Categorie: Column

  • The Communist and Their Rolex

    Imagine for a moment that you are a communist. One evening you arrive at one of your local communist organisation’s meetings, eager to quote Marx back and forth with your comrades until the sun rises. But then you see something that makes your heart sink; from underneath the cuff of a neatly ironed Brooks Brothers shirt appears what is unmistakably a Rolex watch. You feel your blood pressure rising. Feverishly your mind starts seeking for a quote from Marx, Lenin – hell, even Mao, to put this class traitor you once called comrade in their place for enjoying such bourgeois luxuries. The comrade, seeing you turn red in the face at the sight of their watch, turns to you and asks a simple question: When has Marx ever argued against wearing nice watches?

    If you are a communist, or, in fact, if you are slightly to the left of Margaret Thatcher, you will have undoubtably been accused of hypocrisy for enjoying certain luxuries. Although this argument is often made in relation to owning an iPhone or enjoying a Starbucks latte, one would imagine that a self-proclaimed communist wearing a ten-thousand-euro watch would raise some eyebrows. In fact, even many leftists who are otherwise unimpressed by right-wingers’ vague gesturing at imagined hypocrisy would probably be quite puzzled if you showed them your new Submariner or Yacht Master.

    However, is this a valid critique?

    The first argument levied against someone who wears a Rolex and a hammer and sickle pin at the same time would undoubtedly be that the money they’ve spent on a completely superfluous luxury could have been given to those who had much less money. After all, as a communist one ought to be opposed to the unequal distribution of wealth within the world, so why not share your own wealth? It is simple consistency: if you are for redistribution of wealth, start with redistributing your own. This argument, however, falls flat on its face when communism is critically analysed.

    Firstly, there are different forms of wealth. The wealth which a communist is most concerned with redistributing is the private property of the bourgeoisie, contrasted with the personal property of the individual. Private property refers to the means of production, such as factories or machines, whereas personal property is the things which you or I use in our personal lives. In other words, communists are far more concerned with someone’s watch factory than someone’s watch.

    Secondly, the argument of the communist is not that everyone distributes their goods and services unethically under capitalism; the argument is that the system by which we distribute goods and services is itself unethical. Yes, it is unethical that there are people who eat caviar and lobster whilst others only have bread and water, but this is not due to some inherent quality of the caviar or the lobster. This inequality comes to be because the money these people spend on the caviar and the lobster does not get divided over the workers who actually made that dinner possible. Instead of going to the fisher, chef, and waiter, the vast majority of this money goes to the man on Wall Street who owns the restaurant. Only after this man has been paid his profits are the wages of the workers considered. Because of this systematic inequality in capitalism, it does not matter whether one orders lobster or bread at a restaurant; there is no way an individual can consume their way out of the inequalities within capitalism. I will go as far as to say that the actions of the individual within the system are completely irrelevant. Even if every single person acted as ethically as possible, due to the mechanisms of capitalism inequality would still persist. It is therefore not on the individual, whether communist or not, to redistribute wealth; instead, the system by which we distribute wealth to begin with ought to be changed.

    The second argument for why it would be hypocritical to engage in luxuries as a communist would be that, even if a communist is not primarily interested in redistributing the wealth that individual workers have, it would still be better spent on charity than on luxury. Saving lives must obviously take priority over making one’s life more luxurious if one is to be consistent. I certainly think that any person, regardless of whether they are a communist or not, should weigh the ethics of spending money on their own lives with the reality that money can save or else greatly improve lives of others through charity. This ethical burden is, however, not exclusive to communists. A capitalist would have just as much responsibility in this, but their spending habits are not questioned.

    This moral question is, nonetheless, not the topic I want to discuss here. The point I want to make in this essay, instead, is this: if we are to apply this criterion of abstaining from luxury and do this consistently we would be creating a standard that no person could reasonably be expected to reach. If we state that the only way in which someone can be a communist and not be labelled a hypocrite (and have all their critiques of capitalism rendered moot along with that) is to completely abstain from engaging in whatever one might label ‘luxury’, then this would apply not just to Rolexes or Starbucks lattes, but to everything that isn’t bread, water, and shelter. This is because ‘luxury’ is a completely nebulous term. Ask a hundred people what constitutes luxury and you’ll receive two hundred different answers. One could see luxury as a state of great opulence and comfort, but that only begs the question what we compare this to. If we were to compare the standard of living of the average person in a western country today with the standard of living of that of a typical medieval citizen, we would rightfully have to conclude that we live in a state of great opulence. Even compared to many people alive today in the global south, we undoubtably live among many luxuries. Does an average western home not provide comforts that most people in human history could scarcely dream of? Is a communist a hypocrite for having central heating, electricity, and indoor plumbing? Must we check the contents of one’s fridge when they start talking about unionising, in case it contains more than the bare minimum needed to stay alive?

    Furthermore, communism never argues that people should only have the bare minimum. There have been plenty of communist theorists who have written on the need for luxury in people’s lives. As anarchist Peter Kropotkin states: “Would life, with all its inevitable sorrows, be worth living, if besides daily work man could never obtain a single pleasure according to his individual tastes?” (1906, 134). We find here an often misunderstood, whether willfully or otherwise, component of communist thought. The point of communism is to feed the starving, not take away food from those who have it in the name of equality. A communist is not a hypocrite if they enjoy luxuries that others can’t have under capitalism, even if they oppose this inequality. Their argument, after all, is that everyone should have these luxuries, not that no one should have them.

    Surely though, one cannot reasonably claim that every person can own a Rolex. Did the Marxist revolutionary Thomas Sankara not say: “We must choose either champagne for a few or safe drinking water for all” (Skinner 1988, 444)? How can I say that it is perfectly fine for a communist to be indulging themselves in all manner of bourgeois luxuries when, in the same breath, I would argue that the rich of the world must surrender their wealth for the sake of the rest of the world? This thinking, however, is too individualistic. Yes, we must choose between champagne for a few or safe drinking water for all; and yes, the safe drinking water for all is the only ethical and just choice. This does not mean that it is unethical or even hypocritical for me to drink champagne. As I have stated before, it is not the actions of individuals which communists take issue with, it is the system itself. The world for which I fight will come no closer whether I drink a bottle of champagne or if I were to donate the price of the bottle to charity. What would this standard for being a ‘sincere’ communist even be? That there is some magical threshold of wealth – conveniently placed above our own, of course – which turns an otherwise sincere and devout communist into a hypocritical petit bourgeois traitor of the working class? I do not believe so. What ultimately differentiates the working class from the bourgeoisie is not how much money one has but rather their relationship to the means of production. It is the class interests gained through this relationship that determines one’s place within capitalism. If a worker chooses to spend the money they acquired through their own labour on a nice watch, it would not make them one bit less of a communist than if they had spent it drinking on the weekend with friends, buying a new car, or donating it to charity. What matters is that they are dedicated to a future beyond capitalism.

    Ultimately the allegation of hypocrisy levied against communists is not unique. I imagine most climate activists have, at some point, had it pointed out to them that their existence also produces CO₂. It is easy to see why this argument is so seductive to make; once someone has been identified as a hypocrite, their arguments are no longer that threatening. Whether consciously or not, it is employed as a thought terminating cliché by those who do not want to critically analyse the assumptions they make about the world or those who do not want to have to defend the political positions they hold. That these allegations are not genuine critique becomes all too clear when we recognise the fact that there is no way to be a proper communist to people levying these allegations. If you are rich and a communist, you are called a hypocrite; if you are poor and a communist, you are called jealous. Any argument that can be levied against owning a Rolex can equally be applied to many other commodities which we consider normal for people to own. If we were to apply these arguments consistently, we would be creating a standard to which no person could reasonably be expected to adhere. Furthermore, the allegation of hypocrisy is, in and of itself, invalid considering there is no communist principle against owning any kind of luxury, not even that of a Rolex. What makes someone a communist is not the watch they wear; it is their revolutionary spirit, their hunger for justice, their belief that a better world is possible, their yearning for a life beyond capitalism. All of which can be held just as fervently by a communist wearing a Rolex.


    Bibliography

    Kropotkin, Peter. 1906. The Conquest of Bread. London: Chapman and Hall.

    Skinner, Elliott P. 1988. “Sankara and the Burkinabé Revolution: Charisma and Power, Local and External Dimensions.” The Journal of Modern African Studies 26, no. 3 (September): 437–55. http://www.jstor.org/stable/160892.

  • Dress to Impress: Communicating Knowledge and Power Through Fashion

    If he had not worn that borrowed blazer from Princeton University, Dickie Greenleaf would not be dead. In the movie The Talented Mr. Ripley (1999), Thomas Ripley fakes having attended Princeton to be accepted into the high society of New York. As part of his ruse, he flies out to Italy to visit Dickie Greenleaf, a true bon vivant living his life partying. Trying to survive in the world of the rich and pretty, Ripley has to adapt by wearing the clothes worn by high society. After rising suspicions from Greenleaf’s side, they get into a fight and Ripley kills Greenleaf. Based on the book with the same title (1955), the story follows a con-artist who desperately yearns to be part of the upper class and uses clothes to uphold his scheme. Similarly, earlier this year, the ‘old money style’ trend reemerged, with people attempting to emulate the fashion choices of the contemporary upper class. This essay entails a discussion of class distinction through clothing.

    We will argue that clothes can be used as a means of communication, transmitting knowledge about status, belonging or political statements. After explaining the term ‘old money style’, we will speculate that the style (re)gained popularity earlier this year, because its conservative roots give safety and its classic, basic look is in line with the demands for a more timeless wardrobe in the face of a climate crisis. Giving an outline of the theory of proletarianization from Marx and Engels, and adding to it with Stiegler’s notion of lack of knowledge, we will combine this theory with fashion. Firstly, clothing is used as a class distinction, shown in the example of the ‘old money style’ trend and the more concrete example of the ‘suit’ apparel. Secondly, in contrast to the desire of dressing like the upper classes, dressing in opposition to them as a political statement is explained with the example of Black people and their reclaiming of ‘Hip Hop culture’ from those who have devalued or appropriated it. Hereby the problematic, ignorant use and capitalization on the Hip Hop ‘style’ by white brands is highlighted, because the meaningful aspect of the clothes is disregarded. Having explained why clothes can be a form of communication, we will argue that choosing to not care about this communication is a form of privilege resulting from class, economic context, conventional attractiveness or fame. Furthermore, we will argue on the example of the con-artist Anna Sorokin that, apart from mere clothes, context is important. Aspects of whom the wearer is, how the garment is worn and when must also be considered when analyzing communication through clothes.

    ‘Old Money Style’

    The ‘old money style’, or ‘old money aesthetic’, is a recent clothing trend of people wanting to dress in an elegant and classic style, imitating the fashion choices of upper-class wealthy people with a grand family tree and set traditions. Popular clothing items are cable knit sweaters, linen pants, boat shoes, polo shirts, oxford shirts and navy blazers (Berlinger 2024, n.d.). As the names already suggest, the clothes are tied to a certain kind of lifestyle – having a boat, playing polo and going to esteemed universities like the University of Oxford. The specific look, worn by the likes of the Windsor family or John F. Kennedy, is based on the already existing ‘preppy’ style. ‘Prep’ stems from American and English preparatory schools, which are private schools for children who want to go to college or university (Lingala 2013, 4). The style is said to have originated in the late 19th century (Lingala 2013, 2), when the upper class could afford to study classical programs instead of having to work. This class of White Anglo-Saxon Protestants, henceforth referred to as WASPs, were proud of their family history and wanted to distinguish themselves from the people who got rich through the Industrial revolution in the 19th century, marking the beginning of the separation of ‘old money’ and ‘new money’ (Lingala 2013, 8).

    The question arises – why now? Why did the trend of ‘old money’ reemerge at this particular moment? On Tik Tok, the hashtag #oldmoney has over 600,000 posts (June 2024) and on Instagram, the hashtag has over a million posts (June 2024). Additionally, the search expression ‘old money style’ gained a sudden, steep rise in interest around late February of 2024 (Google Trends, n.d.). Two connected reasons could be responsible for that. Firstly, the ‘old money aesthetic’ can give a person safety and stability, especially in times of crisis. The conservative attitude of ‘old money’ to rely on heritage and tradition, wearing what always has been worn, is somewhat against a core principle of fashion: change. Fashion is defined by its restlessness, always changing, evolving, and the need to have the latest trend. By dressing timelessly and traditionally, the WASPs cling to their rituals and rules. It is no wonder that in a time of crisis and financial instability, people yearn even more for stability and the fantasy of being rich. It could therefore be argued that on a deeper level, pretending to be ‘old money’ by wearing their attire is a form of escapism. Escapism is understood as people trying to escape reality by imagining being somebody else or somewhere else; to not be confronted with the problems of reality (Collins English Dictionary, n.d.). This presentation of one’s social status is visually heightened through the constant comparison on social media. While people have always wanted to be carefree and/or rich, the possibility of showing off one’s lifestyle and being confronted with the lifestyle of others is essentially limitless on the internet.

    Another influencing aspect on the popularity of the ‘old money style’ might be the current climate crisis and ever-escalating mass production and consumption. Fashion occurs in cycles. What was trendy roughly 20 years ago always comes back in style, sometimes in slightly different variations (Mollard 2022). Trends can emerge as a response to past trends; if big sunglasses are ‘in’, soon people will want to go against the grain and wear small sunglasses, and eventually the trend will once again cycle back to bigger sunglasses. The actual length of each phase of this cycle, however, has rapidly shortened over the past couple of years: “the advent of innovative technologies and social media has drastically condensed the life cycle of trends today” (Mollard 2022). Given the current climate crisis, a counter movement of sustainable clothing has arisen, with individuals attempting to avoid purchasing mass-produced garments. Sustainable clothing is not only sustainable in terms of their fabrics and materials, but the look should somehow transcend trend cycles and remain wearable. If the new shoe silhouette people want to buy fits the current trend but could be ‘out’ again at any moment, sustainable shoppers may instead opt for a more classical and timeless look that will stay fashionable regardless of what is currently ‘trending’. This thinking goes hand in hand with the conservative thinking (in the non-political sense) of ‘old money’ regarding clothing. However, this is not to say that the current ‘old money’ look is truly timeless. While, for example, jeans and a white t-shirt are now seen as ‘timeless’, back in the 18th century one would have been quite out of place in jeans. ‘Timeless’ clothes are therefore hard to define objectively, because it depends on who you ask, and when.

