“We Are All Children of Algeria”

This is the name of an online multi-media project that I made in collaboration with design intellectuals Craig Dietrich and Erik Loyer that went live today. The project looks at how to decolonize visuality; or, to put it affirmatively, how to visualize a society after colonialism. It uses the central example of Algeria and its decolonial struggle from 1954 to the Arab Spring. Here I want to talk a bit about how this project both laid the ground for my involvement with the Occupy movement and for the shape that Occupy 2012 has taken since. While this is a tad narcissistic, this is a blog a) and b) there might be relevance for other people thinking of taking on similar work.

In this project, “Algeria” is also a metaphor for the contested border between North and South in the formation of financial globalization and thus exists in many places other than the geographic space known in English as Algeria, in French as Alger and in Arabic as al-Djazair. In the book, I wove a tight narrative that tried to hold these pieces together across about forty pages. When I came to make this section into a digital project, I thought it would be a simple task: cut the text into pieces and add the films, photographs and other images.

At the first meeting I had in LA with the Alliance for Networking Visual Culture, which designed the software used for “We Are All Children of Algeria, they asked me a  question that threw all that out of the window: how did I want to design the project? What was the concept? I didn’t think I had one but I found myself saying that it was about a demonstration. Or what is called a march in the US. This was, it turned out, what you might call a retrospective realization about where the work was actually going.

So I took the title from chants used at French anti-fascist marches that I had been on as a student in Paris back in the 1980s. As part of solidarity, crowds chanted “Nous sommes tous enfants d’immigrés” or “We are all children of immigrants.” French anti-fascism was not notional: then and now the National Front were racist and violent. Their targets were “Algerians,” meaning any person who is from or descended from North Africa–or in any way sympathetic to them.

When I began the project in the summer and autumn of 2010, I felt that I needed to justify the very idea of marching, or simply putting bodies into public space, as not being totally outmoded. Now of course it seems that this tactic, far from being redundant, has been key first to the extraordinary movements in North Africa and the Middle East and now to Occupy. So that in and of itself seemed to prepare me for Occupy and to be part of the movement.

Although I got involved fairly early, I at first felt that I did not want to make academic work about Occupy at all. When I decided that as part of a strategy to develop my own sense of commitment and understanding that I did want to write about it, I took the performative or artistic model of the durational project, rather than just say “I’m writing [yet another] book about Occupy.” I wouldn’t have done that before thinking how to make a digital project.

It’s also enabled me to do something to the way that I write, which, when it works, seems now to be able to speak to both activists and academics. Again, I say this not to claim some spurious status for myself but to encourage other, younger artists, writers, performers and intellectuals to embrace the challenges of such cross-platform projects. As this way of thinking and imagining is so much more familiar to you, you will do far more exciting and ground-breaking things than I can conceive.

There’s so much lazy reluctance in academia to be involved with either the intellectual or political forms of the present moment. I can count the other (full-time tenure track) faculty that I see at Occupy events or meetings where they are not speaking–well, let’s just say easily. On the other hand, the design and programming group involved in ANVC are all in different ways productive intellectuals and engaged activists. Enough said.

 

Mindful Occupation

The name of this post is also that of community of radical mental health activists. Funded by Kickstarter, they have produced a new publication called Rising Up Without Burning Out. The project seeks to direct the movement’s attention to the normative mental health standards that police the boundaries of the social, to challenge those norms, and to think about how the movement should care for itself. It made me think about the sustaining of the movement, about the history of radical movements and radical mental health, and some lessons that these histories might provide for our “mindful occupation.”

Radical mental health differs from standard psychiatry in not seeing people as divided into “normal” and “pathological” mental states. The American Psychiatric Association, meeting this weekend in Philadelphia, produces the massive Diagnostic and Statistical Manual containing thousands of conditions and diseases for which the extensive pharmacopeia of psychotropic drugs can be prescribed. It’s huge business from the $500 an hour consults to the billion dollar annual revenues of drugs like Celexa and Lexapro.

