A variety of ancient religious and cultural texts warn us about an apocalypse whereby the world ends following some sort of disastrous event(s) incurred from unjust and immoral human error. Yet, with intensifying forms of violence, impending climate catastrophes, food shortages, and life-altering contagious pathogens characterizing the present moment, it becomes increasingly difficult to cast-off the galloping hooves of the four horsemen as mere auditory hallucinations. For George Fourlas in Anti-Colonial Solidarity: Race, Reconciliation and MENA Liberation (Rowman and Littlefield, 2022), the socio-political realities built into (neo)colonial domination mean we are living in an apocalyptic moment (7 and 16). Avoiding our current apocalyptic trajectory therefore necessitates challenging the coloniality of power and its accompanying socio-political relations (133).
As the title implies, the book envisions a socio-political model that focuses on people from the Middle East and North Africa (MENA), though not exclusively, and aims to develop solidarity and challenge (neo)colonial forms of domination (4). Fourlas’s solidaristic vision begins with an understanding of race before turning to reconciliation and liberation (6). Despite the existence of other divisionary strategies that distinguish and ascribe value to differences in religion, class, or sex, Fourlas argues that understanding race and racialization is critical since “these other objectified forms are obfuscated by racial division” and, as such, cannot be overcome without first tackling racial divisions and racism (10). In the U.S. context, for instance, the construction of race operates through a binary logic of opposition where “blackness” and “whiteness” are polar opposites, and status and value are determined in proximity to these poles (25). Though conceptualizations of race fluctuate over time, the legal classification of MENA people as “white” does not match how MENA people are racialized. Here, Fourlas defines racialization as “an objectifying social and institutional relation that heavily relies on what Linda Alcoff calls ‘visible identities,’ or the phenotypic referent to racial myths that are used to target, denigrate, exploit, and ultimately divide to conquer” (10). The coding of MENA people as “white” reaffirms existing racial classifications and reinforces the coloniality of power (62–64), blunts the social response to racist behavior targeting Muslims and MENA, or MENA-like, people as simply Islamophobic or xenophobic (20 and 31), and inaccurately describes the violent experiences felt by those who are racialized as a MENA person (28–29 and 32). Understanding the racialization of MENA people in and outside of MENA settings is therefore essential for the development of progressive intra- and interpersonal relations and for the prospects of reconciliation and liberation.
For Fourlas, a simple amendment of MENA racial coding is not enough to engender conditions for reconciliation and liberation (51). Turning to the ancient story of the temple of Babel, with contemporary examples from ongoing projects in the MENA region, Fourlas suggests that a new “myth” is necessary to ground anti-colonial activity (94 and 109–110). While still being sensitive to the particularities of local dynamics (115), Fourlas argues that reconciliation warrants a “softening” or rejection of existing colonial divisions, such as national boundaries or nationalism, to form a new anti-colonial identity (14 and 56). Specifically, anti-racist and anti-colonial praxis must “diverge from colonial norms of condemnation… and move toward social meaning-making labor (i.e., reconciliation) that emerges through face-to-face encounters” (35) based in processes of reciprocity (18). The emphasis on meaning-making labor, face-to-face encounters, and reciprocity is crucial. Here, not only are new identities and relations forged, but since authentic and indigenous engagement mediates the experience rather than colonial logics, a broader and more inclusive understanding of solidarity emerges (2). Of course, this does not mean forgetting past injustices but, as Fourlas stipulates, “solidarity and liberation require that subjects look back at the irreconcilable past while thinking forward toward a future where We are reconciled or able to make meaning together, despite our horrible history” (111).
When relations develop through reciprocal and indigenous social meaning-making they do not just develop a new identity unbeholden to the divisionary logics of the colonial matrix. Rather, they are anti-colonial and a form of liberation in themselves since they are free from hierarchical forms of domination (124) and “realize a meaningful life in, through, and with community” (9). This race-focused and reconciliatory approach to anti-colonial solidarity and liberation has far-reaching implications for, and beyond, the MENA region. For instance, by generating new identities through an anti-colonial solidarity that emphasizes reconciliation, these newly formed collectives are self-determined rather than imposed through colonial logics (2). Ultimately, this reorganization challenges the interests of (neo)colonial powers as they attempt to preserve national or religious divisions that inform many existing tensions and perpetuate the coloniality of power. Moreover, reconciliatory and anti-colonial solidarity has the effect of broadening collective organizing for MENA, or MENA-descendant people, outside the MENA region. In turn, a solidaristic MENA collectivity living in the centers of colonial power renders continued state-led Orientalist-racist foreign policy more difficult.
However, the emphasis on reconciliation could pose moral dilemmas for contemporary collective organizing in the MENA region and elsewhere. For instance, though Fourlas acknowledges the damages caused by genocide denial (101), like when apologists claim that racist violence committed against people of color in the U.S. is an “aberration,” he maintains that genocide denial should still not disable reconciliation and solidarity (11). Further, as Fourlas emphasizes a politics of reconciliation rather than retribution he explains that any anti-racist praxis must “demand that it at least be theoretically possible for a racist to become a good person and ultimately become anti-racist themselves” (46). Though there is not anything wrong with this statement, the unfortunate consequence is an unavoidable asymmetry in the social labor needed to reconcile the racist with the anti-racist. In other words, the racist reaps the benefits from the anti-racist laborer and their labor. This becomes a problem since although Fourlas distinguishes between the reformable racist and the committed racist (46–48), he also points toward an inability to reconcile the racist with the targets of their racism. This ultimately reifies existing colonial divisions and is thus not properly anti-colonial (49). While goodwill can certainly go a long way to rapprochement between two formerly irreconcilable positions, and can even reform some racists, it guarantees neither reciprocity nor anti-colonial solidarity. Thus, questions arise as to how one might measure reciprocity under conditions where certain people benefit from colonial divisions and identities and where the labor for new anti-colonial solidarities falls disproportionately on those already marginalized by colonial logics.
It would seem a discussion of reparations is required for a reciprocal conception of anti-colonial politics. But how far should marginalized people extend their goodwill? How should the anti-racist deal with the committed racist? Is giving up on reconciliation when not met with reciprocity from the racist, classist, or sexist akin to giving up on anti-colonial solidarity? If the alternative to reciprocal reconciliation is either forced engagement with an unwilling partner or new forms of exclusion that might expand the shape of a collective, but not change the substance or logic of existing colonial divisions, then our current moment does not point toward a future apocalyptic event. Rather, the apocalypse is already here.
Altan Atamer
Altan Atamer is a doctoral candidate specializing in political theory and international relations in the Department of Political Science at the University of Connecticut. He is interested in Turkish and Ottoman politics.
