The Left Berlin News & Comment

This is the archive template

“The existing system does not adequately support people from minority backgrounds”

Interview with Kumar Muniandy about his new play Second Class Queer


28/06/2024

Hi. Thanks for talking to us. Could you start by briefly introducing yourself?

My name is Kumar Muniandy. I’m from Malaysia, and my grandparents were taken by the British from India. They were displaced in Malaysia for colonial work as rubber tappers. My parents were born as first generation Indian Malaysians. I’m second generation.

I moved to London when I was 23 and wanted to be an actor. I stayed there for 17 years, went to drama school, but didn’t really succeed as an actor for many reasons. I left the UK a few years ago, travelled around a bit, and all my friends said Berlin would be the cheapest city to move to.

Next week, you’ve got a play on at the English Theatre Berlin. What’s the play about?

It’s a story about an Indian Malaysian queer gay guy who goes speed dating and meets five men. And through this conversation with five different men, we get to see gradually what he’s actually going through. Not to give too much away, but he hadn’t opened up to his late mother that he’s gay.

And he blames himself for his mother’s death. A guilt he carries on his shoulder since her passing. But at the end of the play, he opens up to his mother out in the open. But the juicy part is the conversations with these five men. You need to come and watch it to experience these moments.

And the play’s a comedy? 

Yeah.. people laugh.

It’s a comedy about racism, homophobia and colonialism? Do you think these subjects can be funny?

Yes. I think it depends what state of mind you are in, and what kind of positionality you hold in the place you are. I always think about survival mode, like many people who toil all their life to belong somewhere. I think if I was in London, I would be less stressed, less powerless, because I know the language. I can speak freely. I can defend myself. 

But here in Berlin, my B1 level German is not good enough. It’s sometimes difficult, whether it’s a mild or intense (all the -isms) situation, I have to protect myself.

I used to shout back and complain whenever people were rude or treated me unfairly, always pointing out their behaviour. But that only made things worse for me – it fired back in many forms – cancellations, blacklisted, labelled as violent, etc. So now, I’ve switched tactics and use humor instead.

I make the situation comical when some people joke about colonization, my skin colour, why Indians ‘shake their heads’, and are slightly racist to me without even realising. Most of the time, I feel powerless because the existing system does not adequately support people from minority backgrounds, who are not in the status quo. This can make it difficult for us to feel secure and have our voices heard.

And I pass (and benefit) as a cis looking man (even though I don’t identify myself as a cis man) and I’m brown – and it is already tough to navigate the system here so I can’t imagine for other marginalized folks who don’t pass as cis and have rich melanin skin dealing with the system. So yeah, I make jokes now.

You say it’s partly a language thing. Are there other aspects of racism which are specific to Berlin and Germany?

Yes. I often talked about and (attacked) white people, white people, white people. But before we even move to white people, I look at my own South Asian community, which has its own racist discrimination, which derives from colonization (caste, colourism, nepotism and so on..).

For example, when I’m in Malaysia, people have said to me to go back to India, but when I’m in India some have said: “oh you’re not really Indian because you’re Malaysian”. It’s the same thing that happens here but in another form of disassociating me from ‘them’.

It’s not just about race and colonialism. You’re also talking about the gay experience. There is a point of view, which you often hear, that gay men and women from the Global South are particularly repressed, because they’re not as enlightened as the West. Is this your experience?

I would say yes, and no, but can I answer the question in a different way? 

The only place that I feel that I don’t have to justify my existence, is if I go to a queer BIPOC spaces, and among the LGBTQAI community. I’m gay, I like men. And I can just walk in and don’t have to prove it to anybody. I just get accepted. It’s the same thing when I go to a cinema. I’m just watching a film. We’re all equal watching a film. In the context of queer spaces among the LGBTQAI community, I can’t exist fully in Malaysia as there aren’t safe spaces like in Berlin or London, from my experience.

So yes, this is a huge part of freedom here. When I go home to look after my parents every year, I have to be in the closet, and pretend to be macho. Here in Berlin, there is freedom but one pays the price for having a rich melanin skin. You get exotified but you also get vilified at the same time. A friend once told me this and it has stuck in my head forever: ‘we are like dogs on a leash’. Gassi gehen oder…?

We’re in a room with a lot of elephants in it. One of them is the strangeness in Germany since October 7th. Have your experiences changed? Society seems to have gone mad. Has this affected you?

Yes, definitely. I think I’ve gotten more depressed, I am floating between feeling guilty, feeling lucky and some feelings that I don’t know how to identify and deal with. I get to fly home and be with my parents since my country is not getting bombed. My parents are going through challenging health conditions, and I have the opportunity to look after them. I have those blessings.