    The Proletarianization of Fashion

    In a society with a growing social media and technological presence, comparison between lifestyles becomes ever more frequent. The problem follows from the previously described term ‘escapism’. The idea that one group desires to be like the other can be linked to a problematic social class disparity that forces lower classes to take matters into their own hands to find a place within their society, or lack thereof. Questioning these dynamics takes us to several burdens, especially that of class struggle, which can be linked to proletarianization.

    ‘Proletarianization’ originally comes from Marx and Engels, who introduced the term ‘proletariat’: the working class who had no ownership and were, in a way, exploited for their work, while the bourgeois class gained the fruits of the proletariat’s labor. Marx maintained that the working class was a victim of the ruling elite because they had no ownership over the means of production (that they were producing themselves). With that, several problems came, all boiling down to substantial economic and social inequalities which were to Marx, Engels, and many thinkers of the time (and now), unacceptable. According to Hutnyk, on the topic of proletarianization, the initial stages of this term had more to do with pauperization and the lack of ownership, one which “results in the first place from the loss of savoir-faire of workers enslaved to machines, and no longer masters of their tools” (Hutnyk 2012, 128).

    Philosopher Bernard Stiegler reintroduces the term Proletarianization, going beyond the traditional Marxist view of the working class’s lack of ownership of the means of production. For Stiegler, the lack of possession that the proletariat has is not limited to ownership but rather to the dispossession of knowledge, skills, and cultural memory. The lack of “know-how” or “savoir-faire” in the consumerist and capitalist society of today has “led to a deprivation of recognition, sociability, and finally existence, generating the suffering of the consumers becoming miserable” (Hutnyk 2012, 128).

    Modern and industrial technological developments have led to a significant loss in individual thinking skills. By introducing new methods of machinery and production, workers have become unaware of what their tasks actually are – comparable to machine operators. This also links to their lack of knowledge on how to conduct certain tasks in the workforce; the same introduction and development of technological systems into human structures have removed humans’ ability and desire to learn and understand what they are doing. All these new perspectives on proletarianization are also linked to how people, in turn, live in a society. If they are reduced to limited knowledge capacities and abilities, their ability to communicate and socialize becomes equally limited, creating a society with little to no individuation. Rather, a homogenous society emerges where everyone thinks and does the same, due to a lack of ability to do otherwise.

    However, his conception of proletarianization comes, once again, closer to Marx when he suggested that the impact of this proletarianization in economic structures is great. With a concentration of technological power, control and knowledge in the hands of a few elites (leading corporations), the social structures have a more focused controlling and exploitative starting point. This only perpetuates the economic and social disparities which Marx also believed to be a problem with the working class’s lack of ownership over the means of production. The term ‘proletarianization’, as Stiegler reintroduced, can be connected to what this paper intends to examine: the lack of individuation. In a homogenous society, a ruling elite (unintentionally) sets the basis for what the lower, working class is meant to wear, and also what they wear themselves.

    The creation of a general framework of style and fashion, such as the ‘old money aesthetic’, can be associated with Marx’s bourgeoisie, which leads the behavior of the working class. If we take a step towards fashion, we can see that a growing number of people in the working classes attempt to make themselves visible within workplaces or other professional locations by wearing clothes similar to those worn by people high in command. The lack of originality that is – according to Stiegler – a product of a growing technological society, sees an increase in the homogeneity of fashion styles within communities. Let us take, for example, a suit. A suit in its full form, with all that it embodies – accessories included – has the power to establish a person wearing a suit as having a powerful position within the workplace. But this goes beyond the clothing item. There are plenty of other factors which should be taken into account alongside the suit. Namely: the brand, the shape of the lapel, the color, the lining, the fabric, the shoes that accompany it and whether they have a buckle, whether the belt is brown or black, and if it matches the suit, etc. All of these questions seem extremely superficial and irrelevant for a workplace and should say nothing about a person’s professional abilities, but unfortunately, this is not the case.

    Counter Movement: Fashion as a Means of Communicating a Political Statement

    What is seen within the proletariat in terms of what they wear are two things: they either want to come closer to the higher-class, ruling elite by dressing the same way (albeit taking into account this lack of originality and overall societal homogeneity), as seen in the old money style. Or, the opposite: where the proletariat, taking Marx’s views on the working class uniting and stepping away from all things bourgeoisie, decides to take the alternative stance and wear something completely different, thereby making a political and social statement.

    The first option is very visible within American sororities and fraternities in the Ivy League school system. Whereas ‘old money’ and ‘new money’ are no longer visible to the naked eye and require more intensive research and knowledge on each person individually, the case is now that there is a homogeneity of fashion even within the higher class. Here, it is relevant to echo Stiegler’s discussion regarding the generalized lack of know-how and originality that has emerged from an incredibly technologically dependent society. Individuals within it no longer have the ability to choose things for themselves. Going back to the Ivy Leagues, the point is that, although the principle of the clothes is the same and the idea of outfits is the same, the place where the clothes are bought are quite disparate. While some purchase their clothes in high-end stores that, today, are in vogue, others turn to lower-cost and more accessible alternatives that will provide the same concept of clothes but at a substantially lower price. This way, the sorority girls will still be a part of the community without spending a small fortune in order to look the part.

    On the other hand, there is a desire on part of the proletariat, the people that are not encapsulated within the elite class, to emancipate themselves from the framework. We have looked upon the lower classes desiring membership of the upper classes to the extent that they dress similarly (in a conceptual sense) to the latter. We will now examine another perspective that can be taken as one of emancipation, individualization, and of making a statement: “I do not want to be a part of this”. This second option entails many movements which have arisen throughout the last decades, aiming to step away from all that is known as ‘old money’. These include the punks, hippies, and Black Panthers, for example, who all decided to make their own political statements by dressing in very particular ways, exclusive to the message that they were trying to convey – mostly based on countering the leading elite’s power, in very simple terms.

    For instance, much like ‘old money’, we can look at how some Hip Hop trends increased in the late 1980s, 1990s, and remain alive in today’s society. In these decades, young Black people were establishing their own sense of style and appreciation for their culture via their clothing, following the Hip Hop trends that were on the rise within the music industry. These clothes were based on “unique styles that they feel reflects their Black identity such as bold colors or traditional garments from African cultures” (Johnson et al. 2022, 265). These are set to reflect a deeper sense of their own identities as a minority group.

    By claiming this sense of style within their community, Black people were, too, making a statement regarding their position within society. They would not give in to the hegemony (as seen in Stiegler’s works) of style just because the leading elites, the white people, were doing so. They made their own movement and chose to present themselves in these clothes because it was what made them happy for themselves and represented their culture. They could also be trend-setters, cool and powerful, within their circles, and hoped they could extend this to the racist world that surrounded them.

    This is exactly what happened. By being trend-setters to such an extent, the urban fashion movement spread so much that it started being used by white people. This was inappropriate in two ways: firstly, it was an appropriation of a style that encapsulated African American culture and their struggle (which white people couldn’t relate to, no matter how much they tried). Secondly, it exacerbated social injustice and disparities in treatment between races: while a white person wearing a hoodie and sweatpants was overlooked, a Black person wearing a hoodie and sweatpants could be considered a thug by authorities, bringing them into unnecessary trouble and creating several additional problems.

    Following this cultural appropriation, Black communities created brands that would represent their trends in clothing, in music, in relatability, in a shared struggle, in everything that meant anything to them. These brands were their way of establishing themselves within the system. By creating these brands, not only did they attempt to address an economic injustice perpetrated by white store owners who were profiting from a culture that was not their own, but they established a place where Black people’s shared interests could be found and represented. A problem arose when big brands such as Tommy Hilfiger or Hugo Boss, at the time, noticed that Black-led ‘urban’ fashion trends were increasing and, therefore, decided to create collections that would replicate these types of clothing. This was problematic, again, for two reasons. First, it was culturally appropriating clothes and trends that they, as majority white-owned companies were not familiar with and could not represent in their full essence. Secondly, as large companies, they were taking away profits that would otherwise have gone to Black-owned businesses, perpetrating further economic injustice. Big companies were feeding from trends that were created as statements, as an affront to the status quo, and turning those statements into the status quo, removing their essence entirely. They were capitalizing on Black people’s struggles and the marginalization they had experienced. These companies have significantly attenuated urban, Black fashion, whereas ‘urban’ “is a term that used to be synonymous with the Black community, now ‘everybody’s trying to use the word (“urban”) to appropriate Black culture’” (Johnson et al. 2022, 264).

    This goes to show how different cultures and clothing styles can provide different ways of asserting one’s power, status, and role within a society. From ‘old money’ clothing wearers, who stick to a century-old clothing style as a means to remain in vogue and ever-classic, ever-powerful and ever-rich; to Hip Hop clothing wearers who, in delving into new areas of styles and trying new things, are able to make basic political statements. Ultimately, there are several ways in which clothing plays a part in communication.

    The Fascinating Case of Anna Delvey – The Privilege to Not Care

    In recent years, Anna Sorokin, or as she called herself, Anna Delvey, originally from an area near Moscow, posed as a German heiress in New York’s high society and cheated many people out of their money. She was arrested in 2017, when she could no longer pay her bills (Taleb and Hellmich 2024). In 2022, the series about her, Inventing Anna, aired on Netflix and made her story even more famous. But how was she able to uphold her masquerade for around four years? She desperately wanted to be part of the glamorous world of the pretty and the rich. She therefore created her own character with a backstory, made believable through her designer outfits. She did not always have the most coherent, stylish outfits and often mismatched designer brands. That is exactly why her scam worked. As an article in Vogue Australia puts it: “She didn’t look like her outfits cost a million bucks – and that is why she looked like she had a million bucks” (Brown 2022). If you are truly rich, you do not need to show other people and convince them of your status: “Her seemingly sloppy clothing, rather than revealing her true origins, in fact made her look more like a rich person” (Tashijan 2019). You can have the privilege to not care, to not fit in, because you are able to financially stem the consequences.

    Usually, trying to distinguish one’s own class can be compared with an arms race. Because the lower classes strive to imitate the upper classes to profit from the privileges resulting from being part of that class, the upper classes must constantly adapt and find new ways to distinguish themselves. Similarly, the ‘Red Queen Hypothesis’ in evolutionary biology states that “species (or populations) must continually evolve new adaptations in response to evolutionary changes in other organisms to avoid extinction” (Langerhans 2018). The real privilege is, now, to step away from the constant comparison and to care less about refining one’s social standing within society.

    The privilege to not care can also be attributed to privileges other than being rich. Two examples are being conventionally attractive or being famous. The ‘model-off-duty look’ describes a very casual look, inspired by outfits that models wear on the street when they are in between jobs or running from airport to airport. In its formula, the ‘model-off-duty look’ shows similarities with the old-money style in its neutrality and timelessness: “To craft a genuinely effortless model-off-duty look, stick to high-quality wardrobe basics. Investing in classic pieces is sustainable and practical, as the garments will take you from decade to decade” (Chwatt 2024). The outfit consisting of a white t-shirt and jeans, which on an average person seems basic and put together without attention to detail, looks elegant and effortless on the models. Since models have a body according to the common beauty standard, their body turns into an accessory itself and makes the clothes look well-fitted and desirable. Additionally, the public knows that this is only a functional outfit for in-between duties, and not the laziness of not coming up with a creative outfit, since they are able to wear fancy dresses to Galas, in campaigns, and on the runway all the time.

    Another desired aspect is fame. The Coachella Festival, also colloquially called the “Influencer Olympics” (Espada 2023), is a very popular music festival in California. Each year, a lot of celebrities show up to present themselves, their brands and, of course, their outfits. Especially influencers, people who became famous on social media such as Instagram, Tik Tok and YouTube, attend this event to present themselves. Every year, the outfits become grander and louder and bigger to not get lost in the sea of other influencers posting their outfits at Coachella. However, another trend has recently developed – non-influencers such as models show up to Coachella dressed very casually, in just a leather jacket, jeans and a t-shirt. With this act, they show that they do not have to partake in the war for attention, because they are already famous. They are so rich that such a special event like the expensive Coachella Festival is not worthy enough to dress up for.

    In summary, aspects such as good looks, fame or wealth afford the privilege to not care about broadcasting one’s adherence to these standards. Visibly and desperately working to convince other people of one’s good qualities may be an indicator that, in fact, those good qualities are missing. In a time where anybody can buy grand and colorful clothing, the choice to transcend the arms race for better, newer, more expensive clothes is seen as desirable. It is a privilege to be able to rely on other qualities – a healthy body, good manners, disposable income and connections – not having to hide the lack of one of those qualities behind a gaudy outfit. Because as much influence clothes have on how one is perceived, the matter of who wears them is of as much importance.

    The Secret Language and Habits of the Rich

    The ‘old money aesthetic’ is, in itself, a personification of class struggle. Wanting to dress up like wealthy people already distinguishes one from the other. Wanting to show off already signals a kind of missing ambivalence concerning what other people think. Although people can try to imitate the looks of the rich, customs and traditions are hard to train overnight. Furthermore, not all blouses are created equally. Just imitating the silhouette or color scheme is not enough to elevate oneself into the upper class: “Micheal Kurtis, a luxury-fashion consultant, knows of shoppers who will spend $100,000 on clothing from the ‘Row’ [high end fashion brand] that’s barely identifiable to the untrained eye. Clothes like these are a secret language, communicating wealth only to those in the know” (Brooke 2022).

