PTSD

Better dead than Red and other stories of communism, terrorism and football

How's that for a title, eh? I have always fancied writing a book. No matter that my discussant here told me last week that I write "with very little style" (apparently that is a compliment), I have always wanted to write a book. Well, hopefully, in the next two years or so, I will have a book (the blasted PhD, you know) but I want to write a proper book. A children's book. Or at least a book of horror stories for children.

I have been thinking of this in the past week after my seminar. One of the criticisms was that I was taking an amoral stance, one that saw terrorism and (potential) communism as benign and non powerful and that was wrong. My insistence that I am trying to describe how these issues came to receive priority in world affairs (well, terrorism, in my case. Though communism is, of course, linked to it) is usually taken to mean that I am uninterested in "solving" these issues. Surprisingly, in my opinion anyway, it is people our age (I am assuming that since both Elizabeth and I are around the same age, you lot must be too…okay, I am being ageist. If you are older/younger, then I am talking about people in their mid to late twenties) who are the most critical in this way. I have heard this since coming here especially since I have been hanging out with a fair number of people from the former Eastern Europe and (former) Soviet Union. Their view is that, by not making people aware of the dangers of communism (i.e. Maoism in the Nepali version) and instead talking of Maoists as represented as terrorists and about the deployment of terrorism in discourses and by leaving questions of whether these people ARE Maoists or ARE terrorists aside, I am supporting them instead of making people aware of the dangers of communism or terrorism. That these two goals, to me, appear to be separate (one assumes communism/terrorism is bad universally while the other asks how is it that terrorism/communism is understood and made meaningful) is not taken into account. Instead, my new mates tell me, since I didn't grow up in the communist period and didn't live in a communist country, I don't know how difficult and terrifying it will be if the Maoists succeed in Nepal.

Now, my understanding of communism is limited, I acknowledge. It is true I never grew up under communism (though I guess my neighbouring country was communist in both Thailand and Nepal) and by the time I was old enough to take any interest in what was going on in the world outside of my crayons and three-wheeled bicycle, communism had ended and there were few Reds to worry about. In high school, I was a science student, which meant I studied mathematics, physics and chemistry (and one year of biology of which all I remember is having to operate on earthworms and frogs. Btw, the frogs which are used for dissection in Nepali high schools, or at least in the one I went to, are imported from India so have been immersed in formaldehyde for weeks, instead of for a few days. I never figured out why we were dissecting imported frogs when Nepal had plenty of frogs of its own and a bit of culling couldn't have hurt. But that is another story, I suppose). I guess formal study of communism came during my undergrad in Australia where we all had to take two semesters of Australian and South-east Asian history. As the name says, it was mostly about Australians/South-east Asians who had fought in Vietnam. Communism was tough but it was pretty much over by the time I was in undergrad. Or at least my history lessons told me. Yes, there you have it: communism, for me and for my mates in undergrad, was history.

For my colleagues here right now, communism is not history. Or, if it is, then it is history that they remember and have been affected by to great extents. Most of them are my age or even a few years younger so communism (or at least the period defined as such) must have ended before they were out of primary schools. Things change slowly, I am sure, but most of these countries have been in the European Union for a year or longer (or are in the process of formalising their joining) and my mates own clothes from H and M and GAP, talk about going shopping in Paris in the springtime and holidaying in Turkey (so open territorial borders) and yet have clear-cut memories of life under communism as “oppressive” and "closed" and warn me constantly of the hardships that Nepal will suffer if it "becomes communist". So, yes, it is from the younger generation that I get the most objections to how I am doing my work. And, usually, they do not care how I represent the British-Northern Irish situation. In my previous presentation here at OOD Uni, I described how the British constructed insecurity during the partition of Ireland by describing the rebels (and, later, the early IRA) as Bolsheviks but this did not get much attention (or dire warnings about the future). I asked about this and was told "But, that is history. What you are talking about in Nepal is not history".

