless. Happy reading!
Introduction
Frantz Fanon is a seminal figure in the field of decolonisation, racism, and violence, and is perhaps most well-known for his work “The Wretched of the Earth”. In this text, he discusses the failures of western models of political transformation and cautions against a wholesale grounding in them. Notably, there are five critical points of contention: (1) the models’ prejudiced moral assumptions, (2) its misplaced reformist agenda, (3) its underestimation of the masses, (4) its reductionist approach, and (5) plainly that it is a proven failure. These various critiques reflect Fanon’s fundamental belief that decolonial projects are not simply a functional end of colonial rule, but rather one which allows individuals to create their self-identity and reimagine the entire political order.
Prejudiced Conception of Morality
For Fanon, the Western conception of morality stigmatises what is needed for meaningful social change: violence. This is perhaps the most important formulation, as it informs his following critiques. In western models, violence has no productive role in society, and any who relies on violence is corrupted. Take for example, the Hobbesian view that reveres security and a lack of violence, a thing to be assured at any and all cost. Yet, for Fanon, it is exactly this one-sided condemnation in the name of morality that is itself unethical, because it legitimises the status quo, and in this case, favours the colonizer in power. A scholar on Fanon sums this up, “any attempt by the colonized to change the status quo of the colonizer hints at a form of future violence seeking retribution.” (Roberts 144).
Fanon lays this necessity of violence in his famous opening statement of the book, “National liberation, national reawakening, restoration of the nation to the people or Commonwealth, whatever the name used, whatever the latest expression, decolonization is always a violent event.” (1). This assertion of necessity is predicated on the fact that colonizers will never give up their power or authority willingly; they need to be compelled to do so, which will only happen when they are subject to violence, or at least its threat. Fanon writes, “colonialism is not a machine capable of thinking, a body endowed with reason. It is naked violence and only gives in when confronted with greater violence” (23).
Further, Fanon calls out the hypocrisy of Western morality. “Any number of speeches on human equality cannot mask the absurdity whereby seven Frenchmen killed or wounded in an ambush at the Sakamody pass sparks the indignation of civilized consciences, whereas the sacking of the Guergour douars, the Djerah dechra, and the massacre of the population behind the ambush count for nothing.” (Fanon 47). All talk then, of individual human rights, natural law, or violence as immorality, then, are completely hypocritical, as while western morality “never stops talking of man”, it “massacres him at every one of its street corners, at every corner of the world” (Fanon 235).
On the contrary, Fanon believes that for the colonised man, morality “quite plainly means silencing the arrogance of the colonizer, breaking his spiral of violence, in a word ejecting him outright from the picture” (Fanon 9). Violence is necessary for the colonised to liberate themselves as they finally confront the coloniser (Fanon 44). Only through the following independence do the colonised gain “moral reparation” and “dignity”, as “violence is a cleansing force” that “rids the colonized of their inferiority complex” (Fanon 40, 51).
Fanon continues that violence has an even more important function in the colonisation context: that it generates one’s self-identity. Violence is what allows “the ‘thing’ colonized [to] become a man” (Fanon 2). This is because before liberation, it is the colonizer who “fabricate[s] the colonized subject” (Fanon 2). The colonised are simply “a collection of individuals who owe their very existence to the presence of the colonizer” (Fanon 219-220). In this same process, the colonizer “derives his validity, i.e., his wealth, from the colonial system” (Fanon 2). As such, the coloniser places the colonised in a position of absolute antagonism in relation to them and denies them their very reality and form of existence, such as through a physical and mental demarcation of where they belong (Fanon 3). This compartmentalisation is neither harmonious nor complementary, “they follow the dictates of mutual exclusion: there is no conciliation possible, one of them is superfluous.” (Fanon 4). In other words, the affirmation of one is necessarily the negation of the other, and hence this absolute contradiction can only be overcome through violently overthrowing one of them. Through this performance of violence, those who “[lack] subjectivity… gain agency” and is provided “the route to self-determination and identity formation” (Nayar 84; Roberts 143). Hence, violence for Fanon is necessary to rebuild one’s self-worth independent of colonial influence.
As such, contrary to western models that demonises the use of violence, Fanon claims that it is an essential act in meaningful social change, not simply as a means for liberation, but also as a process of self-determination. Violence is thus the highest form of revolutionary praxis that is absolutely necessary, and even moral.