    The speech act, “dogwhistle” (Olasov 2016), is a linguistic tool used in politics to allow multiple interpretations of a phrase or a word, depending on which audience you belong to. In that sense, dressing in casual high-end brands without logos to identify them on the first look, is similar to a speech act as a way to communicate your status to the people who know about it and recognize the pieces from the latest runway because they were sitting in the first row. This trend of dressing in understated yet expensive high-quality pieces is called “quiet luxury” (Fröbe 2024). It poses a counter trend to the “logomania” (Glasheen 2024) of the mid 2010s, where the “overt use of logos on apparel, accessories, consumables and – in a few unfortunate cases – printed onto model’s faces” (Glasheen 2024) was trending. Although ‘quiet luxury’ and ‘old-money’ are heading in the same direction, ‘quiet luxury’ is more toned down and about fabrics and silhouettes, while ‘old-money’ is about specific clothing items like loafers and cardigans. ‘Old money’ does not frown upon showing brand logos like Polo Ralph Lauren (Fröbe 2024).

    Even apart from the specific clothing items, Anna Sorokin’s case also teaches us that it is not merely about the items themselves, but also about how and when you wear them. The context matters. Anna “didn’t take care of her things, acted like she didn’t have to” (Brown 2022). Similarly to the Coachella Festival, if luxury items and events are nothing special for someone anymore, they do not have to take special care of them. One example of this is Jane Birkin. The French actress and singer gave her name to the famous Hermès ‘Birkin Bag’ – for many, the epitome of luxury handbags (Der Stern 2023). While most wear this bag with the utmost care due to the price, Jane herself wore her bag with ribbons, stickers and bangles. Apart from the how, the timing matters as well: “Looking wealthy goes deeper than what you wear […]. It’s about wearing a white silk suit on a rainy day in New York because you have a driver to ferry you through the gray slush” (Brooke 2022). These details come through knowledge, through experience and cannot be imitated by merely putting on clothes.

    However, clothes do create social standing. In that regard, it is a two-way street. Malcolm Barnard proposed that clothes “are not used simply to indicate or refer to social and cultural positions, they are used to construct and mark out that social and cultural reality in the first place” (2002, 38). Clothes are part of forming the classes. In contrast, one’s social standing also influences how clothes are perceived. This fine line can be demonstrated by the story of the con-artist, Tom Ripley, in The Talented Mr. Ripley (1955;1999). Although initially “admitted to Dickie Greenleaf’s circle to itinerant rich kids thanks to a borrowed Princeton blazer”, he is later “skewered for wearing a heavy corduroy jacket in the Italian heat” (Brooke 2022). Passing as wealthy due to a blazer may work at first glance: “Dress is a convenient method to keep class distinction because it is so visible” (Lingala 2013, 24); but no respectable, wealthy Italian would wear a jacket in the middle of a summer day. When to dress up and when not is as much of an importance as how to take care of the clothes.

    Conclusion

    Questions like when, how and why are questions that the average person does not ask themselves when it comes to fashion. It seems superficial, indifferent and arguably should not even play such a big role within professional settings. But the cold reality is that it does. Clothing, fashion, and all that it entails has almost as much to say today as the information one learns in one’s curriculum. It seems that as society evolves, trends keep spawning back from the past, and with that, the restlessness which was talked about previously has an even greater impact in drawing the lines for knowledge and power assertion.

    However important the restlessness of different fashion trends is, there are still some timeless and permanent trends that have remained. ‘Old-money styles’, and other styles that have emerged from class struggles demonstrate how truly communicative fashion can be when it comes to power dynamics. Everyone wants to fit in somewhere; Stiegler (and Marx) displayed that there are different social groups, and one which rules them all. Eventually, the ruled groups lack means of knowledge due to the growing presence of technological artifacts in today’s society, which forces this group to follow along the lines of demarcation that have already been set. However, wanting to fit in seems to backfire in the end. As we have seen with Anna Sorokin or Tom Ripley, or even with white people wanting to wear ‘urban’ fashion clothing items that were innovations by and for Black people, there are certain things which cannot be imitated, and the truth comes out in the end. No matter how much we deny it, fashion and its context play a big role in demonstrating someone or some movement’s true colors, from the lower class to the upper class, clothing travels through it all.


    Bibliography

    Barnard, Malcolm. 1996. Fashion as Communication. London: Routledge.

    Berlinger, Max. 2024. “Why is Gen Z So Obsessed With Old Money Style?” GQ, April 5, 2024. https://www.gq.com/story/old-money-style-aesthetic-explainer.

    Brooke, Eliza. 2022. “How to Look Rich, According to People Pretending to Be Rich.” The Cut, February 18, 2022. https://www.thecut.com/2022/02/how-to-look-rich.html.

    Brown, Annie. 2022. “Scammer chic: the allure, and trap of ‘looking the part’.” Vogue Australia, February 17, 2022. https://www.vogue.com.au/fashion/news/anna-delvey/news-story/ad123a6288f91842f311ee69620d595d.

    Chwatt, Nikki. 2024. “Achieve the Model-Off-Duty Look With 9 Simple Outfit Formulas.” Editorialist, March 28, 2024. https://editorialist.com/fashion/model-off-duty-outfits/.

    Collins COBUILD Advances Learner’s Dictionary. n.d. “Escapism”. Collins English Dictionary. Accessed June 23, 2024. https://www.collinsdictionary.com/de/worterbuch/englisch/escapism.

    Der Stern. 2023. “Birkin Bag: “Ich fürchte, am Ende wird man sich nur an diese Handtasche erinnern.” Der Stern, July 17, 2023. https://www.stern.de/kultur/jane-birkin—ich-fuerchte-am-ende-wird-man-sich-nur-an-diese-handtasche-erinnern–33131156.html.

    Espada, Mariah. 2023. “Coachella Was Once About Music. Now Critics Say It’s the ‘Influencer Olympics’.” Time, April 21, 2023. https://time.com/6273785/coachella-influencer-olympics/.

    Fröbe, Lola. 2024. “Quiet Luxury geht in die zweite Runde: Old Money Style verleiht dem klassischen Look ein luxuriöses Finish.” Harper’s Bazaar, March 3, 2024. https://www.harpersbazaar.de/fashion/mode-trend-2024-old-money-style.

    Google Trends. n.d. “Old money style”. Google Trends. Accessed June 23, 2024. https://trends.google.com/trends/explore?q=%2Fg%2F11ldm166d4.

    Highsmith, Patricia. 1955. The Talented Mr. Ripley. New York: Coward-McCann.

    Hutnyk, John. 2012. “Proletarianization.” New Formulations 77, no. 77 (Winter): 127-149. https://doi.org/10.3898/NEWF.77.08.2012.

    Johnson, Courtney, Reddy-Best, Kelly L. and Eulanda A. Sanders. 2022. “Swagger Like Us: Black Millennials’ Perceptions, Knowledge, and Influence of 1980s and 1990s Urban Fashion Trends.” Clothing and Textiles Research Journal 40, no.4 (October): 255-270. https://doi.org/10.1177/0887302X20976634.

    Langerhans, R.B. 2018. “The Red Queen Hypothesis.” In Encyclopedia of Ecology (Second Edition), edited by Brian Fath, 32-36. Amsterdam: Elsevier. https://doi.org/10.1016/B978-0-444-63768-0.00471-6.      

    Lingala, Anu. 2013. “The Origin and Evolution of ‘Prep’ and its Socioeconomic Relevance.” Honors diss., Cornell University.

    Minghella, Anthony, dir. 1999. The Talented Mr. Ripley. Hollywood, CA: Paramount Pictures, 1999. DVD.

    Mollard, Mélanie. 2022. “Understanding fashion trend life cycles: The 5 stages.” Heuritech, January 27, 2022. https://www.heuritech.com/articles/five-stages-of-fashion-trend-life-cycle/.

    Olasov, Ian. 2016. “Offensive political dog whistles: you know them when you hear them. Or do you?” Vox, November 7, 2016. https://www.vox.com/the-big-idea/2016/11/7/13549154/dog-whistles-campaign-racism.

    Taleb, Najoua and Björn Hellmich. 2024. “Der Fall der Eschweiler Betrügerin Anna Sorokin.” Aachener Zeitung, February 26, 2024. https://www.aachener-zeitung.de/lokales/region-aachen/eschweiler/der-fall-der-eschweiler-betruegerin-anna-sorokin/8290788.html.

  • The (Un)freedom of Dutch Housing

    In the Netherlands, there is a housing crisis. This fact has been so unanimously agreed upon that it even became one of the main spearpoints in the 2023 Dutch elections under the moniker of ‘bestaanszekerheid’, or security of living (NOS 2023). The main problems that make up this crisis are the scarcity of available housing and the price of housing that is available. Citizens looking into purchasing a house are often outbid, and those applying for social housing are placed on waiting lists that may take up to 17 years in some municipalities (Buijtendijk & Buijs 2023). One of the main driving forces in this housing crisis is the privatisation of the housing market during the 90s (Kras 2022). This privatisation was aimed at providing more citizens with cheaper housing due to competition on the open market. Privatisation also meant there would be less social housing and more opportunities for house ownership. Why is it that the liberalisation of the housing market, which would give citizens more opportunities and freedom regarding housing, has made many citizens unfree due to their inability to find a stable place to live?

    ​A central turning point often mentioned regarding housing in the Netherlands is the 1990s (Kras 2022). Before this period, it was often the case that municipalities owned large pieces of land and willingly distributed these to housing associations eager to start building affordable, accessible housing. This meant municipalities had control over the amount, size, and specifications of new housing. An inevitable shift occurred during the 1990s when the citizen became important as an individual and consumer. Citizens had specific, personal wishes and desires, which also affected their perspective on the role of housing in society. Creating considerable diversity in housing types and fulfilling more specific wishes regarding lifestyle became central. Adding to this, providing citizens with the ability to own a house privately became a central political goal (Haas, Heerink, and DWARS Commissie economie, n.d., 12). To fulfil these goals, municipalities sold their shares in land and housing projects, thus privatising the housing market.

    ​This tendency in economic politics is also considered to be a shift from socialist politics towards a more liberal mindset. Liberalism, as an ideology, focuses on personal freedom and the freedom to conceive of your own personal idea of ‘the good life’. This is also often referred to as the idea of negative freedom. With negative freedom, citizens are free to decide for themselves and free from interference from others (or the state). Negative conceptions of freedom also stimulated the liberalisation of the housing market. Citizens would be able to choose a living space that best suits their taste. Thus, by focusing on providing more options (type and size of a house, private or social housing, etc.), a citizen’s personal freedom is increased. While on paper, citizens are free to choose what kind of housing they desire, in practice, they do not have the ability to actually express this freedom. Due to privatisation, housing prices have increased, and the availability of housing has decreased, which has, in practice, made citizens less free. In this sense, citizens are forced to apply to any social housing projects that remain or apply for a mortgage that limits their financial mobility significantly. While liberalism proposes an ideology of personal choice and freedom, the practical consequence is that citizens have become less free.

    ​A potential opening to escape this deadlock in housing is finding a different conception of freedom, namely, positive freedom. Positive freedom is generally conceptualised as the idea that citizens have the freedom to actualise the possibilities given to them (Warburton, n.d.). Positive freedom focuses on the ability to make a specific choice. This is opposed to a liberal conception of freedom, which focuses on the opportunity to make choices, not your actual capacity to make choices. Hegel suggested that free will is actualised through the choices that individuals and collectives make; therefore, being able to actualise choice is more an expression of freedom than the opportunity to make choices. A housing market focused on positive liberty is thus focused on realising citizens’ ability to receive housing, instead of providing irrelevant possible choices. This would, for example, lessen possible options in housing but make the options that are there more accessible.

    To provide some perspective, this idea has already been realised in Austrian social housing (VPRO 2023). In Austria, over 80% of citizens are eligible for social housing and pay comparatively little for their housing. In the Dutch context, social housing is seen as something for ‘the poor’ and is generally seen as undesirable. This is completely reversed in the Austrian context. Citizens see social housing as something positive and that it does not entail living in poor or inadequate housing. Positive freedom, when translated into providing as many citizens as possible with adequate housing, causes innovative and livable housing options to arise (VPRO 2023).

    Additionally, other opportunities open up by providing more citizens with suitable housing. Since citizens can now access housing more easily, they may also have better job opportunities and access to social and community participation. Thus, by providing accessible housing, citizens have more choices that are open to them, and become, in turn, freer. Citizens in this situation are less restricted and gain opportunities instead of losing them.

    ​While the housing crisis in the Netherlands may seem like a purely practical or technical problem, it is, in actuality, fueled by a specific, negative conception of freedom. Therefore, the housing crisis problem can only be resolved by adopting a new conception of freedom. This can be found in positive freedom, which focuses on capabilities instead of opportunities. Additionally, housing based on positive freedom has already been realised in Austria, which could serve as an example for the Netherlands to tackle its housing crisis.


    Bibliography

    Buijtendijk, Richard, and Madeline Buijs. 2023. “In Nederland sta je eindeloos op de wachtlijst voor een sociale huurwoning.” Colliers, October 5, 2023. https://www.colliers.com/nl-nl/research/factcheck-in-nederland-sta-je-eindeloos-op-de-wachtlijst-voor-een-sociale-huurwoning.

    Haas, Raoel, Vincent Heerink, and DWARS Commissie economie. n.d. “Waarom de huizenmarkt altijd faalt. Een economisch-historische analyse van huisvesting, marktfalen en woningcorporaties.” Accessed August 20, 2024. https://dwars.org/wp-content/uploads/2023/04/Manifest-Volkshuisvesting.pdf.

    Kras, Jeanette. 2022. “Waarom oplossen woningcrisis zo moeilijk is: ‘We zitten gevangen in het systeem.” Welingelichte Kringen, January 5, 2022. https://www.welingelichtekringen.nl/economie/3158548/waarom-oplossen-woningcrisis-zo-moeilijk-is-we-zitten-gevangen-in-het-systeem.html.