I guess it goes back to how we produce knowledge. By not ever having lived under communism, I do not have the position (or the legitimacy) to comment about it (and, especially, to joke about it). Looking at discourses, at how people say, act and document in and of social settings, is not enough. One colleague succinctly told me, "Not everything is up for interpretation. Do you want to claim that the Holocaust never happened?". No, I don't. But, that is because I can't base my research on social relations and make such a claim and I am also amused (well, better amused than pissed off) that the usual response to my methodological orientation appears to be that I am claming the Holocaust never happened or “if social life is about construction, then construct peace in the world”. How is it that the usual response to somebody saying that social relations are constructed is to claim that the person saying so denies the Holocaust never happened? I don’t know actually. But, I would say it is more interesting to note how the delegitimisation of positioning occurs. I am not claiming I can, right now, invent peace out of thin air. I hardly think that would accord with social practices I want to describe. But, that point is usually not taken and we get into debates about how reality matters and how taking a stance that looks at terrorism as a trope deployed in the processes of making insecurity is to “miss the point” that terrorists (or communists) are deadly threats to the security and lifestyles of us all.

So, how do I use history? I use history selectively. I use it like Blackadder used it or the Pythons (all my posts for the month of May are going to include MP. Get used to it) did. I use it to make a point. To illustrate what I want to talk about. To compare how processes of constructing insecurity that I am interested in now can be noted in the past (not similar processes as such but the language and practices upon which they draw on and then inform). I use history to poke fun at questions of "dominant/local interpretations" and to generally show the absurdity of talking about something (or some question/problem) as natural. I use it to tell stories.

The football section in the title of this post was to note that, similar to communism, football also seems to have certain associations that I, being in a position of not ever having lived in a city that has a local football team or in a country where football "matters", cannot KNOW about. Again, my mates here tell me that football is a "working-class sport" and that "intellectuals" (ie. PhD students) would never follow it or ever acknowledge following it if they did. Similar to communism, football, in these other contexts, implies racism, anti-immigration (English and Spanish) or working-class drunkenness and violence (Polish and other Eastern European). For me, football is going to matches with my dad; watching Premiership football on big screens in Bangkok, while sitting outside having drinks; gathering together with siblings to watch/play footy; going to pubs in obscure parts of the world at odd times of the day or night and finding a common language to talk in; watching DC Utd win the League last year (and going to almost every home match and marvelling at the American footy experience where one can buy beer at the grounds. Can't imagine that in what is now relatively benign England let alone elsewhere in Europe). Football, to be idealistic and naïve about it, for me is about making connections in different settings. But, similar to communism, since I am not from a part of the world which play football, it is assumed that I am not in a position to talk about football. I don't KNOW what it is like to live in a city (apparently DC Utd don't count :-))during a football match. I don't KNOW what "type of people" watch/play football or else I would never acknowledge following it. And, since I don't know, I can't talk about it.

And, as I said earlier, to me it is surprising that most of the older people are willing to listen to why I follow football or why I am remaining "amoral" (I like agnostic better since that brings up questions of religion, which I like) about the "root causes" of terrorism (and communism) in my research but that people my age are not. Is it that we are threatened about what we know now that we can't or don't want to listen to others? Or, do we generalise about our experiences to the extent that we reckon there is one understanding of communism or football or terrorism and we have that so there is no need to listen to others? Or even to have a good argument with each other about why I see my research problem the way I do (and others don't). Or is it that the context of these events are so ingrained in their production as knowledge (communism seems to refer mainly to Europe here, not to China or to Vietnam, Laos, etc.)? I don't know. I know that I do the same: I assume communism is history; I assume that football is a way to link people and have conversations (even if it is about it being a working-class, yob sport) but maybe (hopefully) I don’t assume everybody else sees the world this way. But, if there are so many issues to deal with in everyday conversations, it is no surprise most of us have problems communicating (or even getting listened to) in academia. And, that right there is a horror story waiting to be written.

posted by Priya @ 11:12 AM