Misplaced Goals – Reformism v Revolution
For Fanon, decolonisation is necessarily a revolutionary process; the system cannot simply be reformed, such as through negotiation or compromise. This is because decolonisation is not just about liberation for its own sake, or a replacement of one ruler with another, but rather is concerned in constructing a completely new world which incorporates the population into the political order in a new way. This is an extension of Fanon’s point of the cleansing force of violence – now that the people have been psychologically freed, they can then “go on with more organised forms of violence, praxis, that are necessary for the building of a new, liberated society” (Gordon 71).
The western tendency for reformation is hence insufficient as it is likely to retain the same colonial structure and system which is fundamentally divisive and unequal. Fanon writes, “The intellectual who, for his part, has adopted the abstract, universal values of the colonizer is prepared to fight so that colonizer and colonized can live in peace in a new world. But what he does not see, because precisely colonialism and all its modes of thought have seeped into him, is that the colonizer is no longer interested in staying on and coexisting once the colonial context has disappeared” (9). He further criticises the colonial bourgeoisie in attempting to achieve negotiation and compromise with the colonisers (Fanon 23-25), and for focusing on electoral processes and “philosophic-political discourses” on rights and freedoms (Fanon 21-22), rather than genuine innovation of societal structures.
For example, true decolonisation necessitates a rejection of the existing capitalist structures that continues to perpetuate inequalities and dependencies of colonial rule (Fanon 13). Fanon believes that these capitalist structures are deeply intertwined with colonial exploitation and transfer of wealth to these colonising countries (Fanon 27). This exploitation can come in the form of “western models of ‘development’ that are imposed (through the nefarious Structural Adjustment Programs, trade embargoes and organizations such as the WTO) on formerly colonized nations.” (Nayar 91).
As such, we see that for Fanon, the focus of decolonisation cannot simply be an improvement or amelioration of the symptoms of colonialism, but rather a radical rethinking and restructuring of society, in genuine and novel ways.
Underestimation of the Masses
Western models are also flawed in their focus on drawing strength from the colonial proletariat, due to their underestimation of the peasantry. However, Fanon warns against such a direct import of ideas because the proletariat in the colonial context is vastly different from the metropolitan state – they are not the ‘wretched of the earth; in fact, they are few and relatively privileged, and have way too much to lose. As such, proletariats would often side with the colonials than the independence movement. Instead, the true source of revolution for Fanon lays clearly in the peasantry, who are yet routinely ignored by intellectuals. He writes, “it is obvious that in colonial countries only the peasantry is revolutionary. It has nothing to lose and everything to gain. The underprivileged and starving peasant is the exploited who very soon discovers that only violence pays. For him there is no compromise, no possibility of concession. Colonization or decolonization: it is simply a power struggle. The exploited realize that their liberation implies using every means available, and force is the first.” (Fanon 23).
Despite this, European models seem to denigrate peasantry as being unable to develop revolutionary consciousness, of being underdeveloped, backwards, and unconscious of the class divide. Fanon disagrees with such a critical view of the peasantry and argues that the countryside is the genuine source of revolutionary energy and sentiment. “Their ears hear the true voice of the country, and their eyes see the great and infinite misery of the people. They realize that precious time has been wasted on futile discussion about the colonial regime. They realize at last that change does not mean reform, that change does not mean improvement. Now possessed with a kind of vertigo they realize that the political unrest in the towns will always be powerless to change and overthrow the colonial regime.” (Fanon 23). Revolutionary struggle hence begins in the countryside and moves into the city, together with the lumped in proletariats such as the unemployed and criminals who live outside the circuits of society. As such, Fanon believes that western models of class stratification misidentify the actual agents of change, through their prejudiced view of the masses.
In a similar vein, Fanon adopts a much more positive conception of people’s capabilities in contributing to the political system following the liberation movement. He warns against the aristocratic assumptions of the western models, the “very Western, very bourgeois, and hence very disparaging, idea that the masses are incapable of governing themselves” (Fanon 130). Instead, the party should be “the organization whereby they, the people, exert their authority and will” (Fanon 128), “the direct expression of the masses”, and “the vigorous spokesperson and the incorruptible defender of the masses.” (Fanon 130). Instead of looking down on the capacities of the masses, Fanon believes that the basic assumption should be that the people are capable of being educated and grasping political issues, no matter how complex they are. It is crucial that we believe in their capacity of self-understanding through education, which should hence become a priority for political commissioners (Fanon 93). Indeed, without this change of core assumptions, we may fall into the trap of post-colonial dictatorship and one-party states (Fanon 72), as has been the case in many Global South countries. Their revolutionary leaders had incorrectly assumed people to be incapable of governing themselves, thus resorting to centralised apparatus of a party to exclude people ‘for their own good’. This is a clear underestimation of “the illiterate mass of men and women who… resisted the tank and planes, the napalm and the psychological warfare, but above all, the corruption and the brainwashing” (Fanon 130). Again, this points back to his consistent theme on how decolonisation is not simply liberation for liberation’s sake, but that it has to transition into a new society, where rulers educate but not govern, direct violence but not monopolise it. Otherwise, Fanon says, the government’s pessimistic outlook “towards the rural masses [would be] reminiscent… of the colonial power” (72), and they would have simply changed rulers but remained firmly in the system.