Here in Berlin, I try to focus more on supporting other countries like Myanmar, Congo, Sudan, Kurdistan, to name a few, those causes which don’t get as much press and solidarity as others. I go to screenings, try to help with donations or be there for an individual who’s from these countries.

You’re not Palestinian, but you are a brown person in Berlin. Has the way you’ve been treated in the past year changed?

No. I think it hasn’t changed. There’s always been prejudice against me because of my skin colour when I enter a space. I talk about this in the play, which are all real incidents which happened to me. 

I’ll give you an example. When I was in London in 2003 the Iraq war started. Because I’m brown and look like a Middle Eastern man, I was stopped and questioned every day. They didn’t believe that I was an actor going to a drama school.

At the airport in London, security would always check me. It happened in Germany as well. And I looked at other brown guys going in. And there were some who were also queer (I think?), and they were really proud of themselves, confident and wore clothing that didn’t look like a cis straight men, you know, with earrings, headphones, scarves, nail polish and really fun confident looking. And they were never checked.

I thought, I’m going to do the same thing and see what happens. And you know what? I was not checked either. So whenever I fly home, I wear my skinny jeans and tight t-shirt. I try to put on a fake earring or a headphone, and pretend that I’m a really cool person. I am already an effeminate person, but I just extend it. And they don’t touch me. They don’t even check my bag.

(​​Disclaimer: This is based on my personal experience at airports I’ve been to and may not reflect everyone’s situation. I don’t intend to suggest it’s always the case for people who express themselves through clothing and appearrances).

Why do you think this is? I can see a line of thought that security thinks that all brown people are Islamists, but they also think that no Islamists are gay. So it must be confusing to them.

I guess. But interestingly, I was at a dinner party two years ago, and I was telling this to a group of people and there was this guy called Chris from America. I told them that I had to learn to be really queer gay looking at the airport and how it was successful to not get racially profiled through bag checks.

And he said, “lucky you. We are Black. We have no way out. It doesn’t matter if we’re femme or not, we still get racially profiled”. And that put me in my place and I realised sometimes I have advantages that others don’t have.

Let’s talk about the play a little bit. What is the role of Art in talking about society?

As an actor, I’ve usually just been asked to play terrorist roles, or a shopkeeper, problematic Muslim dad, Indian Yogi rapist harassing white women, these kinds of roles, with a thick Indian accent. I was never able to play a lawyer or whatnot. I think it’s important for people to see the reality of other people. 

To be honest with you, I was just so tired of not getting any acting jobs. I have a mentor but also a good friend, she’s a Nigerian British artist who lives here and London, and I spoke to her about my idea for a play. And she said: “just write it”. And some good friends in the Berlin free scene stepped in as well and encouraged me to write and show the play. Through this process, I realized, I just want to say something. 

My aim is not to be amazing on stage or show how good an actor I am. I just want to say something and leave. And people related to it, both white people, BIPOC folks. I think we need new voices. I guess there’s more exposure than before, but we need even more.

There’s a belief that the theatre world tends to be white and middle class and has certain assumptions. How true is that belief?

Five years ago, I would say yes, but now there are other demographics coming in. There are so many theatres in Berlin which are focussed on special causes and identities. Staatstheater is definitely white and middle class, but the free scene in Berlin, the small fringy type theatres are different.

But I still think that these spaces are more available to white queer, or white passing communities than BIPOC folks in the name of moving away from heteronormative patriarchy. It’s still dominated by white queer folks.

But you think that the rise of white queer people brings other people in in their wake? Why do you think things have gotten better in the last five years?

Yes and no. Because of George Floyd. Everything kind of kicked off from that. But it was just temporary, and it’s gone back down to the same usual shit. All the people who screamed Black Lives Matter and about inclusions were only there for three minutes. People who talked about inclusion are the ones who are still getting the jobs, opportunities. It’s still the same.

The other thing is funding. If you have funding then the theater will give you the space to do your thing. I would say that things have improved a tiny bit, but only a tiny bit. There is still alot of nepotism and tokenism under the name of inclusion and diversity.

How is the play going?

The crowd seems to really relate to what I’m saying. The character I’m playing is also problematic himself. So I’m not just showing victimization or he’s an angel, but that it’s from both sides. I think people appreciate that.

Do you think it’s dangerous to portray a minority character with flaws?

For me, theatre or film is about showing human flaws and private thoughts in a public place. I am more interested in portraying people’s flaws and my aim is to heal. Everything is kind of flawed and three dimensional. I want to show that but at the end, I want to convey healing – that’s what is important for me right now.

What happens next? Do you want to take the play to other places? Do you want to write a new play? 

I did a play called White Talcum Powder, which I performed here in the Ufer Studios, it’s in development. Most British people who come to see the Second Class Queer play said “this has to come to London”. So I’m going to London in July to find a theatre – wish me luck – so far no lead. 