    NOS. 2023. “Bestaanszekerheid is een belangrijk thema voor veel kiezers.” NOS, November 5, 2023. https://nos.nl/collectie/13960/video/2496803-bestaanszekerheid-is-een-belangrijk-thema-voor-veel-kiezers.

    VRPO. 2023. “expeditie beter Nederland.” Last modified November 30, at 20:30 (CET). https://www.vpro.nl/programmas/tegenlicht/kijk/afleveringen/2023-2024/Expeditie-beter-Nederland.html.

    Warburton, Nigel. n.d. “Two Concepts of Freedom.” OpenLearn. Accessed August 20, 2024. https://www.open.edu/openlearn/history-the-arts/philosophy/two-concepts-freedom/content-section-3.3.

  • Longing for a Fantastical ‘Home’

    Self-Reflections on the Problematics for a Queer Tourist and Future Expat in Budapest


    “And when I’m back in Chicago, I feel it

    Another version of me, I was in it

    Oh, I wave goodbye to the end of beginning”

    (Djo 2022 “End of Beginning”)

    In early 2024, the song “End of Beginning” by the artist Djo, more commonly known as actor Joe Keery, started to trend on the social media platform TikTok. Suddenly, the song was everywhere. It refers to the singer’s lived experience in the city of Chicago, at a time before he was famous. He expresses his nostalgic feelings about being back in the city in which he experienced a significant change in his life. A trend was constructed around the song, in which creators posted videos or slideshows with photographs taken of a specific place that they had visited that they have a deep emotional connection with. At this location, they feel like they can be their authentic Self; they can express themselves and grow as individuals; they feel like they have the chance to realise their full potential. The location, often a city, then becomes the stage in which dreams become true, in which one can become a better person just by being there in this magical space. While this message is somewhat removed from the original intent of the song, this interpretation was unanimously accepted by its audience and creators on TikTok.

    In this essay, I would like to talk about my experiences with my own ‘Chicago’. A Chicago that feels like the place I am destined to be, in which I feel like I can grow to be the person I will like the most – my Best Self, so to speak – in which I can teach myself how to be free. A ‘Chicago’ that does not exist for a trans person, and even less so for a trans person in a homosexual relationship: my Chicago is Budapest, Hungary. Budapest has featured in various videos and slideshows shared on TikTok accompanied by Djo’s song, a trend to which I contributed by sharing personal photos that I took during a recent trip to Budapest. Unsurprisingly, all content of Budapest frequently features the architectural flagships of Budapest that are recognisable by a larger audience as part of Budapest’s regional attractions, framed in a way that underscores a romanticised emotional engagement with those sites. Through this, the city is presented as a space in which individual freedom of expression and movement is implied and encouraged. However, when one further investigates the socio-political discourses surrounding Budapest and the Hungarian nation, peeking behind the façade of romantic tourist engagement, an engagement with Budapest as one’s own ‘Chicago’ reveals a very contrasting view.

    The Fantasy

    I am not able to explain my fascination with all things Budapest. In my defence, the city is recognised as a city of fairytales, although it is not explicitly marketed as this. As László Puczkó, an economist specialising in Tourism and Logistics, attests: Budapest “embodies the past, the present and the future” of Hungary (Puczkó et al. 2008, 22). The capital embodies the things that are most emblematically Hungarian, signposting what is pertinent to the Hungarian national identity, and developing the building blocks that will shape Hungarian identity in the future. In contemporary times, Budapest stands out through its architectural diversity which contributed significantly to the central city area being taken aboard the UNESCO World Heritage List, with special attention given to the banks of the Danube river (which splits the city into Buda on one side, and Pest on the other), the Buda castle quarter and Andrássy Avenue. According to UNESCO, the area is “one of the world’s outstanding urban landscapes and illustrates the great periods in the history of the Hungarian capital” (UNESCO n.d.). Photographs of the city proliferate on social media platforms, in which romantic imaginations of Budapest flourish. Beautiful architectural sites, flagship attractions of Budapest, become the main points around which these romantic imaginations are anchored. The perhaps most pertinent is the Hungarian parliament building (Országház) located on the Pest side of the Danube river, which the late Queen singer Freddie Mercury jokingly expressed a desire to acquire. This building, the third-biggest parliament building in the world, is lauded as an architectural icon and is regarded as the country’s most famous building. Its mainly neo-Gothic style makes the complex appear to have just been transported out of a fairytale with its mesmerising grandeur: a shining white symmetrical facade with intricate details, stained glass windows, and crowned by a massive central dome. Other architectural sites such as the Fisherman’s Bastion, the St Matthias Church and the Chain Bridge (Szechenyi híd), amongst others, carry on this fairytale vibe. During nighttime hours, yet another visitor experience is offered when Budapest’s significant architectural landmarks are illuminated in bright orange and white lights (one exemption being the Freedom Bridge (Szabadság híd) which is illuminated in green light). The special architecture and its framing then contribute significantly to the atmosphere of the city. But beyond that, the city also gives rise to the imagination, specifically for a younger audience, with its raging nightlife. The infamous ruin bars in the city’s Jewish Quarter (Erzsébetváros) provide the stage for wild nighttime adventures in dilapidated buildings. Another intriguing aspect for visitors is provided by Budapest’s rich spa culture, and (which is generally very appreciated by tourists) the cheap prices for wine, beer and hearty meals.

    Since the fall of the Soviet Union, as with many of the countries in Central and Eastern Europe, Hungary had run into some issues with its marketing towards tourists. Besides the already existing architectural sites, much of what tourists generally appreciate about Budapest has been initiated since the post-socialist transition years (1989 onwards). To overcome negative stereotypes of ‘Easternness’, the promotion of a quintessentially European image was highly desirable (Smith and Puczkó 2010, 288), and for Budapest, this meant moving forward to establish a distinct city image. Currently, Budapest aims to attract tourists by moving towards developing a more cosmopolitan, tolerant and dynamic image by including the creative industries and contemporary culture, embodied in part by, for example, the annual Sziget Festival.

    Fantasy, Disrupted

    Despite the international marketing of the city, national politics take on a dominant role in shaping the city for a tourist audience. Scholars of tourism have often observed that the politics intrinsic to a destination seep into the marketing discourse aimed at tourists in some form or another; tourism has an inextricable connection to politics. This is highly evident from the generally positive effect of tourism on a country’s economic capital, and the funds allocated by governments towards the goal of attracting visitors to their country. The ruling ideologies in a destination country also play a part in tourism, or even shape tourism explicitly, where governments “introduce initiatives to manipulate tourism for political purposes” and tourists are indoctrinated with certain ideologies that promote the political goals of the destination to which they have travelled (Zuo et al. 2016, 177). In Hungary, tourism is governed by the state. The Hungarian Tourism Agency (HTA) is operating under the Ministry of National Development (OECD 2018), and is therefore intimately tied to contemporary political shifts and presences.

    In the case of Budapest, perhaps the most obvious tourist sight connected to current politics is the parliament building. A stage for Hungary’s political presence, the parliament houses the national assembly that is led by Viktor Orbán’s national-populist government. In their congregations, laws and legislations are introduced or changed, such as the 2021 anti-LGBT law. The parliament also provides the backbone for Orbán’s selective usage of Hungary’s past and heritage in the attempt to establish unity amongst Hungarian people, in a move to revitalise the country back to its ‘former glory’. In general, a dominant trend of altering historical and social memory through carefully constructed propaganda campaigns is completely inescapable in the case of Hungary, and with that, its capital Budapest. While there are many instances to be pointed out in this essay, I will present a select few here.

    A recent visit to Budapest by me, in March 2024, reveals political sentiments pervading the cityscape of Budapest more openly. Recently, the National Consultation has been completed, a survey that encourages Hungarian citizens to share their opinions on Hungarian government initiatives and political sentiments expressed by the European Union. On the 25th of January 2024, Hungarian government published some of the results to the questions of the latest National Consultation, entitled “Szuverenitásunk Védelméről” (trans. “The Protection of Our Sovereignty”), on Facebook, while simultaneously launching a billboard campaign presenting the results in Budapest. While the survey was answered by 1.5 million people, less than a quarter of the country’s 8 million voters, the billboards touted that upwards of 98% of the respondents are in agreement with the government’s position on multiple pertinent issues, such as supporting the stop of weapon transfers to the Ukraine, and opposing: ‘migrant ghettos’ in Hungary, ‘gender propaganda’, EU membership to the Ukraine and genetically-modified Ukrainian grain, and the support of Palestine, as it is seen as supporting terrorism (Inotai 2023, Dlhopolec et al. 2024). While the National Consultation is presented as a reliable source of the dominant political thoughts for all Hungarian citizens – which can be easily dismissed on account of the number of respondents – the billboard campaign nevertheless displays prominent anti-EU sentiments in public. These are seemingly taken for granted, as most of the banners are not showing obvious signs of intervention, e.g. by graffiti or other signs of disagreement with its messages.

    In another space, anti-Semitism has been a problem in Hungary as the country struggles to come to terms with its role in the Second World War. Two memorial sites, both of which are in close proximity of the parliament, contextualise historical events of the Hungarian past in the 20th century: the Shoes on the Danube River (by artist Can Togay, 2005) south of the parliament, and on the Freedom Square (Szabadság Tér), the “Memorial to the victims of the German occupation” (2014), constructed on Viktor Orbán’s orders. The shoes commemorate the victims of fascist Arrow Cross militiamen, as indicated by a plaque near the monument. In September 2014, multiple of the shoes were stolen. However, the Budapest police did not investigate the case, as no crime had been reported. Shortly before this, the 2014 memorial was erected on the Szabadság Tér, under the cover of night and against the wishes of a large majority of the public, just two days after Orbán’s re-election. His intention with the monument was to honour all victims of the German invasion. With that, his attempts to use history for his own political purposes become visible: the monument portrays Hungary as an innocent victim in the war, while completely dismissing its allyship with Nazi Germany. The monument has now become a permanent protest site and hosts a counter-display, against the “forgery of history” initiated by the Hungarian government. Despite the amount of anti-Semitic sentiments, Orbán has established friendly relations with the Israeli government and prime minister Benjamin Netanyahu since 2005. In the current genocide against Palestine, Hungary openly supports Israel and has become the only European country banning all Palestine-related demonstrations since the Hamas attacks in October 2023 (Zsurzsán 2024).

    An Implicated Subject

    In spite of my knowledge of everything I outlined in the previous paragraph, I cannot help but feel like I will be at home in Budapest. I felt this way before I even visited the city, just by looking at pictures, and the feeling has intensified through three past visits. Even though I need to convincingly cross-dress when I go outside, at least I am not getting cat-called on the street, like I do in any other country that I am visiting as a tourist or that I am living in as a resident. One of my dreams is to study in Budapest for a semester abroad and learn the language fluently. I have the unshakeable feeling that I will have the chance to feel more at home than I currently do in the Netherlands. Nonetheless, reality, obviously, is not that dreamy. For one, being able to study in Budapest comes at the cost of having to dismiss my own identity and having to pretend to be something that I am not. Dreaming of a life in Budapest, even just for my own life, actively dismisses the existing socio-political tensions in Hungary. Additionally, sharing the positive image I have of Budapest on social media implies, at least to an extent, an agreement with Orbán’s LGBTQ-phobic, xenophobic, anti-democratic policies and sentiments that are openly expressed in the city, for example through the billboard campaign of the National Consultation. One could argue that if an individual like myself feels at home in a location like Budapest there is no inherent harm in that. However, the only group of people who have the privilege of not having to care about politics – because it does not impact them – are the ones who have been enabled by hierarchical structures to be in a dominant position and are actively benefitting from it. To this end, I would like to briefly argue alongside the American literature and memory studies scholar Michael Rothberg, specifically engaging with his category of the “implicated subject” and “implication”. What he calls attention to is the state of being “‘folded into’ events that at first seem beyond our agency as individual subjects” (2019, 1), and how implicated subjects “occupy positions aligned with power and privilege …; they contribute to, inhabit, inherit, or benefit from regimes of domination but do not originate or control such regimes” (1). Implicated subjects do not take on either the role of the perpetrator or the victim, but their “actions and inactions help produce and reproduce the positions” (1) of these roles. While one can argue that I could be a potential victim of Hungary’s current politics, in proclaiming my love for Budapest, I see myself as contributing to the perpetuation of these politics. The position I am finding myself in is one produced and kept in place by its tensions: yes, I am in a vulnerable position by being in Budapest, and yet my own position is still one that is in power, as I currently do have the privilege to decide whether or not I want to live in Budapest. The only struggle that I have to fight in this space is having to decide whether I am content with temporarily having to disguise myself as a woman – because nothing Bad has happened to me yet. Other people do not have that privilege. 

    Conclusion

    To revert to the beginning of this essay, and Djo’s song “End of Beginning”, in sharing my personal ‘Chicago’, I am making myself complicit in sharing an image of Budapest that implies the possibility of free expression and freedom – an image that is clearly romanticised and removed from reality. Other people who are sharing their personal ‘Chicago’ to a larger audience, for example via TikTok, might be perpetuating similar messages. Audiences of this content consume not just the visual material shared by other people, but also their ways of emotionally engaging with specific destinations, which are often mediated through the framing of a romantic fantasy that lies at the centre of the ‘Chicago’ experience. They might then also be inspired to share their own ‘Chicago’. Personal engagements might, as shown here, also serve to overshadow socio-political tensions in specific contexts, establishing a location to be ‘safe’ and desirable to visit for all audiences, when reality actually looks very different.


    Bibliography

    Dlhopolec, Peter, Edit Inotai, Jules Eisenchteter and Claudia Ciobanu. 2024. “Democracy Digest: Hungary’s ‘National Consultation’ – Not much to say.” Reporting Democracy, 26 January 2024. https://balkaninsight.com/2024/01/26/democracy-digest-hungarys-national-consultation-not-much-to-say/.