As such, for both during and after the liberation movement, Fanon invites us to question this particular assumption of western models and consider the crucial role that the common people play in revolutions, particularly in the colonial context.
Overly Reductionist Approach
Fanon also critiques Western models of political transformation to be overly reductive, applying their models to a wide range of decolonisation movements, without consideration for their specific cultural, historical, and social contexts. For Fanon, there is no logic of determination to liberation movements, and it cannot be articulated in something such as race or indigeneity as its basis. This is because such an articulation in itself would fall victim to the idea of division that sustains the colonial project. There is hence no way to homogenise all the various cultures that struggle against colonisation, and no specified technique that can be simply applied across colonies.
He writes, “There is no common destiny between the national cultures of Guinea and Senegal, but there is a common destiny between the nations of Guinea and Senegal dominated by the same French colonialism.” (Fanon 168). By this, he means that the only similarities between these peoples are their mutual difference from their colonisers – that is, that they are both not French. Hence, an arbitrary unity of these culturally distinct people is in itself a residue of colonisation, as only from the coloniser’s frame of reference are they one and the same.
Since there is no natural association of these peoples, then the technique of decolonisation and the process of liberation must be something authentically derived from the people’s own culture and history, rather than some standard template that had been effective elsewhere. As such, Fanon rejects the western tendency to impose simplistic and uniform views across decolonisation movements, rather than consider their specificity and subjectivity.
European Models are Proven Failures
Finally, Fanon insists against a Western grounding of political transformation, quite simply because they have failed, and will fail again. Europe is in itself in crisis, a “spirit built on strange foundations”, in “stasis”, and “teetering between atomic destruction and spiritual disintegration” (Fanon 235, 237). Even if it has achieved social productivity and is “bloated”, it did so only through enslaving and exploiting the vast majority of people (Fanon 58, 238). Fanon writes, “this European opulence is literally a scandal for it was built on the backs of slaves, it fed on the blood of slaves, and owes its very existence to the soil and subsoil of the underdeveloped world. Europe’s well-being progress were built with the sweat and corpses of blacks, Arabs, Indians, and Asians” (53). As such, the solutions to the problems of the world today cannot be resolved with reference to the already proven failures of Europe.
Indeed, Fanon writes almost humorously, “if we want to transform Africa into a new Europe, America into a new Europe, then let us entrust the destinies of our countries to the Europeans. They will do a better job than the best of us. But if we want humanity to take one step forward, if we want to take it to another level than the one where Europe has placed it, then we must innovate, we must be pioneers.” (239). In other words, if the goal is not the creation of a new world, a new political system and social relationships, then decolonisation is meaningless, and we might as well let Europe dictate it. Instead, “we must make a new start, develop a new way of thinking, and endeavour to create a new man” (Fanon 239).
This new beginning can only be done through a thorough a revolution of ideas and ground-up approaches, to find a system with completely different foundations. We have to “tense our muscles and our brains in a new direction”, in a way which “strengthen man’s totality” and requires “genuine inspiration” (Fanon 236). While Fanon does not provide a prescriptive answer to how this new society could look like, he is at least certain in one thing: that the current models will certainly be incapable of achieving these goals.
Conclusion
While Fanon’s work is often controversial and misunderstood as a slippery justification of the use of violence, he presents a compelling case of why it is valid in the unique context of decolonisation. His arguments dissect the inadequacies inherent in Western models of political transformation, and importantly centres upon a goal of not simply liberation, but a profound transformation of societies to come. As such, his incisive analysis certainly remains relevant today as a critical lens to evaluate both ongoing decolonisation projects, as well as the impact of past colonial legacies.
References
Fanon, Frantz. The Wretched of the Earth. 1961. New York, Grove Press, 2004.
Gordon, Lewis R. Fanon and the Crisis of European Man: An Essay on Philosophy and the Human Sciences. New York, Routledge, 1995.
Nayar, Pramod K. Frantz Fanon. New York, Routledge, 2013.
Roberts, Neil. “Fanon, Sartre, Violence, and Freedom.” Sartre Studies International, vol. 10, no. 2, 2004, pp. 139–160, www.jstor.org/stable/23512882.
Comments