By contrast, radical mental health first sees a person, not a set of brain chemicals or even, for those who can afford therapy, sets of personal histories, but as a place of

convergence of social, emotional, cultural, physical, spiritual, historical and environmental elements….We don’t have to see ourselves as separate beings, but rather in terms of relationships.

It would remind us that psychiatry classified “homosexuality” as a mental disease as recently as 1973 and that gender-queer and trans people still have to negotiate the psychiatric diagnostic mill. Going further back, there was actually a so-called disease that afflicted the enslaved in the U.S. known as “drapetomania”: the compulsion to run away.

In almost all other cultures, alter conditions of mental health have been afforded respect as part of the sacred, a gift of divination, as contact with spirit worlds, or as possessors of “dangerous gifts.” One mark of the modern “West” is its designation of such people as “insane,” requiring treatment and restraint. Our isolating and cash-mediated society clearly produces the multiple symptoms of depression, bipolar disorder and schizophrenia that it then medicates into passivity. That does not mean that people do not suffer and experience intense personal difficulties. At the same time, Occupy people are widely called crazy, obsessed, lazy and degenerate–all forms of mental health diagnosis. Evidence of this was claimed to be the prevalence of people in need that were attracted to the encampments and whose behavior did not change when they were there.

As Mindful Occupation points out, one occasion when medications can be helpful is when a person’s symptoms have gone unaddressed for a long period, like those who made their way to Liberty and other encampments. They also describe how people sleeping outside are likely to become sleep-deprived due to discomfort, light and noise–to say nothing of the cops. As sleep deprivation is widely recognized as a form of torture, it is not surprising that one simple way to mitigate symptoms may be to help the person get sleep, which may require sleep aids. Much of the pamphlet consists of sensible and practical ways to sustain ourselves without “burning out,” that combination of exhaustion and depression which has been a little in evidence post May Day.

Understanding the production of mental illness as a disciplinary mechanism of hierarchical societies has long been a feature of decolonial and radical movements but it has not been prominent in the Occupy movement. Perhaps the very claim to have a more rational understanding of political economy and the crisis in some way precludes it. Looking back at some earlier instances of anti-psychiatry can suggest what there might be to gain by developing such a project.

Working as a psychiatrist in colonial Algeria, the Caribbean radical Frantz Fanon enacted what were then untried therapies in his hospital at Blida. At the time, colonial psychiatry held that Algerians were, to quote a 1952 textbook a

primitive people [that] cannot and should not benefit from the advances of European civilization.

Fanon decolonized his building by allowing everyday North African activities to happen as normal, meaning here also as if they were normal, in contrast to the French presumption they were not. There was a café, a newspaper and even a mosque for people in therapy. The traditional segregation between “patients” and “medical staff” was ended, with everyone eating together. Fanon even ran a cinema evening.

The creation of this “safer space” was without precedent in colonial Algeria. When the revolution began in 1954, it was attributed by the leading colonial psychiatrist to “xenophobia against the occupying race.” Fanon had to leave for Tunis, where he created a clinic for Algerian refugees that made use of visualization techniques for children that are now regarded as standard.

Drawing made by an Algerian child in Fanon's Tunis clinic 1961

The drawings show violence, even torture. While some were typical child’s drawings as above, others were more experimental as in this cutout

Cut out showing searches and torture

The point here is two-fold. What can seem extremely radical in one moment can come appear entirely unremarkable not long afterwards: the idea that children’s drawings are therapeutic and reveal the source of their trauma is now a Hollywood cliché, after all. At the same time, Fanon’s clinic was militant only in its acceptance of the right of those he worked with to choose their own everyday experience over one that was expected of them.

Lecturing in Tunis, Fanon described those classified as insane as

the ‘stranger’ to society..an anarchistic element.

In this view, the psychiatrist worked as “the auxiliary of police” in these situations. Fanon sought to create a “sociotherapy”:

a society in the hospital itself.

What matters, then, is that Occupy create a validating form of the social that allows the anarchic to remain anarchic by means of enacting our own everyday. That’s why mutual aid, food, education and other such axes of every day sustaining have been so vital to the movement. None of these should be institutionalized, even the occupation tactic, until we can decolonize them.