    Inotai, Edit. 2023. “Hungary Launches ‘National Consultation’ targeting the EU, migrants and Ukraine.” Reporting Democracy, 20 November 2023.  https://balkaninsight.com/2023/11/20/hungary-launches-national-consultation-targeting-the-eu-migrants-and-ukraine/.

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    Rothberg, Michael. 2019. “Introduction.” The Implicated Subject: Beyond Victims and Perpetrators. Stanford: Stanford University Press.

    Smith, Melanie, and László Puczkó. 2010. “Out with the old, in with the new? Twenty years of post-socialist marketing in Budapest.” Journal of Town & City Management 1, no. 3: 288-299. London: Henry Stewart Publications.

    Puczkó, László, Tamara Ratz, and Melanie Smith. 2008. “Old City, New Image: Perception, Positioning and Promotion of Budapest.” Journal of Travel & Tourism Marketing 22, no. 3-4: 21-34. https://doi.org/10.1300/J073v22n03_03. 

    UNESCO. n.d. “Budapest, including the Banks of the Danube, the Buda Castle Quarter and Andrássy Avenue.” UNESCO World Heritage Convention. https://whc.unesco.org/en/list/400/.

    Zsurzsán, Anita. 2024. “Hungary’s Support for Israel Exposes Its Fake Pacifism.” Jacobin, 24 March, 2024. https://jacobin.com/2024/03/orban-israel-rafah-ukraine-hypocrisy.

    Zuo, Bing, Songshan (Sam) Huang, and Luhu Liu. 2016. “Tourism as an Agent of Political Socialisation.” International Journal of Tourism Research 18 (March): 176-185. https://doi.org/10.1002/jtr.2044.

  • The Hopes and Dreams of a Student in a Foreign Country

    There is a Portuguese word for a melancholic feeling of remembrance, of longing for someone or something that has been past, the absence of a once pleasing experience that is currently not being lived. The word is Saudade. It cannot be translated very well, and perhaps that is what makes it so dear to all of us Portuguese-speakers. The fact that it is something exclusive emphasizes the feeling of togetherness within the Portuguese-speaking community, and gives space for a discussion about all the things that provoke Saudade in someone. Saudade relates to a particular void you find within yourself – to that empty part of your heart or your soul –  because you no longer have something that once gave you joy. Nostalgia might be close, but that only considers the past, it does not provoke a hollowness in you where there once was something so dear and so good.

    In an editorial team meeting on the theme of the next Splijtstof issue, with much discussion, and the permanent, ever-agonizing feeling of Saudade in the back of my mind, the editor-in-chief, Sophie, challenged me to write a piece on this feeling exactly. I was asked to think about writing on the concept of living abroad, studying philosophy, and battling many different emotions, all with one end: to follow my hopes and my dreams. How can Saudade relate to the future and how can the present accommodate such a feeling of emptiness? The feeling of pursuing a goal is something so thrilling and yet so terrifying. It is part of pursuing your own hopes and dreams and therefore Saudade should always be given free rein to carry out its business.

    You can have Saudade for everything, anything a person, a place, a vacation, a lost sensation, your favourite pastry, and so on. The first thing that comes to mind, for me, is my home. As a student who decided to leave my country in search of new, different, opportunities, I have to say that the feeling that takes over my body the most is the feeling of Saudade. I miss my home, my spot near the beach, my mother, my dog, the daily morning espresso with cinnamon, the traditional and not-so-crass crassness of the man working at the café. I miss speaking my own language, being able to relate on a deeper level with the people walking next to me on the street, exchanging a glance with a stranger and sighing when the line in front of us is too long, being able to express myself in a way that doesn’t require an explanation of a term as long as the one I am writing now.

    The reality is that I left all of this behind. I had my own ambitions that required moving countries and studying there. This entailed starting a whole new life in a place that, quite frankly, is extremely alien from all that I had previously known. Mind you, I mean no disrespect towards the life I have now. I have found my own new reality, one which includes a 4 euro Latte Macchiato, a language barrier that makes me slightly uncomfortable – but not enough to make me leave – and an awful lot of biking. I have chosen this life. Whereas the life I had at home was the life that was given to me: a product of the hard work of my parents and the result of years of tradition in an ancient country. I didn’t really have a say in the way I lived my life. Even though I do, theoretically, have my own rationality, as an individual, independent thinker, who can choose to do things for myself, the deeper truth is that my old life was based on following a crowd, following all that had been done before me. It was based on comfort in tradition, and comfort in what had already been confirmed as efficient and productive.

    The fact that one does not move in an autonomous direction but rather in a flow that is not one’s own, is a reflection of how small we are. In this world, with one minor decision, your whole life can change. You are suddenly a small fish in the ocean, with endless possibilities, hopes, and dreams big enough to fill the entire ocean. Saudade is a way of staying in your own sea, in your own little river, a comfortable place that allows you to not make decisions for yourself, to flow with the current, and still live a relatively comfortable but slightly mediocre life. Saudade, in this sense, undermines the rationality that was so vehemently emphasized during the Enlightenment period; a rationality which many people so strongly advocate for today. This is the idea of being enlightened as a way to step out of the minority which life has set upon you. Making haste to consciously decide to grow and develop one’s own rationality, without interference, is a very Kantian Perspective of Enlightenment, one which I regard as key for anyone with a big decision on their hands.

    To follow my dreams, I chose a new life. I stepped out of the bubble that for so long had coddled me and devised in me a person who loved her nationality, who loved her home, her language, her food, her ability to express the term Saudade. I have learned new things, in fact, I might have learned more from the philosophy life has taught me (by suddenly living alone in a completely different country), than from the philosophy a professor has taught me at a violently early 8:30 a.m. class about Mbembe and his necro-political philosophical theories.

    Choosing to pursue an ambition is a difficult task, one which, I think, is underestimated and taken for granted in the western world. I have found that most people take moving out alone at a mere 18/19 years old to be standard, not necessarily to change countries, but to study and live alone at such a young age is seen as normal. It is a phenomenon that I believe is not discussed on the level it should be discussed. Following your dreams should not automatically entail the pain and anxiety that moving abroad does. From learning what type of olive oil to buy, to knowing that there are certain sweaters that I cannot simply throw in the washing machine, to missing my mother’s hug at the end of an endless-seeming day, none of it is easy. It is an excruciatingly painful, slightly boring, definitely confusing, and excitingly curious process. And this rollercoaster of emotions is exactly what we ought to build on.

    I feel there ought to be some sort of explanation, a disclaimer about all of these emotions when making a conscious decision of following ambitions. It is important to understand that a long process of hardship, fun, emptiness, partying, loneliness, and sometimes all of them simultaneously, will await students. This was something I was not prepared for.

    I was not prepared to follow my hopes and dreams and be met with despair and shocking reality. The thing that perhaps would have helped me was if there were more conversations about how following one’s dreams entails a staggering reality check, where my new truth and new reality was not always ‘dreamy’ and ‘hope-y’. The life I had chosen was the opposite of all that I had previously lived, different to all that I had known and that had known me.

    I try to put these feelings, these confusions, and pains into words, to talk about them with my friends, to see if there is a way of relating them to me, but verbalizing my anxieties is never easy. And so, I am limited to writing, which is what most people turn to in times of distress. Writing, as a way to get rid of my uncertainties, takes me to poetry:


    The seagulls have become crows

    The sound of waves has become the sound of trees

    The sand has become grass.

    The time passes fast, but slow?

    The sun remains the same

    when it is there, that is.

    But the place changed

    The habits changed

    The friends changed

    The house is not the same

    The pillow doesn’t embrace my heavy head in the same way,

    Coffee has a different taste, not exactly good.

    But the heart is there.

    Split between two places

    In a constant crossroads

    Not knowing where to belong.

    maybe to both, who knows.

    My soul longs for something.

    I am yet to discover what that is.

    I don’t know if it is the feeling of having something complete…

    For I feel so incomplete

    and at the same time so full.


    My current reality is bleak, raw, and uncertain. But one thing is for sure, choosing to pursue my hopes and dreams might not have been easy, but it is a changing process, it is an inconstant and beautiful oscillation filled with Saudade and one which is strictly necessary for my personal growth. Without the challenges that life gives you, what is your life but an extension of that which came before you? Making your own choices, following your dreams, giving in to your hopes, entails making sacrifices, but at least they are your own sacrifices. Take it as an ode to (Kantian) Enlightenment, to emancipation, to being able to make educated decisions for yourself; that, certainly, looks better on paper.

  • Nijmegen for Palestine: Demands for Radboud University

    Nijmegen for Palestine (NFP) has made the point clear: Radboud must suspend ties with Israeli universities. And yet our university does not listen. In order to give NFP the space to express themselves and provide a detailed and nuanced account of their demands, I interviewed some members, and asked them about their organisation: who is NFP, and what do they want?

    There are, in this discussion, a few individuals to introduce:

    • Jihad is a Palestinian man and student at the HAN University of Applied Sciences in Nijmegen.
    • Mike is a Jewish activist and student of Medical/Human Biology at Radboud University in Nijmegen.
    • Gijs is a Dutch activist and student of Philosophy, Politics and Society at Radboud. 
    • Anya Topolski is an associate professor of Philosophical Ethics and Political Philosophy at Radboud. She is also the founder of the NGO Another Jewish Voice (Belgium). She was consulted on these topics.
    • I am a British man and activist, also a student of Philosophy, Politics and Society at Radboud.

    On the 17th of November Jihad, Mike, Gijs and I sat down to discuss the ongoing war in Palestine and the aims of NFP. Nijmegen for Palestine is a democratic collective of students and activists united in their shared commitment to activism in solidarity with Palestine. In light of the terrible crimes committed by Israel and Hamas, their operations and membership have expanded.

    This article was written in order to publish an exposé on the organisation of NFP in their own words. The demands for Radboud University are not solely formulated by NFP, but rather by the Students for Palestine organisation and aimed at many Dutch universities. NFP has tailored their demands slightly to meet its needs from Radboud.

    Like Jihad, Mike and Gijs, I too am deeply concerned with the ongoing genocide in Gaza. Genocide is to be defined here as “acts committed with intent to destroy, in whole or in part, a national, ethnical, racial or religious group” (Segal 2023). Segal’s article, published in Jewish Currents ominously concludes: “Israel’s goal is to destroy the Palestinians of Gaza.” We are therefore united in our aims to question Radboud’s official position and decision to remain silent in the face of genocide. It is important to us all that we engage with the university and pressure it to act in light of the ongoing war in Palestine.

    This article will outline the four key aims of NFP with regards to Radboud University:

    • Taking an active stance because there can be no neutrality.
    • Transparent disclosure and severance of all official ties with Israeli universities.
    • The establishment of direct, institutional, and official ties with Palestinian students and universities.
    • To encourage academic freedom and discussion, and an end to the academic censorship.

    Non-Neutrality

    The first demand of NFP is to take a moral stance and condemn genocide. While academics from various faculties are actively educating students, Radboud as a formal institution makes no comment. In a statement on 20th October, Radboud claimed to be “concerned about the armed conflict in Israel and the Palestinian Territories” and to “speak out against any violation of human rights.” (Radboud 2023). Radboud spoke out against Russia following its invasion of Ukraine, actively condemning the war (Radboud 2022). So there is a strong precedent for taking an active stance in relation to politics. “Russian institutions were boycotted, and the language used in statements was very direct and unambiguous. But when it’s done by allies of the of the Netherlands, it’s not the same,” says Mike.

    My first question to the activists was therefore: how do you perceive this “neutral” stance?

    Mike: “Neutrality promotes the idea that the status quo, the state of affairs of the last 75 years, is neutral. A lot of colonial violence is just hidden behind a fog of so-called neutrality.” 

    Gijs: “By aligning themselves with the status quo, Radboud fails to recognise what is happening in Palestine. It implicitly agrees with the frame that Palestinians are the aggressor and that Israel’s actions are legitimate forms of self-defence. This completely ignores the Nakba, 75 years of ethnic cleansing, the ongoing settling of the West Bank, the brutal imprisonment of 2 million people in Gaza, and the fact that Israel’s actions in Gaza right now effectively amounts to genocide.” 

    Leading academics of the discipline of settler-colonialism (Salamanca et al 2012), academics at Radboud (Topolski 2023) and academics at Israeli universities themselves (Bashīr and Goldberg 2019) all resound with NFP in condemnation of the ongoing genocide in Palestine. The list of academics from Radboud and the wider academic community joining in condemnation is long and loud.

    Radboud, however, chooses to project impartiality.

    Jihad: “This is not neutrality, but inhumanity.”

    It’s an alignment with the status quo of slow genocide. “This status quo”, he added, “is that the Netherlands does not recognise Palestinian identity. The Dutch government denies Palestine as a country’s legitimacy. As Radboud has set its own precedent of actively condemning war and human rights violations, neutrality over Palestine actually means to side with this narrative, to stand with the government’s position, which is firmly pro-Israel, and to stand with Israel, in ongoing genocide.”

    I therefore asked NFP, what exactly do they want in terms of university positioning?

    Mike: “Clear official positioning. In line with the calls of other universities in the Netherlands, there must be acknowledgement of the fact that there is a genocide happening. Condemnation of the war. Like they did with Russia.”

    Academic Boycott

    The second demand of NFP is the disclosure and freezing of all official academic ties with Israeli universities. Dutch universities in the 1980s boycotted apartheid South Africa, and Radboud effectively boycotted Russia in 2022 (Radboud 2022). This shows, again, that there’s a precedent set. 

    I therefore asked NFP: Why do you call for the disclosure of ties?

    Mike: “There is a lot of information concerning the connections that we just don’t know, because it is it just not available. So we just don’t know in which way Radboud is cooperating with Israeli institutions.”

    Gijs: “Universities in the Netherlands (although Radboud is a little different because of its status as a special university), have democratic elements. We have the student council here, and the point is to have some democratic decision making for students. But that doesn’t work if we can’t know anything about the actual policy of Radboud. If everything is opaque, how are we going to make a decision about something that we don’t know about?”

