FRANTZ FANON. Translated by Charles Lam Markmann. Forewords by. Ziauddin Sardar and Homi K. Bhabha black skin white skin masks it. PLUTO PRESS. Not so very long ago, the earth numbered two thousand million inhabitants: five hundred million men, and one thousand five hundred million natives. The former . Black Skin, White Masks. A Dying Colonialism. Toward the African Revolution. THE WRETCHED. OF THE EARTH. Frantz Fanon. Translated from the French.
|Language:||English, Spanish, Dutch|
|Distribution:||Free* [*Register to download]|
Frantz Fanon's legend in America starts with the story of his death in Washington on December 6, Despite his reluctance to be treated "in that country. PDF | 75+ minutes read | On Dec 16, , Blake Hilton and others published Frantz Fanon and colonialism: A psychology of oppression. PDF | 80+ minutes read | This essay is an explication of Frantz Fanon as a humanist. Through a detailed reading of his four major works.
The liquidation of colonization is nothing but a prelude to complete liberation, to self-recovery. Due to globalization, which is another synonymic word for colonialism, colonization, and imperialism predicated on and implemented by the Western capitalist nations — the gap between the rich and the poor continues to widen. The Colonizer and the Colonized. Could there still be hope for another revolutionary path? Only time will tell. However, when Frantz Fanon died in December , he was relatively unknown except among his fighting Algerian comrades, a small group of French Leftists who had been attracted to his writings, and a handful of radical Africans.
In order to comprehensively understand this socialization process of alienation, it must be demonstratively deconstructed. Fanon asserted strongly, unrestrictedly and publicly to the world that European colonialism and European colonization were both unjust acts against humanity; therefore were unethical, immoral and nefarious traditional modes of operations that were destroying the humanity, livelihood, and cultural legacies of Third 67 Emmanuel Hansen.
In that respect, this detrimental normalization of colonialism and colonization met the rage and vexation of Frantz Fanon. He problematized the normality of systemic oppression, subjugation and imperialistic functionalities of the colonial rule. Moreover, the affirmations that Fanon i. Fanon inspired a myriad of Blacks throughout the Diaspora as well as throughout the colonized Africa to look toward a liberatory and independent future that is textural and substantively obtainable.
Furthermore, the obtainability to acquire liberation had to be, without reservation, politicized pervasively as an indispensible apparatus. Turner, Lou. Amherst, New York. Humanity Books. Asante, Molefi Kete. Abarry, Abu S. Philadelphia, Pennsylvania. Temple University Press. Alao, Abiodun. Mau Mau Warrior. New York, New York. Osprey Publishing. Ashcroft, Bill. Griffiths, Gareth. Tiffin, Helen. Albany, New York.
State University of New York Press. Caute, David. The Viking Press. Discourse of Colonialism.
Monthly Review Press. Original print Cherki, Alice. Translated from the French by Nadia Benabid. Davidson, Basil. Boston, Massachusetts. Atlantic Monthly Press. Fanon, Frantz. Black Skin, White Masks. Grove Press. Grove Press, Inc.
Toward the African Revolution. Feagin, Joe R. Systemic Racism: A Theory of Oppression. Geismar, Peter. The Dial Press. Rethinking Fanon: The Continuing Dialogue. Hansen, Emmanuel. Jinadu, L. Kabeer, Naila. Kaplan, Ann E. Lackey, Michael. Tallahassee, Florida. University Press of Florida. Lewis, David Levering. Henry Holt and Company. Macey, David. Frantz Fanon: A Biography. Picador USA. Maloba, Wunyabari O. Bloomington, Indiana. Indiana University Press.
McFarlane, Adrian Anthony. Spencer, William David. Murrell, Nathaniel Samuel. Memmi, Albert. The Colonized and the Colonizer. Beacon Press. Onwuanibe, Richard C. Louis, Missouri. Warren H. Green, Inc. Perinbam, B. Washington, D. Three Continents Press. Sartre, Jean-Paul. Notebooks for an Ethics.
Translated by David Pellauer. Chicago, Illinois. University of Chicago. Stevenson, Angus. Lindberg, Christine. Oxford University Press, Inc.
Because of this, his book is scandalous. The black Goncourts and the yellow Nobels are finished; the days of colonized laureats are over. For the fathers, we alone were the speakers; the sons no longer even consider us as valid intermediaries: we are the objects of their speeches.