Any chance of future plays or do you first need to relax?

I’m not getting any younger. I will strive to do more work. I’ve written a few things. I think artists in Berlin (or artists in general) have tons of work under their pillows. It’s all about resources, funding, opportunies – if you get it or not.

Even when I’m relaxing, I’m still writing or finding ideas. I don’t have the luxury to relax. I have no stable income and I’m looking after my parents. I come from a colonized and homophobic country.

Like other folks who are in the same situation as me, the oppression and colonisation DNAs are still operating. It will never leave. So I need to do the work to stop that in one way or another. This is why my play is called Second Class Queer. I’m a second class citizen in Malaysia. But I’m a second class queer in Germany.

If people go and see your show and like it and want to see more, how can they encourage the theatre community to book you?

I’m going to put up flyers on the wall with a QR code, email address, and Instagram account. You can take a picture, or fill out the questionnaire and email me about it. Or you can also just email the theatre and encourage them to put the play on again next year.

I want to translate the whole play into German and play it auf Deutsch next year. But that needs money/funding. When I hire people, I want to pay them well. The aim is to rewrite the play to suit the German audience and to poke some buttons. I think it will work.

Do you have ideas what those buttons would be?

Not yet because I need German born/naturalised folks to collaborate with me and talk about it. I understand the politics here and there, but my experience is different from the BIPOC German experiences. I want to get their opinions, experience but also mix with the Berlin/Germany’s diaspora’s realities in the German version of the play. We’ll see.

So, of people want to send you feedback then they should?

Definitely. Yeah.

Second Class Queer is showing at the English Theatre Berlin from Thursday 4th – Saturday 6th July. You can book tickets here.

Für eine internationalistische Linke

Statement on Palestine (in German) by Die Linke Wedding and Linksjugend Wedding


27/06/2024

You can read the English version of this text here.

Die Europawahl liegt nun hinter uns. In Mitte blicken wir mit einer gewissen Erleichterung auf ein stabiles Ergebnis, ohne gravierende Verluste. Im Wedding haben wir in einigen Stimmbezirken sogar Gewinne einfahren können. Besonders freuen können wir uns in diesen Tagen aber nicht. Europaweit sind faschistische Kräfte auf dem Vormarsch, und das bundesweite Ergebnis der Linken ist trotz mancher Lichtblicke desaströs. 

Angesichts der Tatsache, dass das Thema “Friedenssicherung” bei den Wähler:innen an erster Stelle gestanden hat, werten wir dieses Ergebnis nicht zuletzt als Kritik vieler Menschen an der widersprüchlichen Positionierung unserer Partei zu Israels Kriegs- und Besatzungspolitik und anderen friedenspolitischen Themen. Auch wir als Aktivist:innen an der Basis der Linken haben in den letzten Monaten und insbesondere im Wahlkampf eine zunehmende Frustration verspürt. Frustration darüber, dass Positionen wie die Ablehnung von Waffenlieferungen, die Opposition gegen jede Form von Unterdrückung und das Einstehen für demokratische und gleichberechtigte Verhältnisse im Kontext des Krieges in Gaza von Mitgliedern unserer Partei in der Öffentlichkeit permanent angegriffen worden sind. Wären diese Positionen in unserer Partei verinnerlicht worden, wäre unsere Haltung bei Ausbruch der neusten Eskalation unmissverständlich gewesen: Waffenstillstand jetzt, Unterstützung einer demokratischen politischen Lösung, die auch das Selbstbestimmungsrecht des palästinensischen Volkes berücksichtigt, klare Ablehnung aller Angriffe auf Zivilist:innen von beiden Seiten. Statt eine solche internationalistische Haltung einzunehmen, schlossen sich unsere Abgeordneten unmittelbar nach dem 7. Oktober mit allen anderen Parteien im Bundestag inklusive der AfD zusammen, um Waffenlieferungen nach Außen und Repression nach Innen zu fordern. Für die Verzehnfachung der Waffenlieferungen an Israel seit Oktober 2023 und für die massive Verschärfung staatlicher Angriffe sowohl gegen die Palästinasolidarität als auch gegen die palästinensische Gemeinde trägt unsere Partei darum eine nicht zu leugnende Mitschuld. 

Im Bewusstsein der Gefahr, die diese öffentliche Haltung für die Glaubwürdigkeit der Linken als internationalistische Partei bedeutete, haben wir in den vergangenen Monaten einerseits gemeinsam mit vielen anderen Genoss:innen der Partei auf Demonstrationen und Veranstaltungen unsere Stimme gegen Krieg und Besatzung erhoben. Und andererseits haben wir diese Stimme auch immer wieder in unsere Partei selbst hineingetragen. So ging etwa der Beschluss „Sofortiger Waffenstillstand und Stopp der Unterstützung für den Krieg in Gaza“ der Hauptversammlung des Bezirksverbands Mitte vom 23. März auf unsere Initiative zurück. Wir haben uns dafür eingesetzt, dass das Wahlmaterial zumindest in Mitte durch Plakate ergänzt wird, die einen Stopp der deutschen Unterstützung für den Krieg in Gaza fordern. Und wir haben gemeinsam mit vielen anderen Genoss:innen in der Linken unsere Gruppe im Bundestag dazu aufgerufen, einen Antrag zur Anerkennung Palästinas zu stellen. 