    “What exactly does this academic boycott entail?” I asked.

    Mike: “Academic boycott in the sense of no cooperation with Israeli academic institutions, even if it isn’t specifically on projects facilitating genocide, that it is still cooperating with institutions whose purpose it is to maintain these settler-colonial relations.”

    My next question was: “Why do you want to freeze these ties?”

    Gijs: “Israeli universities support their governments, just as Dutch universities are of their government, of course. They support the Israeli military with their research so we find it very problematic that our university, democratic, where we think we should have a say, supports an ongoing genocide.”

    The Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement clearly documents Israeli Universities, partner universities of Radboud, in their complicity with the Israeli state and its actions in Palestine. “Tel Aviv University, for example, has developed tens of weapon systems and the ‘Dahiya doctrine’ of disproportionate force employed by the Israeli military” (see Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement, and Khalidi 2014). To sever ties with these institutions means to sever ties with the academic arm of a state that is committing genocide.

    Furthermore, NFP argues, as a democratic university Radboud must listen to their scholars and students. In light of the genocide in Gaza, 19 professors at the university organised a teach-in to educate students on the war. Since then, they have created a public seminar series called the Situating Palestine Collective, in which Radboud itself plays no part. The collective is quickly growing and has already hosted two events at the time of writing.

    Gijs: “Radboud must listen to the critical scholars they employ: what they say about this, how they understand the war in the context of genocide and settler colonialism. They specifically employ these scholars because they are knowledgeable about these topics. I think it would be a great step for Radboud to take to make use of this knowledge and listen to their employees.”

    Build Direct Solidarity with Palestinian Students and Universities

    A self-described “emancipatory” university “committed to equal rights for social and cultural minorities” (Radboud Mission, n.d.), Radboud markets itself as an emancipatory university.

    I asked: “How do you propose Radboud builds solidarity with Palestinian universities and students?”

    Mike: “Radboud needs to amplify Palestinian voices and involve them more in the academic knowledge production. It must join movements initiated by Palestinian students, as well as offer scholarships, offer funding, initiate programmes that do epistemic justice to Palestinians and build university connections with suitable Palestinian partners.”

    Gijs: “[The marginalisation of Palestinian voices] undermines the idea that Radboud is a decolonial university. Because through Israel, it protects colonial interests of the West in the Middle East area.”

    Mike: “Radboud sees itself as a critical university, yet it never makes public statements in opposition to the interests of the Dutch government.”

    Academics of the Philosophy faculty seemingly agree; they are providing informative lectures on the Nakba and Shoah. At the second lecture entitled ‘Situating Palestine through the Lens of Settle Colonialism’, Dr Noura Alkhalili (from Palestine) outlined her struggle for higher education at Birzeit University (through her experience during the 2nd Intifada), given how Palestinian universities are constantly targeted and systematically silenced and isolated.

    Radboud itself must cooperate with the Situating Palestine Collective, and support Palestinian academics, rather than remaining neutral and upholding the government position. To fulfil the “emancipatory” criteria they set themselves, Radboud and other universities must distance themselves from governments and entrenched Zionism.

    Radboud must therefore be willing to take a critical stance and “change perspective” (Radboud’s motto) on the mainstream media/government narrative that Israel is a legitimate actor in this conflict. In order to uphold its projected emancipatory identity, action is needed, not simple marketing campaigns. Radboud should build connections with Palestinian universities, offer scholarships to Palestinian students. This way they can contribute to amplifying Palestinian voices in the West Bank and Gaza. 

    Jihad: “To do so otherwise constitutes the usual hypocrisy of the Western political community.”

    According to Dr. Anya Topolski, what Jihad refers to as hypocrisy and many European liberals refer to as double standards, are “quite simply the true colours of the structural racism of the legal and political system we have built.”

    Political institutions have been built for those in what Franz Fanon calls the zone of being, what Dr. Topolski has theorised as the zone of the humanised. This is the zone in which we can speak of a legal framework, appeal to rights and freedoms. It is also the zone of administration and regulation, of material resources and recognition – it is a zone where we can articulate and have individual identities and stories. While most in Europe live in this zone, not all; the undocumented, the homeless, the poor. Those excluded from the zone of being have a very different lived experience, one much closer to those of many other parts of the world – the zone of non-being, the zone of the damned of the earth, the zone of dehumanisation. In this world there are no rights and no recognition, there are no individual names or stories, just numbers. There is continuous oppression, violence, poverty. This is the world most Palestinians have been living in since the Nakba. While slowly more and more people are willing to see this, for too long many chose not to see it.

    Though we might want to see this as double standards, the reality is that this is part of structural racism foundational to the political and legal system we have established in the aftermath of the Shoah. It is tragic that it is now being used to silence academic freedom and Palestinian stories and voices. This, we believe, epitomises the need for Radboud to build direct solidarity with Palestinian universities and individuals.

    Encourage Academic Freedom and End Academic Censorship

    When our discussion came to the issue of academic freedom, NFP has plenty to say. 

    Jihad: “We need to make it clear we are not antisemitic. To support Palestinians against Zionism is in no way antisemitic.”

    Since the recent rise in violence from October 7th onward, the world has seen tragic rises in both Islamophobia and antisemitism (Yang 2023). This rise in hate entails that activism and education are ever more crucial. Conversation is needed to help not only maintain a safe space for everyone, but to address the systemic problems we’re facing here; both in Islamophobia and antisemitism. 

    Mike: “As a Jewish person I feel very safe with the Palestinian solidarity movement. Antisemitism is just not part of the movement because people understand that they’re fighting against genocide.”

    The current silence on campus (except for the demonstrations of NFP) is seen as an issue. NFP’s demands state that: “We believe the university’s silence as this genocide unfolds has created a socially unsafe atmosphere that implicitly intimidates and suppresses our academic freedom.”

    The university must maintain appropriate safe spaces that facilitate dialogue and prevent hatred. They should not leave this in the hands of students and professors but take responsibility for the administration of the campus, as is their prerogative. When this is done, Radboud can support critical discussion on the war in Palestine. 

    Jihad: “Here in the Netherlands, news from a Palestinian perspective cannot be seen in the Dutch language – no way. You have to go to Al-Jazeera or something like that, to watch the real news, from the other perspective. All the Western media is just one perspective, so we need to break that illusion, ideally through education.”

    Conclusion

    In our interview, NFP outlined their four main demands for Radboud University:

    • End the neutral stance. 
    • Support the academic boycott of Israeli universities.
    • Build solidarity with Palestinian academia. 
    • Promote academic freedom over censorship.

    I join calls with NFP for our universities as democratic institutions to listen, to change and to act. Radboud cannot continue to stay silent and complicit with Israeli genocide in Palestine.

    NFP organises regular demonstrations, events and more. Information can be found on Instagram: @NijmegenforPalestine.

    More of Charlie’s articles can be found online at: https://charliehardsw.wixsite.com/politics.

  • Philosopher Abroad: Culturicide in the Shadows of the USSR

    Please be aware of a trigger warning for cultural genocide and war.


    The war in Ukraine is entering its 16th month, and the terrifyingly destructive battles show no sign of relenting. With the Russian army launching a slaughter in their ‘fraternal’ nation, other peoples of the former Soviet Union find themselves at odds with each other. I want to describe the differences in how the general public is reacting to the war.

    In order to illustrate my argument, I will draw from my experiences travelling across the former Soviet Union.[1] By giving you an illustration of the contrast between Kazakhstan and Lithuania, I hope to convince you that culture can be turned into a weapon of resistance, and that we must use culture as a weapon of resistance to support Ukraine. My three principal reasons are that it brings hope, it brings truth, and it embodies Ukrainian defiance itself.

    I am going to do this in two steps. Firstly, I will analyse how art and symbolism is valuable in times of war. Secondly, I am going to describe the contrast in art and symbolism in Kazakhstan and Lithuania to illustrate the merits and needs for the weaponisation of art and culture. I will focus on public, grass-roots artistic and cultural activism, as a way to engage in the war. I am talking about individuals and groups making public phenomena in solidarity with Ukraine.

    Throughout this paper, I refer to Russian fascism, or Ruscism. The use of the term fascism is not done lightly, and I justify this having studied Putin’s ideology and the ideology of the invasion. This includes, among other things: irredentism and a cult of violence, hyper-masculinity and authoritarianism, the denial of Ukraine as a national identity and the justification of ethnic cleansing. For Putin, this fascism ultimately justifies war because “we are one people” (Putin 2022).

    Culturicide, or cultural genocide, can be defined as a systematic destruction of a culture. It can take many forms but aims to undermine and root out national and cultural identities and specificities. It is widely seen as a war crime and a crime against humanity. My experiences have found that the way that some groups take a silent position in the face of culturicide is a dangerous precedent. To stay silent in the face of any form of culturicide or oppression is tantamount to complicity. I hope to convince you not be silent in the face of fascism of any form.

    Culture and Symbolism as Resistance

    In order to back up my argument that ordinary people should be showing signs of support for Ukraine, I will first discuss the value of art and culture in times of war. I maintain that art can be weaponised in three ways: it is a form of documentation, it can be weaponised in this war as a form of defiance itself, and because art and culture can bring solidarity and unity.

    Firstly, art and symbolism for Ukraine demonstrates solidarity. It is a binding agent that can unify peoples. Ukrainian art and culture are not only important motivators for the defence of the nation, but as a unifying factor it is also politically valuable. Like many national anthems, “Ukraine has not yet perished” has a role in binding peoples. This happened at Nijmegen4Ukraine demonstrations in March 2022, as an international crowd began to sing in Ukrainian, highlighting this power to bind people behind a common cause. But the ultimate power of cultural works like this is the use of a simple symbol to designate solidarity with a plight. For Ukrainians home and abroad, this is a powerful and hopeful message, albeit sad for the same reasons. As one Ukrainian told me: “[the symbols] make me smile. Because I know we’re not alone [which is important because] wars aren’t won alone anymore.”

    During a war of information, reality is distorted. Putin’s post-modern truth is a dangerous political technique to rewrite the histories of Ukraine, Russia and the war. Art and culture can depict history and events from either side and do a lot of work to spread the truth. This is the second way that art can serve in war: as an account of history. For this reason, Putin tries to destroy museums and cultural institutions, in order to re-write history, according to the Ruscist vision and the Russian World ideology. But art and culture can undo this disinformation, as it is the “material evidence of the existence of a culture” (The Canvas 2022, 4:34).

    One such attack on Ukrainian cultural institutions came in February 2022, when Russian bombing targeted a museum near Kyiv that housed the works of a celebrated Ukrainian folk artist, Mariia Prymachenko. As the building was engulfed in flames, a local man ran inside to save some of the art and managed to save 10 pieces (The Canvas 2022). Putin and Ruscists tried to destroy Prymachenko’s art because art has the power to embody a culture.

    The ideology behind the war is the denial of Ukrainian national identity. Subsequently through violent methods “all symbols of Ukrainian statehood have been methodically removed [in occupied territories] and a new Russian imperial identity imposed on the civilian population” (Dickinson 2022). Any manifestation of Ukrainian cultural identity is thus a rejection of the Ruscist ideology. Ukrainian art and culture are embodiments of resistance, in that their very existence represents a denial of Putin’s claim that Ukraine as a nation does not exist. This is why that man ran into the museum to save the art. Because the very existence of this artwork is an embodiment of defiance of Ruscist ideology. Mariia Prymachenko’s uniquely Ukrainian art is a testament to the very existence of Ukraine.

    The man who was willing to risk his life to save the art of Mariia Prymachenko did so for the resistance of Ukraine. Because art is more than just oil on canvas; it is culture. And in this fight against cultural cleansing, the disposition of art is itself an act of defiance.

    Lithuania

    The skyline in Lithuania has been transformed since the war; you cannot escape its impact. Lithuanians take the symbolic fight to Putin, and the messages of solidarity make me feel inspired. But I strongly feel Lithuanian artistic activism is something we should emulate.

    Lithuania’s public activism has become a weapon of information, trying to directly combat the narrative pushed by Moscow. Vilnius tries to dispel the falsified Russian propaganda. One striking example of this is the huge billboard on a skyscraper testifying ‘Putin, the Hague is waiting for you.’ Long before any international court sentenced Putin, Lithuanians were making their feelings known about the culturicide in Ukraine.

    Or another example is 1K fund, a private, 100% volunteer-driven activist group. Their mission statement says:

    “Our third field of interest is information warfare. We conduct public relations campaigns that combat Russian misinformation and help us gather donations for the fund.” (1Kfund.org)

    Lithuanians are directly contradicting the disinformation disseminated in Russia. They are providing as much sport as possible for the defence of Ukraine in the name of the defence against fascism. Through cultural and artistic activities in public spaces, Lithuanians are taking the fight on information to the Russians. They do not sit idly by but take a firm anti-fascist narrative.

    A second key feature of Lithuanian pro-Ukraine activism is unwavering solidarity. With the constant presence of activism, Lithuanian public society clearly signals its support and determination to help. This has many positive impacts. For example, it provides space for public grieving and trauma recognition. It increases awareness and boosts dialogue. It can even begin to humanise the conflict. But most of all, it provides hope through solidarity.

    Furthermore, I believe that this solidarity has a positive impact on donation for support through grass-roots fundraisers and public events. Lithuania has one of the highest ratios of GDP to donation to Ukraine ratio in the world (Statista Research Department 2023) and is often linked to cultural and artistic movements like Radarom that provide Ukraine with vital equipment. I have found that the omnipresence of Ukrainian symbolism boosts a sentiment of solidarity, but also seems to be helping with vital contributions.

    A final valuable part of Lithuanian artistic activism is how it is producing Ukrainian culture and expression. Since the war, many Ukrainians have fled to Lithuania, and this is producing a vibrant diaspora. By providing a space for this cultural expression, Lithuania helps Ukrainians abroad live their nationhood, and in a sense, embody resistance against Ruscism.