If he demonstrates the tactics of colonialism, the complex play of relations which unite and oppose the colonists to the people of the mother country, it is for his brothers; his aim is to teach them to beat us at our own game.
In short, the Third World finds itself and speaks to itself through his voice. We know that it is not a homogeneous world; we know too that enslaved peoples are still to be found there, together with some who have achieved a simulacrum of phoney independence, others who are still fighting to attain sovereignty and others again who have obtained complete freedom but who live under the constant menace of imperialist aggression.
These differences are born of colonial history, in other words of oppression. Here, the mother country is satisfied to keep some feudal rulers in her pay; there, dividing and ruling she has created a native bourgeoisie, sham from beginning to end; elsewhere she has played a double game: the colony is planted with settlers and exploited at the same time. Thus Europe has multiplied divisions and opposing groups, has fashioned classes and sometimes even racial prejudices, and has endeavoured by every means to bring about and intensify the stratification of colonized societies.
Fanon hides nothing: in order to fight against us the former colony must fight against itself: or, rather, the two struggles form part of a whole. In the heat of battle, all internal barriers break down; the puppet bourgeoisie of businessmen and shopkeepers, the urban proletariat, which is always in a privileged position, the lumpen-proletariat of the shanty towns — all fall into line with the stand made by the rural masses, that veritable reservoir of a national revolutionary army; for in those countries where colonialism has deliberately held up development, the peasantry, when it rises, quickly stands out as the revolutionary class.
For it knows naked oppression, and suffers far more from it than the workers in the towns, and in order not to die of hunger, it demands no less than a complete demolishing of all existing structures.
In order to triumph, the national revolution must be socialist; if its career is cut short, if the native bourgeoisie takes over power, the new State, in spite of its formal sovereignty, remains in the hands of the imperialists.
The example of Katanga illustrates this quite well. Thus the unity of the Third World is not yet achieved. It is a work in progress, which begins by the union, in each country, after independence as before, of the whole of the colonized under the command of the peasant class. This is what Fanon explains to his brothers in Africa, Asia and Latin America: we must achieve revolutionary socialism all together everywhere, or else one by one we will be defeated by our former masters.
He hides nothing, neither weaknesses, nor discords, nor mystification. Here, the movement gets off to a bad start; then, after a striking initial success it loses momentum; elsewhere it has come to a standstill, and if it is to start again, the peasants must throw their bourgeoisie overboard. For the only true culture is that of the Revolution; that is to say, it is constantly in the making.
Fanon speaks out loud; we Europeans can hear him, as the fact that you hold this book in your hand proves; is he not then afraid that the colonial powers may take advantage of his sincerity? No; he fears nothing. Our methods are out-of-date; they can sometimes delay emancipation, but not stop it. Our Machiavellianism has little download on this wide-awake world that has run our falsehoods to earth one after the other.
The settler has only recourse to one thing: brute force, when he can command it; the native has only one choice, between servitude or supremacy. What does Fanon care whether you read his work or not? It is to his brothers that he denounces our old tricks, and he is sure we have no more up our sleeves. The rival blocks take opposite sides, and hold each other in check; let us take advantage of this paralysis, let us burst into history, forcing it by our invasion into universality for the first time.
After a few steps in the darkness you will see strangers gathered around a fire; come close, and listen, for they are talking of the destiny they will mete out to your trading-centres and to the hired soldiers who defend them.
They will see you, perhaps, but they will go on talking among themselves, without even lowering their voices. This indifference strikes home: their fathers, shadowy creatures, your creatures, were but dead souls; you it was who allowed them glimpses of light, to you only did they dare speak, and you did not bother to reply to such zombies.
Their sons ignore you; a fire warms them and sheds light around them, and you have not lit it. Now, at a respectful distance, it is you who will feel furtive, nightbound and perished with cold. Turn and turn about; in these shadows from whence a new dawn will break, it is you who are the zombies. Why read it if it is not written for us? For two reasons; the first is that Fanon explains you to his brothers and shows them the mechanism by which we are estranged from ourselves; take advantage of this, and get to know yourselves seen in the light of truth, objectively.
Our victims know us by their scars and by their chains, and it is this that makes their evidence irrefutable. It is enough that they show us what we have made of them for us to realize what we have made of ourselves. But is it any use? But, you will say, we live in the mother country, and we disapprove of her excesses. It is true, you are not settlers, but you are no better. For the pioneers belonged to you; you sent them overseas, and it was you they enriched.
