It is 1959. The fifth year of the Algerian Revolution. The fifth year of
what others would rather call the Algerian War – perhaps as a means to detract
from the gravity of the event. This is a Revolution. This is a mass struggle by
a people who will not settle for anything less than a new society. This is a
tug-of-war between the defenders of a colonial outpost and the Algerian people
who say, “no more”.
Frantz Fanon may be living in Tunisia, but his actions and his thoughts are
still fully immersed in its troubled neighbour to the east. Fanon is the
multi-tasking activist: a writer, a psychiatrist, and the FLN ambassador. He
socialises and dines in the cosmopolitan circles of Tunis (Cherki, 2006). In
the face of emerging controversies and power struggles in the FLN, Fanon still
remains unwaveringly committed to its pursuit of an independent Algeria
(Cherki, 2006). His name is now recognisable and associated with the Algerian
liberation struggle. Fanon’s influence and writing are seen as a threat to
colonialism and a compromised independence. In 1959, the seriousness of his threat
becomes abruptly evident. A car “accident” in Morocco and a car bomb in Rome are
both speculated as attempts on his life (Cherki, 2006). It was under these
circumstances that Fanon wrote L’An Cinq,
de la Revolution Algerienne (later published in English as Studies in a Dying Colonialism).
Although “wrote” is an inappropriate verb, considering what it means and
implies – a solitary author, pen in hand, hunched over a desk, confined to a
world of notes. Fanon dictated L’An Cinq,
much like he dictated his other works. The book came into being between travels,
activism and death threats – nothing paused for its creation. L’An Cinq is a book shaped by Fanon’s experiences
in Bilda and his regular interactions with Algerian refugees in Tunis (Cherki,
2006). It is a book that uncovers the daily intricacies of the Algerian
Revolution, of the people who were its lifeblood. It is a book about agency and
dynamism under the conditions of a liberation struggle. A theme that emerges
continuously throughout A Dying
Colonialism is the transformative qualities of revolution - particularly the
through the appropriation of colonial symbols and the challenge to traditional
hierarchies.
Transformation of “things”
“It is the necessities of combat that give rise in Algerian society to new
attitudes, to new modes of action, to new ways” (Fanon, 1965: 64).
The Algerian Revolution, much like other mass struggles, became
intertwined with the everyday. Every day and every action was framed within the
context of the revolution, of achieving an independent and liberated Algeria.
Throughout the book, Fanon shows how the Revolution is associated with
transformation of society. The Revolution is depicted as a period of dynamism
and change, affecting even the most historically entrenched aspects of Algerian
culture. In A Dying Colonialism, the demands
and peculiarities of a Revolution are shown to not only transform people and
society, but a transform things: the attitude toward them and the meanings
attached to them.
The unveiling of the Algerian women was historically part of a colonial
project to get to the heart of Algerian society and culture, to win a cultural
battle and affirm the righteousness of western values and society. The veiled
woman was a “victim”, passive and marginalised and the veil symbolised her
imprisonment within Algerian society. Her “unveiling” was, according to the
coloniser, a sign of liberty and modernity – a sign of her independence and
equality, for her own good. Of course, this is what was said. More significantly,
however, the unveiling represented the affirmation of a colonial system (Fanon,
1965: 42). “The occupier’s aggressiveness, and hence his hopes, multiplied
ten-fold each time a new face was uncovered” (Fanon, 1965: 42). The colonial
obsession with unveiling invoked a firmer defence of the veil (Fanon, 1965: 47).
The veil was not just a “thing”, it was a thing attached to a culture and a
people who were under siege. “Unveiling” was not a simple preference of women; it
was conforming to a society that tortured their sons.
The role of the veil and unveiling transformed with the Revolution (Fanon,
1965: 47). The urgency and gravity of the Revolution necessitates and inspires
the involvement of women. The woman is an unsuspecting participant in the movement
of arms and intelligence in the city – she is even more unsuspecting when she
is not wearing her veil. The “modern” Algerian woman in the city, head held
high and striding confidently – she is a woman who welcomes “modernity” and
“progress”; of course she is not a revolutionary. The symbol of “unveiling” is transformed.
It is appropriated by the colonized in the interests of the Revolution. It
becomes a tool for a true liberation. But then colonial authorities soon
discover the ploy. The Revolution is a period of dynamism, shifting and
adaptive, so the veil is simply reassumed (Fanon, 1965: 62). The middle-aged,
veiled, Algerian fatma, shuffling in
the street - she is a timid woman, who doesn’t dabble in political affairs; of
course she is not a revolutionary. At the height of the Revolution an
aggressive display “westernisation” of the Algerian women ensued, with the
vulnerable being symbolically unveiled in public (Fanon, 1965: 62). The veil
was resumed with even more resolve (Fanon, 1965: 63). Unveiling and veiling
were symbols appropriated, adapted and transformed under the conditions of the
Revolution. Fanon also shows how the radio, once the voice of oppressive
culture, soon became a symbol of hope.
“Gone were the days when mechanically switching on
the radio amounted to an invitation to the enemy. For the Algerian, the radio,
as a technique, became transformed. The radio set was no longer directly and
solely tuned in on the occupier” (Fanon, 1965: 95).
