Engaging Foucault ethnographically
Jonathan Xavier Inda ed., Anthropologies of modernity: Foucault,
governmentality, and life politics. Cornwall: Blackwell Publishing, 2005,
pp. 288, ISBN 0631228276 (paperback).
This edited book sets out to bridge the gap between ethnography and
Foucault’s ideas on governmentality. In a clear introduction Inda puts
forward Foucault’s analysis of changes in systems of rule from
Machiavellian notions of sovereignty to the rise of the sixteenth century
‘arts of government’ in which government was coined as ‘the conduct of
conduct’—“the more or less considered and calculated ways of thinking
and acting that propose to shape, regulate, or manage the conduct of
individuals or groups toward specific goals or ends” (p.6).
Governmentality, Foucault’s neologism for ‘the arts of government’, is
about investigating the conditions of life of the population of a state—
‘biopolitics’— and of the individual human body—‘anatomopolitics’
or ‘discipline’.
The book has an anthropological focus as it does not limit the examination
of modern government to ‘Western’ state settings, but widens its scope to
‘non-Western’ locations and forms of global governance, taking into
account new technologies that focus on knowledge and life, and
necropolitics. The book is organized in five parts. In the first, ‘colonial
reasons’, David Scott and Robert Redfield analyze governmentality under
colonial rule. Scott deals with the manifestations of government during
the colonial history of Sri Lanka. He argues that criticizing “European
hegemony in the construction of knowledges about the non-European
world … ought not to be confused … with programmatically ignoring
Europe” (p.24). An understanding of political rationalities of colonial power
needs a “critical interrogation of the practices, modalities, and projects
through which the varied forms of its insertion into the lives of the
colonized were constructed and organized” (p.25). This historiographic
case presents the displacement of the political rationality of sovereignty
by that of governmentality in Sri Lanka. The first rationality was embodied
in taxation, i.e., the sheer extraction of wealth. The second, creating an
economy and a rational public, aimed at the body and its conditions of life,
obliging “a progressive desire for industry, regularity, and individual
accomplishment” (p.41). Unfortunately, this chapter makes difficult
reading due to long sentences with many sub clauses. Redfield, in an
appealing historiographic account, compares the Panopticon of Discipline
and punish with a French-Guyanan penal colony. Elaborating on their
differences, he wavers between Foucault’s metaphorical use of the
Panopticon for explaining disciplinary power on the one hand and its
concrete tangible setting—as invented by Jeremy Bentham—on the other.
In my view, this mystifies the argument: is this a plea for replacing the
metaphor of the Panopticon by that of the penal colony when analyzing
modernity in the non-European world, or is it about showing the
alternate—and “imperfect” (p.65)—manifestation of modernity in the
penal colony?
The second part of the book deals with global governance. Aihwa Ong
coins the concept of ‘graduated sovereignty’ (p.85), referring to global
corporations that take an active part in government and achieve legal
compromises regarding national sovereignty in special economic zones,
creating citizens that are “subjected to different sets of civil, political, and
economic rights” (p.94). Next, James Ferguson and Akhil Gupta engage in
an instructive attempt to add a spatial dimension to the debate on the
imagination of the state. They argue that “states represent themselves as
reified entities with particular spatial properties” (p.105) and relate this to
the question of globalization. Based on an ethnography of a governmental
program in India, they show how two state metaphors produce a spatial
and a scalar image of the state. ‘Verticality’ refers to the state ‘sitting’ at
the top. ‘Encompassment’ refers to the state encompassing its localities,
regions,
and communities.
The authors widen the notion of governmentality up to a global scale and
conceptualize the—decentered—state as “bundles of social practices”
(p.118). Regarding experiences with transnational governmentality in
several African countries, they criticize views that call for democratization
while exposing policies made and imposed by “wholly unelected and
unaccountable” international financial institutions such as the IMF and the
World Bank (p.119). Together with the presence of non-state but ‘statelike’ actors like NGOs this calls for an “ethnography of encompassment”,
focusing on processes through which governmentality is reproduced by
both state and non-state actors “emphasizing the similarities of
technologies of government across domains” (p.123).
In ‘technico sciences’, the third division of the book, David Horn and
Adriana Petryna deal with the relation between government and science.
Horn contributes an enjoyable historiography on the late nineteenth
century invention of the criminal anthropologist: “a new kind of
scientific expert, qualified to read the deviant body and to diagnose social
dangers” (p.135). He complements Foucault on the invention of ‘the
criminal’ and focuses on the performance of criminal anthropology at a
time that “forensic experts proposed to know and manage [crime] through
detailed knowledge of social laws and exegesis of the criminal body”
(p.136). Criminal anthropology found its necessary legitimation as an
authority on one side in the coincidence of its views with “popular culture
and proverbial wisdom” (p.138) as it “sought to create a new kind of
scientific ‘common sense’” (p.144). On the other hand it needed to elevate
itself “above the level of popular wisdom” (ibid.) through its performative
qualities, embodied in instruments, measurements, numbers and also
the scientist’s access to asylums, prisons, schools, and orphanages to
perform tests. Unfortunately the chapter lacks a conclusion.
Petryna provides a cogent and inspiring study on ‘biological citizenship’ in
Chernobyl, Ukraine, based on historical and ethnographic work. She
studies how science served as a political technique, creating truths and
notions of citizenship in the aftermath of the Chernobyl nuclear disaster.