You warned them that if they shed too much blood you would disown them, or say you did, in something of the same way as any state maintains abroad a mob of agitators, agents provocateurs and spies whom it disowns when they are caught. You, who are so liberal and so humane, who have such an exaggerated adoration of culture that it verges on affectation, you pretend to forget that you own colonies and that in them men are massacred in your name.
Fanon reveals to his comrades above all to some of them who are rather too Westernized — the solidarity of the people of the mother country and of their representatives in the colonies. Have the courage to read this book, for in the first place it will make you ashamed, and shame, as Marx said, is a revolutionary sentiment. Make the most of it. But this is enough to enable him to constitute, step by step, the dialectic which liberal hypocrisy hides from you and which is as much responsible for our existence as for his.
During the last century, the middle classes looked on the workers as covetous creatures, made lawless by their greedy desires; but they took care to include these great brutes in our own species, or at least they considered that they were free men — that is to say, free to sell their labour.
In France, as in England, humanism claimed to be universal. In the case of forced labour, it is quite the contrary. There is no contract; moreover, there must be intimidation and thus oppression grows. Everything will be done to wipe out their traditions, to substitute our language for theirs and to destroy their culture without giving them ours.
Sheer physical fatigue will stupefy them. Starved and ill, if they have any spirit left, fear will finish the job; guns are levelled at the peasant; civilians come to take over his land and force him by dint of flogging to till the land for them.
For when you domesticate a member of our own species, you reduce his output, and however little you may give him, a farmyard man finishes by costing more than he brings in. For this reason the settlers are obliged to stop the breaking-in half-way; the result, neither man nor animal, is the native. Poor settler; here is his contradiction naked, shorn of its trappings.
He ought to kill those he plunders, as they say djinns do. Now, this is not possible, because he must exploit them as well. But it does not happen immediately. He has already lost the battle, but this is not obvious; he does not yet know that the natives are only half-native; to hear him talk, it would seem that he ill-treats them in order to destroy or to repress the evil that they have rooted in them; and after three generations their pernicious instincts will reappear no more.
What instincts does he mean? The instincts that urge slaves on to massacre their master? Can he not here recognize his own cruelty turned against himself?
But in this he leaves out of account the human memory and the ineffaceable marks left upon it; and then, above all there is something which perhaps he has never known: we only become what we are by the radical and deep-seated refusal of that which others have made of us. Three generations did we say?
But these constantly renewed aggressions, far from bringing them to submission, thrust them into an unbearable contradiction which the European will pay for sooner or later.
After that, when it is their turn to be broken in, when they are taught what shame and hunger and pain are, all that is stirred up in them is a volcanic fury whose force is equal to that of the pressure put upon them. You said they understand nothing but violence?
Of course; first, the only violence is the settlers; but soon they will make it their own; that is to say, the same violence is thrown back upon us as when our reflection comes forward to meet us when we go towards a mirror. Make no mistake about it; by this mad fury, by this bitterness and spleen, by their ever-present desire to kill us, by the permanent tensing of powerful muscles which are afraid to relax, they have become men: men because of the settler, who wants to make beasts of burden of them — because of him, and against him.
Hatred, blind hatred which is as yet an abstraction, is their only wealth; the Master calls it forth because he seeks to reduce them to animals, but he fails to break it down because his interests stop him half-way. But their petty thefts mark the beginning of a resistance which is still unorganized.
That is not enough; there are those among them who assert themselves by throwing themselves barehanded against the guns; these are their heroes.
Others make men of themselves by murdering Europeans, and these are shot down; brigands or martyrs, their agony exalts the terrified masses. Yes, terrified; at this fresh stage, colonial aggression turns inward in a current of terror among the natives. By this I do not only mean the fear that they experience when faced with our inexhaustible means of repression but also that which their own fury produces in them. They are cornered between our guns pointed at them and those terrifying compulsions, those desires for murder which spring from the depth of their spirits and which they do not always recognize; for at first it is not their violence, it is ours, which turns back on itself and rends them; and the first action of these oppressed creatures is to bury deep down that hidden anger which their and our moralities condemn and which is however only the last refuge of their humanity.