    These intercultural projects among Ukrainians in Lithuania represent the embodiment of the resistance to the Ruscist ideology. By producing Ukrainian culture, you defy the claim that Ukrainian culture does not exist. It is through the display and the creation of new and old symbols of Ukrainian culture and resistance that art becomes a weapon in this war.

    Kazakhstan and Ukraine

    By contrast, public spaces in Kazakhstan almost never exhibit public symbols of solidarity. During my four months in the cultural capital, I saw one Ukrainian flag. There is an atmosphere of wilful blindness, of solicited ignorance. While there are some interactions with Ukraine on a state level, there is almost a complete lack of ostensive pro-Ukraine artistic culture. This section focuses on this neutrality in the face of culturicide in Ukraine.

    My first point about art in war, concerns documentation. In Kazakhstan, the absence of interaction with the war in Ukraine means that Russian media has increased power among the populace in Kazakhstan. Consequently, the Ruscist narrative on the war has a greater impact on society.

    During my conversations and interactions, I have noticed a disturbing reluctance to even mention the war. When I have mentioned it, I feel like I tripped a mine. Fear of upsetting others, a perception of being unable to understand complex political issues and feeling too uneducated are recurring excuses that seem to stifle public debate surrounding the war and Ukraine. This pervasive tradition of silence, perhaps in part due to the generations of Soviet oppression and the subsequent suppressive effect on political engagement (Zhukov 2018), means that politics seems to occur around people. Kazakh society seems to allow Moscow to control the political narratives.

    Indicatively, people tend to use delicate language to describe the war, such as “circumstances” or “situation.” Even my university professors called it a “military operation.” This kind of delicate language, stemming from a neutral position, tends to avoid explicit claims about the war, because it is essentially silence. But that silence plays into the hands of Russia, because not only does it fail to recognise the culturicide occurring, but because of the continued influence of Russian media in Kazakhstan today. Moscow’s pro-war narrative has a pervasive effect on public opinion, especially among Russian speakers (Kumenov 2022), who constitute around 95% of the population. This evidence suggests that by staying neutral, Kazakhstan is vulnerable to the fascist ideology pushed by Russia. Thus, we can see how the official line of neutrality has dangerous consequences in Kazakhstan. Through this passivity, Astana allows Moscow to put their lens on current affairs, and the silence of their neutrality creates an eerie indifference towards the war crimes in Ukraine.

    Secondly, the general reluctance to anger Russia means that Kazakhstan’s neutrality allows for the Russian war economy to continue to fire, which could endanger Western support. And this has a damaging effect on hope. Kazakh society has an understandable fear of Russian aggression. The relationship between Astana and Moscow is deep and complicated, and the centuries of history mean their peoples are close, with Astana very much at the whim of Putin. This I have found evidence of during my interviews and discussions with Kazakh people here in Almaty. There is an understandable motivation behind this since Kazakhstan is economically dependent on Russia, does not benefit from the security of NATO, and has received threats from their former colonial overlord. This fear promotes a policy of placating their northern neighbour.

    The policy of placating by staying neutral benefits Russia because it allows for the continued mechanisation of the post-soviet integrated economy. This could endanger long-term Western support for Ukraine because the economic cost of such support is growing in the face of an ever-operative Russian war machine. Operative in part thanks to ‘neutral’ states enabling the evasion of sanctions (Burna-Asefi 2022). What this means, then, is that the war will draw on. Ukraine will liberate all of its territories, but the question is when, and at what cost. As long as Kazakhstan and other nations stay silent, they prolong the bloodshed.

    Finally, by ignoring culturicide, Kazakh society has a tendency to legitimise the destruction of national identity in Ukraine. I say this because the indifference towards the destruction of another, while deeply treasuring one’s own culture, implicitly makes a value judgement on these two different cultures. I think Kazakhstan can be described as a fairly nationalistic and patriotic country. There is no shortage of flags here, and people are rightfully proud of their identity. But for Ukraine, there are no flags, no symbols of solidarity, despite the fact that the evidence of the destruction of Ukrainian culture and nationhood is widespread (Dickinson 2022). Yet, many in Kazakhstan refuse to publicly criticise this; according to a poll in November 2022, 95% of respondents claims to be neutral to the war (Dumoulin 2023). This is seen in the lack of symbolism of solidarity for Ukraine through artistic expression in public spaces.

    Kazakhstan’s passionate nationalism and pride of its own culture, while silently witnessing the destruction of another, implies a lack of egality between these cultures. This norm of favouring one culture while ignoring the extermination of another culture creates a dangerous precedent of value judgement toward the ‘cultural other.’ It is by ignoring the culturicide, while propagating your own nationalism, that you normalise the destruction of what could only be, according to this logic, a lesser culture.

    To conclude my findings on Kazakhstan, I have identified that on the superficial level, the society generally forms a neutral perception. I had an interesting conversation with a taxi driver, and in response to my asking why there are no flags of Ukraine here, he stated that the Kazakh people are vehemently against the war. And I believe him. But my point is that the surface paints a different picture. The streets seem silent in the face of culturicide in Ukraine.

    Conclusion

    It is easy during a violent conflict to ignore the value of non-violent resistance, especially when what Ukraine needs most is military and material equipment. But the importance of solidarity should not be forgotten.

    I have tried to illustrate one difference that I have found during my year abroad, and the disturbing effects of the war in Ukraine. Kazakhstan and Lithuania are, of course, wildly different societies, and I would not suggest that Lithuanians are in any way inherently better than Kazakh people. And as I have stated, I am aware that Kazakh people support Ukraine in the conflict. It is true that neutrality and solidarity towards culturicide are not opposites. Meanwhile, the difference between neutrality and solidarity should not be understated. One of the problems of this neutrality is that it enables the continuation of Russian fascism.

    Aimé Césaire, writing about Imperialism and Colonialism in the 20th century, argued that those who passively allow for the bureaucratic machine to continue, are responsible in part for the violence done (Césaire 1972, 54). This is because this system of exploitation and fascism required a hoard of unquestioning and obedient civil servants to keep the wheels turning. While Ruscism and European Colonialism are a far cry from one another, it is through this same mechanism of the obedient or ‘neutral’ performance of functions that the violence continues. As one Ukrainian respondent wrote, there is no such thing as neutrality; you cannot hide in the shadows. And this is necessary for any of the intersections of fascism. Silence is violence.

    If you want to donate, use the following link: https://stipruskartu.lt/.

    Слава Україні!


    Bibliography

    Burna-Asefi, Sophia Nina. 2023. “Just Passing Through: Kazakhstan’s Parallel Trade Predicament.” The Diplomat. 27th February 2023. https://thediplomat.com/2023/02/just-passing-through-kazakhstans-parallel-trade-predicament/

    Césaire, Aimé. [1950] 1972. Discourse on Colonialism. Joan Pinkham (trans.). New York: Monthly Review Press.

    Dickinson, Peter. 2022. “Vladimir Putin’s Ukrainian Genocide: Nobody can claim they did not know”. 1st December 2022. Washington, US: Atlantic Council. https://www.atlanticcouncil.org/blogs/ukrainealert/vladimir-putins-ukrainian-genocide-nobody-can-claim-they-did-not-know/.

    Dumoulin, Marie. 2023. “Steppe Change: How Russia’s War on Ukraine is Reshaping Kazakhstan.” European Council on Foreign Relations. https://ecfr.eu/publication/steppe-change-how-russias-war-on-ukraine-is-reshaping-kazakhstan/.

    Kumenov, Almaz. 2022. “Kazakhstan: Survey finds solid support for Russia, but mostly among Russian speakers.” Eurasianet. New York: Harriman Institute. https://eurasianet.org/kazakhstan-survey-finds-solid-support-for-russia-but-mostly-among-russian-speakers.

    Putin, Vladimir. 2022. “Here’s the Full Translation of Vladimir Putin’s Victory Day Speech.” Bloomberg News. 9th May 2022. https://www.bloomberg.com/news/articles/2022-05-09/full-transcript-here-s-russian-president-vladimir-putin-s-victory-day-speech.

    Statista Research Department. 2023. “Total bilateral aid commitments to Ukraine as a percentage of donor gross domestic product (GDP) between January 24, 2022 and January 15, 2023, by country.” 23rd February 2023. https://www.statista.com/statistics/1303450/bilateral-aid-to-ukraine-in-a-percent-of-donor-gdp/.

    The Canvas. 2022. “Maria Prymachenko, Ukraine & Art as a Factor in War.” YouTube Video. Uploaded 18th March 2022. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1unsnhztCW8&ab_channel=TheCanvas.

    Zhukov, Yuri M. and Roya Talibova. 2018. “Stalins Terror and the Long-Term Effects of Mass Repression.” In Journal of Peace Research: 55, 2: 267-283. Thousand Oaks, CA: Sage Publications, Ltd.

    1Kfund.org. 2023. “About 1K Fund.” Accessed 21st May 2023. https://1kfund.org/.


    [1] This article has been written with the assistance of students and experts in Lithuania, Ukraine, Kazakhstan, and Russia. Most of them wish to remain anonymous. I am grateful to all of them.

  • De prestatiemaatschappij – dat ben jij?

    In het kader van 50 jaar Splijtstof reflecteren we in deze editie op hoe het studentenbestaan in de afgelopen decennia is veranderd. Hoe wordt er tegenwoordig tegen studenten aangekeken? Wat karakteriseert het studentenleven van vandaag?

    Er is een onderwerp dat de hedendaagse studententijd als geen ander bepaalt: studentenwelzijn. Dat staat namelijk onder druk. Tijdens de coronapandemie kwam het welzijn van studenten terecht enorm in de aandacht te staan, maar serieuze problemen bestonden al langer. Want vóór alle narigheid rondom eenzaamheid en het leven op een veel te dure kamer van 13 vierkante meter, die ook nog eens te gebrekkig internet heeft om die zoommeeting te kunnen volgen, was er al één en ander aan de hand. Burn-outs, perfectionisme, keuzestress, zorgen om hoge cijfers, zorgen om studieschulden, zorgen om studievertraging, zorgen om een goed CV, zorgen om… Kortom: studenten vandaag de dag dreigen aan prestatiedruk ten onder te gaan.

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  • Some Afterthoughts

    “Without this restlessness, there is no progress”

    Aleksandra Kollontai, 1928

    Friday, 3 June 2022, was the date of a remarkable event. On the occasion of her retirement, Veronica Vasterling had set up a meeting during which, in a first-round, younger staff members of our faculty gave a total of six presentations. They addressed, among others, the persistent phenomena of sexism, racism, elitism and classism, as well as paying attention to eurocentrism, both of the canon and the curriculum, and to the recent deplorable, but also highly instructive episode around topics of ‘social safety’. Next, there was space for questions and discussion, also with and by the ‘older’ staff members who, initially, had formed a silent audience. It was, to my mind, a very good idea to let younger faculty speak first, if only because this really forced older persons such as myself to listen. In this sense alone, we all owe Veronica a big thank you!

    During the meeting, I kept silent, not so much because I had nothing to say, but rather because I did not feel entitled. That said, it should also be noted that I had too many things to think about first. The recent ‘chapter’ in the history of social unsafety has shocked and disturbed me as it has many others, also since, with a history (with interruptions) of some forty-five years at this faculty, I have ample experience with a wide variety of inappropriate and – in a number of cases – unacceptable behavior by staff members. That the long list of cases, the by now infamous twenty-nine, covers several decades, is strongly varied and includes cases of subtle or not-so-subtle bullying, inappropriate remarks concerning somebody’s looks, and of exclusion from discussions. All serious, but not equally so. Besides, there is no ground to believe that other faculties, at Radboud or elsewhere, have been faring much better or worse than this one – which can be regarded both as good or as bad news. In either case, there is still, to use the Dutch saying, “werk aan de winkel”.

    It is important to address and remedy, harder than has been done so far, recognizable forms of unsafety without jumping to the romantic illusion of an environment in which ‘everybody can feel safe’. There is, due to our finitude, vulnerability and fragility as humans, a bottom-line unsafety that is simply an ineradicable part of the human condition, a fact that we better look in the eye than try to ignore. As Judith Shklar put it: “To be alive is to be afraid, […],” adding, however, that

    [T]he fear we fear is of pain inflicted by others to kill and maim us, not the natural and healthy fear that merely warns us of avoidable pain. And, when we think politically, we are afraid not only for ourselves, but for our fellow citizens as well.[1. Judith N. Shklar, ‘The Liberalism of Fear,’ in: Political Thought and Political Thinkers (University of Chicago Press: 1998), 11.]

    The question is whether we can easily distinguish between avoidable and unavoidable fear or, in this case, the unsafety causing it. Uncertainty, insecurity and precarity are not unpleasant side-effects but rather core elements of a late-capitalist society with its neoliberal hegemonic ideology: the logic of opportunities and risks, the split between winners and losers, the dynamics of atomization and responsibilization, the benchmark of win-win (as it were the invisible hand made mensurable), etc. Surely, such a society is contingent, hence avoidable, and it can and should be replaced by a different one. Still, it is important to distinguish between the systemic inequality and unsafety that stem from the present socio-economic and political system at large and the avoidable and reproachable forms of inappropriate behavior within that system that are not only unacceptable in their own right, but also hamper longer-term objectives: fearful people are not prone to think or act politically.

    This is why we learn most from those who did and do think and act in spite of fear. This applies to philosophy generally and to political philosophy in particular. It is far from accidental that, in Western political philosophy, people of Jewish background play such a key role. Suffice it to mention the names of Hannah Arendt, Michael Walzer, Simone Weil, Semyon Frank, Ayn Rand, Isaiah Berlin, Judith Shklar, and Claude Lefort, all of whom were either direct targets of persecution, anti-Semitism, and totalitarianism, or descendants of such targets. Walzer wrote, in the Preface to On Toleration, “As an American Jew, I grew up thinking of myself as an object of toleration. It was only much later that I recognized myself as a subject too, an agent called upon to tolerate others, […]”. [2. Michael Walzer, On Toleration (New Haven & London: Yale UP: 1997), xi.] Personally, I am convinced that Walzer’s situatedness as someone who had reason to be fearful of not being tolerated (if you doubt this, read Philip Roth’s The Plot Against America), or had a family history of not being tolerated, greatly helped him in “thinking politically” (the apt title of a collection of essays by the same Walzer). It is only the privileged who can afford to think apolitically.