The Soviet regime underestimated the extent of the disaster in terms of
victims and radiation rates. After the regime fell, the new state of Ukraine
re-appraised the extent of the disaster on the basis of new scientific
research and gave victims the right to health care. The Ukrainian citizen
was basically unprotected, but could get “some measure of protection
against the vagaries of joblessness and social disorientation” by making a
claim to ‘illness’ (p.167). In order to avoid abandonment people
maintained a tie with the state—converting themselves into ‘biological
citizens’ (p.172).
The fourth part contains two contributions on ‘biosocial subjects’ dealing
with the field of gene technology. First, Paul Rabinow builds forth on
biopower and coins the term ‘biosociality’ (p.186), arguing that because of
technological development the split between nature and culture will be
overcome. Next, Karen-Sue Taussig, Rayna Rapp, and Deborah Heath coin
the term ‘flexible eugenics’ in which “long-standing biases against atypical
bodies meet both the perils and the possibilities that spring from genetic
technologies” (p.196). They present an ethnography on ‘dwarfs’ who are
members of the Little People of America, an organization for people of
short stature. Confronted with evolving genetic science and the discourse
on the engineering of the body in search of individual perfectibility, these
dwarfs currently face new possibilities and risks. Possibilities to change
their bodies and ‘control’ their reproduction dovetail with a growing
societal rejection of the deviant. Regarding the latter, they resist current
scientific options by a counter-discourse of valuating dwarf bodies and
their right of reproduction. On a more abstract level the enhanced
freedom of choice becomes a tyranny in which people are “obliged to be
free” (p.201).
The last part of the book, on ‘necropolitical projects’, is in my view the
best. In a frenetic style Diane M. Nelson collates cartoons, ethnography,
Lamarckian biology, social activism, and popular terminology in order to
understand Foucault’s concept of power in a practical way, meanwhile
struggling with her own ethical stance. Drawing on ethnographies on the
Guatemalan war and its aftermath, and the country’s malaria eradication
program, she seeks to ‘know’—savoir— the repressive or emancipatory
character of biopolitics. Throughout the text she shows that both cases
are concerned with the deployment of modern rationalities aiming at the
protection of the life of the social body. On the level of the individual, she
argues that “the productivity of power, the very subjectivization that
works through these relational networks suggests [that] we are not actors
in the neoliberal autonomous sense, but neither are we docile
automatons” (p.234). The ultimate challenge in taking up Foucault’s
power theory—contrasting the social activist search for equity and
improvement—is in thinking about “that without which I cannot think at
all” (p.235).
Finally João Biehl deals with the politics of death.His sophisticated
theoretical outline results in Foucault’s (1980: 143) argument that
“modern man is an animal whose politics place his existence as a living
being in question” (p.249). Biehl (ibid.) relates current sovereignty—that
consists of “making live and letting die” (Foucault 1992: 172)—to the
problem of AIDS control in Brazil. Although the Brazilian way of tackling
AIDS is hailed as a success worldwide, a certain proportion of the diseased
population is not reached. “From the perspective of the marginal and poor
people with AIDS living in the streets and in and out of pastoral
institutions,we see that economic globalization, state and medical reform,
and the acceleration of claims over human right and citizenship coincide
with a continuous local production of social death that remains by and
large unaccounted for” (p.250). Biehl focuses on how populations are
medically and bureaucratically restructured around life-extending
treatments or simply excluded from them. He mentions ‘technologies of
invisibility’ turning people into ‘absent things’ (p.259). He equals the
‘invisible’ groups suffering from AIDS to Agamben’s concept of homo sacer
as these are “included in the social order through their dying” since their
dying benefits the population as a whole (p.263). These people are
“traced as ‘drug addicts’, ‘robbers’, and ‘prostitutes’, labels which allow
them to be socially blamed for their dying” (p.263).Biopolitics shows its
morbid side where “letting die is a technical and political action” (p.262)
and the essential questions of current modernity are “Who shall live? Who
shall die? And at what cost?” (p.264).
Concluding, this book makes for instructive reading on “concrete
manifestations of modern government” (p.11) in different localities and
on different levels. However, it does not completely live up to its subtitle,
as only Ferguson and Gupta, Petryna, Taussig, Rapp and Heath, Nelson,
and Biehl take up the challenge to extend Foucault’s thought into
ethnography. Rabinow and Ong relate to Foucault, but present little to
respectively no ethnographic material, whereas Scott, Redfield, and Horn
provide historiographic accounts. Some authors—instead of providing their
personal experiences on reading Foucault—could have made a bigger
effort to relate concepts as governmentality and biopolitics to
ethnographical analysis. Furthermore, Rabinow’s contribution—thoughtprovoking as it was when first published in 1999—lost much of its impact
regarding the quickly evolving field of gene technology and its more
philosophical consequences. Redfield, Nelson and Biehl refer to the work
of Giorgio Agamben. In my view, other contributions missed the chance to
engage with the latter’s theory on the relationship between biopolitics,
citizenship and sovereignty. Petryna’s argument on the role of biology in
shaping the debate on citizenship dovetails, as I see it, with Agamben’s
thesis that modern citizenship is predicated on the politicization of bare
life. Her description of “the basic biological existence of populations that
precedes political life” (p.173) touches upon Agamben’s discussion of the
ancient figure of homo sacer as man “who may be killed and yet not
sacrificed” (Agamben 1998: 8). In this line of thought Taussig et al. could
have turned to Agamben’s thesis that biopolitics resides in the sovereign’s
right to determine who who is worth living and who not—with genetics
as instrument of rule—so as to analyse mechanisms of exclusion that
distinguish between the citizen and its antithesis: homo sacer (Agamben
1998).
Martijn Koster
Wageningen University
References
Agamben, Giorgio. 1998. Homo sacer: Sovereign
power and bare life. Stanford University Press