If this suppressed fury fails to find an outlet, it turns in a vacuum and devastates the oppressed creatures themselves. In order to free themselves they even massacre each other. They can only stop themselves from marching against the machine-guns by doing our work for us; of their own accord they will speed up the dehumanisation that they reject. Under the amused eye of the settler, they will take the greatest precautions against their own kind by setting up supernatural barriers, at times reviving old and terrible myths, at others binding themselves by scrupulous rites.
It is in this way that an obsessed person flees from his deepest needs — by binding himself to certain observances which require his attention at every turn. They dance; that keeps them busy; it relaxes their painfully contracted muscles; and then the dance mimes secretly, often without their knowing, the refusal they cannot utter and the murders they dare not commit. In certain districts they make use of that last resort — possession by spirits.
Formerly this was a religious experience in all its simplicity, a certain communion of the faithful with sacred things; now they make of it a weapon against humiliation and despair; Mumbo-Jumbo and all the idols of the tribe come down among them, rule over their violence and waste it in trances until it in exhausted.
At the same time these high-placed, personages protect them; in other words the colonized people protect themselves against colonial estrangement by going one better in religious estrangement, with the unique result that finally they add the two estrangements together and each reinforces the other. This is a defence, but it is also the end of the story; the self is disassociated, and the patient heads for madness.
Let us add, for certain other carefully selected unfortunates, that other witchery of which I have already spoken: Western culture. If I were them, you may say, I'd prefer my mumbo-jumbo to their Acropolis. Two worlds: that makes two bewitchings; they dance all night and at dawn they crowd into the churches to hear mass; each day the split widens. Our enemy betrays his brothers and becomes our accomplice; his brothers do the same thing.
Laying claim to and denying the human condition at the same time: the contradiction is explosive. For that matter it does explode, you know as well as I do; and we are living at the moment when the match is put to the fuse.
When the rising birthrate brings wider famine in its wake, when these newcomers have life to fear rather more than death, the torrent of violence sweeps away all barriers. In Algeria and Angola, Europeans are massacred at sight. The Left at home is embarrassed; they know the true situation of the natives, the merciless oppression they are submitted to; they do not condemn their revolt, knowing full well that we have done everything to provoke it.
But, all the same, they think to themselves, there are limits; these guerrillas should be bent on showing that they are chivalrous; that would be the best way of showing they are men. Sometimes the Left scolds them There is one duty to be done, one end to achieve: to thrust out colonialism by every means in their power.
The more far-seeing among us will be, in the last resort, ready to admit this duty and this end; but we cannot help seeing in this ordeal by force the altogether inhuman means that these less-than-men make use of to win the concession of a charter of humanity. Accord it to them at once, then, and let them endeavour by peaceful undertakings to deserve it. Our worthiest souls contain racial prejudice. They would do well to read Fanon; for he shows clearly that this irrepressible violence is neither sound and fury, nor the resurrection of savage instincts, nor even the effect of resentment: it is man re-creating himself.
I think we understood this truth at one time, but we have forgotten it — that no gentleness can efface the marks of violence; only violence itself can destroy them. The native cures himself of colonial neurosis by thrusting out the settler through force of arms. When his rage boils over, he rediscovers his lost innocence and he comes to know himself in that he himself creates his self.
Far removed from his war, we consider it as a triumph of barbarism; but of its own volition it achieves, slowly but surely, the emancipation of the rebel, for bit by bit it destroys in him and around him the colonial gloom. Once begun, it is a war that gives no quarter. You may fear or be feared; that is to say, abandon yourself to the disassociations of a sham existence or conquer your birthright of unity. When the peasant takes a gun in his hands, the old myths grow dim and the prohibitions are one by one forgotten.
For in the first days of the revolt you must kill: to shoot down a European is to kill two birds with one stone, to destroy an oppressor and the man he oppresses at the same time: there remain a dead man, and a free man; the survivor, for the first time, feels a national soil under his foot. At this moment the Nation does not shrink from him; wherever he goes, wherever he may be, she is; she follows, and is never lost to view, for she is one with his liberty.
But, after the first surprise, the colonial army strikes; and then all must unite or be slaughtered. Tribal dissensions weaken and tend to disappear; in the first place because they endanger the Revolution, but for the more profound reason that they served no other purpose before than to divert violence against false foes.
The Nation marches forward; for each of her children she is to be found wherever his brothers are fighting.