    For me personally, i.e. as a white, male, highly-educated, Caucasian (the euphemism for ‘Aryan’ that is now spreading in Dutch society), heterosexual, European, non-handicapped person with full citizenship and a non-suspect family name, who thus happens to be on the ‘safe’ side of all lines of inequality that divide present-day society, this implies philosophical modesty, including the acknowledgement that this indeed happens to be the case. Being ‘part of the problem’ objectively can, if understood and appropriated, subjectively become part of the solution, as some famous earlier philosophers understood:

    Just as […] at an earlier period, a section of the nobility went over to the bourgeoisie, so now a portion of the bourgeoisie goes over to the proletariat, and in particular, a portion of the bourgeois ideologists, who have raised themselves to the level of comprehending theoretically the historical movement as a whole. [Wie daher früher ein Teil des Adels zur Bourgeoisie überging, so geht jetzt ein Teil der Bourgeoisie zum Proletariat über, und namentlich ein Teil der Bourgeoisideologen, welche zum theoretischen Verständnis der ganzen geschichtlichen Bewegung sich hinaufgearbeitet haben. [3. Karl Marx, Friedrich Engels, Manifest der Kommunistischen Partei (Berlin [DDR], Dietz Verlag, MEW 4), 471-2; idem, The Portable Karl Marx [ed. Eugene Kamenka], 215.]

    Far from comparing myself with those classics, the same logic is at play in what is happening right now. There are, however, two differences: the statement applies to any kind of struggle, not only class struggle, and also it remains true if we drop the idea of ‘a whole historical movement’: the point is that class, race, gender etc. equality are conceptually inevitable, irrespective of how history develops. This does not exclude the possibility of major setbacks, which are now taking place in many parts of the world, nor does it exclude the permanence of struggle and discussion: complacency and self-righteousness are among the cardinal political sins.

    It is, therefore, not hard to see how political philosophy as a discipline can only progress if it aligns itself with those who, as it was said of Enrique Dussel, (dare to) think “from the underside of history”,[4. Linda Martín Alcoff and Eduardo Mendieta (eds.), Thinking from the Underside of History (Lanham &c: Rowman & Littlefield, 2000).] aware of the truth expressed by Reinhart Koselleck: “Even if history is made – in the short term – by the victorious, cognitive historical gains come – in the long term – from the defeated [Mag die Geschichte – kurzfristig – von den Siegern gemacht werden, die historischen Erkenntnisgewinne stammen – langfristig – von den Besiegten].”[5. Reinhart Koselleck, Zeitschichten; Studien zur Historik (Frankfurt am Main: Suhrkamp Verlag, 2000), 68.] To which one should add that the defeated are rarely defeated forever, which is both bad and good news. Once one adopts this perspective, thinking along politically from the underside of society, from the subaltern, from the bonded rather than the lords, from the part of no part, one can discover such gems as Gayatri Spivak’s analysis of Hegel’s “benevolent” yet deeply paternalistic attempt to give the Indian “mind / spirit [Geist]” its place in world history,[6. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, A Critique of Postcolonial Reason (Cambridge & London: Harvard UP, 1999), 37-45.] or one can start to understand why Achille Mbembe’s recent work on necropolitics and politics of enmity is so instructive, in part, because he is writing “from Africa”.[7. Achille Mbembe, Politiques de l’inimitié (Paris: La Découverte, 2018) and Necropolitics (Duke UP, 2019). In Dutch : Een politiek van vijandschap (Amsterdam: Boom, 2017).] The field I feel most confident in myself, political philosophy in Russia, is interesting in this regard precisely because it is torn by the contrast between a strong sense of inferiority to and submission by a culturally colonizing West while, at the same, militantly claiming its own emancipatory, even missionary potential and, simultaneously, not being able to deal with its own colonizing past. How torn can you be…[8. See my Russian Political Philosophy; Anarchy, Authority, Autocracy (Edinburgh UP, 2022).]

    One way or another, there is every reason to address, again and again, the aforementioned phenomena – sexism, racism, et cetera – because they concern us all. As Anya Topolski aptly put it, we want to have a safe faculty in order to have brave ‘classrooms’, where a wide variety of points of view can be discussed and critically scrutinized, which is what philosophy is all about. Address them again: one thing that struck me during that particular Friday afternoon was that much of it was highly reminiscent of, at times verbatim identical to discussions and struggles that I have been witness and participant of in the past when I was a student at this same faculty. There are differences, too, one of them being that, at the time, the philosophy faculty of the then Catholic University of Nijmegen was one of the places of radical, critical discussion in the midst of a society that seemed, to us at least, lagging way behind, whereas now these discussions are all over the place in many societies and the racist, supremacist, sexist etc. positions are in the defensive corner of the arena — hurt though not defeated.

    The period I am referring to is the late 1970s and early 1980s, when this faculty housed, as it does today, many politically aware students and several ‘supportive’ members of staff. However, during that period, the university was organized in a much more democratic way than it is now, and time schedules were less tight, which created a space for both politics and philosophy now hard to imagine. This equally affected curriculum and staff, and it also concerned topics like feminist and non-Western philosophical thought. To give two examples: one of the lecturers at the time, Ton Lemaire, included non-Western thinkers in his courses, for example, Frantz Fanon. This occasioned us, as students, to start an extra-curricular reading group that, apart from Fanon, focused on Che Guevara, Paolo Freire, Ivan Illich and Mao Zedong.[9. The basis for that activity was an edited volume by Hans Achterhuis, Filosofen van de derde wereld (Baarn: Ambo, 1975).] Indeed, as the reader will not fail to notice, they were all men, as were the members of the reading group. Luckily, however, the relentless effort of a group of female students, who found support among students and staff, led to the appointment of a lecturer in – as it was called at the time – “women’s studies in philosophy”, Rina van der Haegen, whose brilliant course introduced us to the confronting and eye-opening work of Luce Irigaray and others. Unfortunately, her teaching did not become part of the mandatory curriculum – its status remained similar to present-day courses in intercultural philosophy. Even more, unfortunately, Van der Haegen’s untimely death meant the end of her presence at our faculty.

    This brief memoir is not to suggest a déjà vu, nor is it about nostalgia. Quite the opposite: I am among those who welcome the revival of these debates and also among those who have tried to do something with them in their work as academic philosophers. In fact, if I look back, those two topics, non-Western philosophy and feminist philosophy, have remained on the retina of several members of staff, including myself. Including other philosophers in one’s teaching than the stereotypical ‘canonical’ dead white European / Western men has become a matter of course. In my case, this includes thinkers like, obviously, Hannah Arendt, but also Nancy Fraser, Kwame Gyekye, Chantal Mouffe, Cornel West, Aleksandra Kollontai, Souleymane Bachir Diagne and Wendy Brown. With living authors, this is relatively easy, but when it comes to earlier periods, it can be more difficult: standard resources like Marit Rullmann’s two-volume Philosophinnen or Ursula I. Meyer’s four-volume Die Welt der Philosophin have not been translated into either English or Dutch, and the excellent Dutch overview by, among others, Veronica Vasterling, contains mostly fragments.[10. Marit Rullmann (Hrsg.), Philosophinnen; 2 Bände (Berlin: Suhrkamp, 1998); Ursula I. Meyer, Die Welt der Philosophin; 4 Bände (Aachen: ein-FACH-verlag, 1995-1998); Carolien Ceton (hoofdred.), Ineke van der Burg, Annemie Halsema, Karen Vintges, Veronica Vasterling (red.), Vrouwelijke filosofen; een historisch overzicht (Amsterdam & Antwerpen, Atlas Contact, 2017).] Other than Western philosophical traditions are often transmitted orally rather than in written form, and translations are not always reliable, which also limits access.

    Surely, it is always possible, and also desirable, to do more in these fields. Moreover, these changes only take place as a result of permanent ‘peer pressure’ and they come with a dose of excess — it’s too easy to slip back into comfortable old-European habits. At the same time, one also has to feel competent: my own field of non-Western philosophy, i.e., Russian philosophy, constantly reminds me of the non-self-evident nature of such competence, and one should avoid, to my mind, benevolent amateurism. It may, therefore, take a while before we get completely rid of the situation in which non-European or non-male philosophers ‘also’ get some attention, as if they were some kind of ‘extra’ (Annabelle Dufourcq’s point) or appendix.

    This takes me to a positive note. Despite the striking similarities between the discussions of the 1970s and those of the present day, a lot has changed, not only in curricula but also in the composition of faculties. It will be a matter of time until we can no longer imagine philosophy without the names of, say, Judith Butler and Donna Haraway. For many among us, this already is the case. Besides, less than ten years ago, the department where I work consisted of six staff members whose main difference from the canonical white European male philosophers was that we were still alive. Now, the department has a female head, a fair gender balance, and has become more diverse in many respects. This cannot fail to have effects on the curriculum and on the ways in which people relate to each other and to students. A completely ‘socially safe’ environment is surely an illusion, but increasing diversity implies distribution of unsafety itself and a situation in which nobody can feel immune is anyway preferable. This may also contribute to putting an end to sexism, racism, and other -isms, both at the faculty and, through students in particular, in society more broadly. Finally, the meeting set up by Veronica was attended by an audience that, forty years ago, would have simply been unthinkable. It was said, at one point, that full professors should do more about these matters — I counted nine of them in total, one-third of the silent audience. I also counted, among the audience, both the current, the previous and one past dean of our faculty. Again, this cannot remain without effect — not least of all because the audience did remain silent so that the younger generation was listened to and heard.

    Yet, to end on a negative note, there is one thing which disturbs me, and that made me think of the well-known debate between Nancy Fraser and Axel Honneth about recognition vs redistribution (in which I side with Fraser).[11. Nancy Fraser, Axel Honneth, Umverteilung oder Anerkennung? (Frankfurt a.M.: Suhrkamp, 2003) / Redistribution or Recognition (London & New York: Verso, 2003).] During his intervention, Simon Gusman addressed the issue of classism, which is certainly an important topic at a university with so many first-generation students and also a recognizable topic for someone who, like myself, comes from a lower middle-class background (with peasant ancestors), and who, moreover, could not fall back on a shared Catholic identity. However, the problem is not classism itself but socio-economic inequality covered up by classism. What disturbs me, therefore, is not the attention paid to class, sex, gender, race, et cetera, but the emphasis on -isms, which, in my understanding, are the variegated forms of legitimization of much more material differences. Sexism is not just a matter of bad male attitudes; it is also about socio-economic conditions, glass ceilings, care facilities, unequal pay, etc. Racism is not simply a matter of some people thinking they are superior to other people; it is also about rights, housing, jobs, and resources. Such -isms are often already of a defensive character, those positions have already lost all credibility, and the Jordanites (reference is to Jordan Peterson) of this world already know they are fighting a lost battle. There is no good reason to just mimic their emphasis on recognition and constructed identities. In fact, I think there is every reason not to mimic it, to partly shift the focus and to acknowledge that politics of recognition and identity is a diversion if it forgets about redistribution. There is no battle without losses, just as there is no change without excess. Undoing real-life injustice requires power and politics, not just talk or noble idea(l)s.

    Therefore, I fully agree with Annabelle Dufourcq that an ‘ideal’ faculty would be everything but ideal, implying that a claim to be an ideal faculty that has fixed all major issues would be a case of ideology. I think this also is so because a faculty is not an isolated entity but part of a much wider socio-economic and political, and even ecological, reality that it reflects and that it can have an impact on by addressing it critically. I am not suggesting a neo-Marxist economism here: Marxism has been rightly accused of a tendency to reduce all struggle to class struggle. Yet, present-day philosophy may have swayed too far in the opposite direction. As Rahel Jaeggi, after quoting Max Horkheimer, recently put it:

    My sense is we haven’t yet arrived at a conception that would be wide enough, and part of the tendency to abandon the topic of capitalism comes from this “fear of economism” that we’ve been internalizing since the early days of the Frankfurt School.[12. Nancy Fraser, Rahel Jaeggi, Capitalism; A Conversation in Critical Theory (Cambridge: Polity, 2018), 8.]

    Our starting point has to be the question not if, but how an exclusive focus on inclusion, identity, and recognition, as well as an emphasis on the plethora of -isms, is part of the reproduction of the existing order of things. Indeed, to end with a phrase by Veronica, a faculty is not about coziness. It is about struggle, and a faculty is one out of many arenas. Ideally, a faculty does foster friendly relations, yet friendship is never about friendship itself but about something ‘out there’ in a torn and twisted world that, to vary Peter Berger, is “as ferociously political as it ever was”.

  • “The Social Safety Care Club”

    On the 7th of October 2021, four of my fellow students (Annabel, Hanna, Luka and Anneloes) and I, decided to found what would soon be called the Social Safety Care Club, or in short: SSCC. It all started in what may be familiar to any (ex-)Radboud student reading this, our beloved Culture Café. Cozily seated in the big brown chairs, sipping a hot beverage of choice, we discussed an issue close to all of our hearts: social safety. Now, already a few months later, I was asked to write down our motivations for starting this club.

    We noticed that many of us had experienced something in relation to social safety – or rather unsafety – or had some concerns about the topic in general. Sharing our own thoughts and experiences that day was, to say the least, a relief. Finding each other, on equal footing as students, and being able to freely share and reach out, took a bit of weight off our shoulders. In that moment we realized that something very valuable was happening, something that we wanted to facilitate for a bigger part of the student population at our faculty.

    (meer…)