The radio represented a cultural assurance for the settler, a familiar voice,
conveying a familiar set of values – a link to Frenchness. In contrast, most
Algerians saw the radio as an affront. The programmes were not cognisant of
Algerian cultural sensitivities, and used the language of the oppressor (Fanon,
1965: 70). The radio was transformed under the conditions of the Revolution. As
the struggle intensified, the local colonial authorities increasingly monopolised
the “truth” (Fanon, 1965: 77). The local media only reported the deaths of
insurgent combatants or foiled attacks, while whispers from the djebel (mountains) shared encroaching
successes. This is where the role of the radio was transformed – the radio was
liberated by The Voice of Algeria.
The Algerian people and the liberation struggle appropriated the radio. Radio
purchases surged as the people looked to satisfy their thirst for the truth. The Voice of Algeria, even when reduced
to mere static by colonial authorities, served as an invigoration of hope, a
sign of progress, a call for continued action (Fanon, 1965: 86). The radio was
transformed into a revolutionary tool.
Like the radio, Fanon shows how Western medicine and the doctor were also unrelenting
symbols of colonialism. To acknowledge the benefits and value of Western
medicine was seen by the coloniser as an affirmation of the “benefits” of
colonial rule (Fanon, 1965: 122). The European doctor was not the neutral
caregiver – he was more often than not a settler who dabbled in farming outside
of his practise, and who had a vested interest in maintaining colonial rule. In
many instances he, or his colleagues, may have colluded with police, given
false physical assessments, or helped a patient recover only to face a new bout
of torture (Fanon, 1965: 137). Medicine and the doctor were a symbol of
colonialism. But then there was the transformation. When the fierce struggles
of the Revolution were leading to widespread civilian and soldier injuries –
the authorities placed strict restrictions on access to medical care. Under
these circumstances the FLN met with Algerian doctors, and the doctors and
their medicine became an indispensable part of the struggle. “He was no longer
‘the’ doctor, but “our” doctor, ‘our’ technician” (Fanon, 1965: 142). These
symbols were now removed from the colonial framework, and instead became
oppositional to it.
It was not the intrinsic value of the thing itself that was rejected, but
the association of the thing, the location of the thing within a greater system
of oppression. These were “colonial” things. Fanon shows how the rejection of the
radio and medicine were not, as some sociologists or anthropologists had said, due
to the irrationality of a traditional society, a society fearful of technology.
Instead, these rejections were often explicit political decisions. Under the
Revolution, these symbols were transformed and appropriated – relocated to
another framework. The “things” became theirs. These were decisions by people
who had taken their destiny into their own hands (Fanon, 1965:145).
Transformation of
society
“I am my own foundation. And it is by going beyond the historical and
instrumental given that I initiate my cycle of freedom” – Fanon, Black Skins White Masks.
In A Dying Colonialism, Fanon illustrates
the adaptive nature of Algerian society and the agency of the Algerian. This
challenged many a colonial discourse about the static and unwavering nature of
the societies and cultures of the “colonised”, of the passive Algerian who is a
victim of his circumstance. In the interest of an alternative society, in the
interest of the struggle, Algerian society undergoes a dramatic transformation.
Fanon explores this transformation, particularly at the level of the Algerian
family.
As discussed earlier, the role of women was transformed under the
circumstances of the Revolution – she was as immersed in the struggle as her
husband or her brother. The traditional sexual hierarchy was unseated as women
joined the maquis in droves. Men’s
views and behaviour towards women was shaped by these changes. “The men’s words
were no longer law. The women were no longer silent” (Fanon, 1965: 109). It
started at the level of the family, with the revolutionary daughter who stared
unwaveringly at her father’s eyes when they spoke (Fanon, 1965: 106). The
traditional age-based hierarchy between brothers also changed – the cell leader
may have been your younger brother, but this did not undermine his authority
(Fanon, 1965: 110). Perhaps most intriguing was the change to the traditions of
marriage. The traditional familial “contract” of marriage was no longer
feasible under the context of a Revolution (Fanon, 1965: 114). Love in time of
the maquis meant that marriage had to
adapt to the circumstances. The rest of society felt this shift. The Revolution
had engulfed and transformed the everyday, challenging some of Algerian
societies most entrenched social hierarchies. The historical and cultural ties
did not limit the Algerian – he initiated his own “cycle of freedom.” The transformation of Algerian society is an
active choice – under the circumstances of the Revolution, the Algerian chooses
an alternative society.
“…The people
come to realise that if they wished to bring a new world to birth they would
have to create a new Algerian society from top to bottom. In order to fulfil
his aspirations, the Algerian must adapt himself at an exceptional pace to his
new situation” (Fanon, 1965: 101).
In A Dying Colonialism, Fanon
illustrates the creative and transformative potential of the Algerian
Revolution. By exploring the everyday of the Revolution, Fanon sheds light on
the politicisation of things, of actions and of culture. The imposing colonial
“thing” is appropriated and liberated, and society’s traditional hierarchy is
challenged and unsettled. Although, at the time, Fanon thought that these
transformations were “irreversible”, the progression of independent Algeria
countered some of these claims. But this is not to say that anything should be
taken away from this text, as Cherki (2006:138) says, “Fanon was not a prophet”.
Perhaps what this book shows most clearly, what will continue to have universal
resonance, is that the Revolution, the liberation struggle, is as a period of
dynamism, of agency, and – above all, of positive, heightened transformation.
In the interest of nothing less than an alternative and free society, in the
midst of a struggle, the “colonised” society transforms.
Bibliography
Cherki, A., 2006, Frantz Fanon: A
Portrait. Cornell University Press: Ithaca & London.
Fanon, F., 1965, A Dying Colonialism.
Grove Press: New York.
Fanon, F., 1967, Black Skins, Whites Masks. Grove Press: New York.