Während wir bei jedem Schritt stets bemüht gewesen sind, einen freien Meinungsaustausch innerhalb unserer BO zu gewährleisten und uns auf allen Ebenen bei der Ausarbeitung der Parteiposition einzubringen, müssen wir konstatieren, dass der Umgang mit internationalistischen Positionen vonseiten bedeutender Teile der Partei in den letzten Monaten besorgniserregende Züge angenommen hat. In diesem Kontext heben wir beispielhaft hervor:

  • Die Teilnahme von Berliner Abgeordneten der Partei am Bündnis „Gegen antisemitischen Terror“ und spezifisch ihre Unterzeichnung einer Erklärung, die staatliche Repression gegen den u.a. von Mitgliedern der Linken mitorganisierten Palästina-Kongress faktisch legitimiert und zum Gegenprotest aufruft. Die beiden Abgeordneten machten sich Eins mit deutschen Rechten aus CDU und FDP, um den Organisator:innen des Kongresses, zu denen viele jüdische Linke zählen, „die Verbreitung antisemitischen Hasses“ vorzuwerfen.
  • Die Organisation einer Blockade gegen eine linke palästinasolidarische Demonstration durch eine Landtagsabgeordnete der Linken in Halle.
  • Die Unterstützung vonseiten einer sächsischen linken Abgeordneten und Sprecherin für antifaschistische Politik für ein Vereinsverbots gegen Handala Leipzig.

Während in der Öffentlichkeit mit Hetze und Verleumdung die staatliche Repression gegen linke Aktivist:innen innerhalb und außerhalb der Partei angefeuert wird, wird in der Partei selbst die notwendige Debatte eingeschränkt. So entschied sich eine knappe Mehrheit der Delegierten auf dem Berliner Landesparteitag vom 27. April für eine Nichtbefassung der beiden palästinabezogenen Anträge aus Mitte und Neukölln, die in ihren jeweiligen Bezirken eine breite Unterstützung gefunden hatten. Einige von denen, die innerhalb der Partei die inhaltliche Debatte abwehren, fordern nach Außen hin lautstark die Kriminalisierung von Palästinasolidarität und Unterstützung für Israels Krieg.  

Das neuste Wahlergebnis zeigt, dass die Tilgung internationalistischer Positionen aus unserem öffentlichen Profil und die Unterstützung der deutschen Staatsräson die Glaubwürdigkeit unserer Partei nur noch weiter untergräbt. Denn gerade jetzt ist eine starke Linke nötig, die die Ablehnung der deutschen Unterstützung für Israels Krieg in der breiteren Bevölkerung und die wachsende Solidaritätsbewegung zu einem geeinten politischen Ausdruck verhilft. Eine Linke, die überall mutig gegen Unterdrückung, Repression, und für einen sofortigen und dauerhaften Waffenstillstand eintritt. Eine Linke, die dort geeint auftritt, wo es zählt, weil sie eine demokratische Debattenkultur aushalten kann. Wir ziehen aus dem Wahlergebnis den Schluss, dass nicht nur wir an einer solchen Linken interessiert sind, sondern auch unzählige Mitstreiter:innen außerhalb unserer Partei, mit denen wir seit Monaten auf der Straße sind, sowie weite Teile der Bevölkerung, die auf der Suche nach einer Alternative zu Militarismus und Waffenlieferungen sind. 

Um diese Menschen zu erreichen und sie für eine internationalistische Linke zu gewinnen, wollen wir als BO Wedding von nun an innerhalb der Solidaritätsbewegung als Mitglieder unserer Partei deutlich erkennbar sein. Wir folgen damit dem Beispiel unserer Genoss:innen aus Neukölln, die seit langem mit Parteifahnen und -transpis an den wöchentlichen Friedensdemonstrationen teilnehmen. Mit ihnen und allen weiteren Mitstreiter:innen wollen wir deutlich machen: Wenn die Linke als sozialistische Partei bestehen bleiben soll, muss die Verteidigung und Ausweitung internationalistischer Positionen in der Linken ein Anliegen der ganzen Friedensbewegung werden!

 

Basisorganisation Wedding 

Linksjugend Wedding

Anti-Wagenknecht

Wagenknecht’s successes represent a dark day for the German left.


26/06/2024

The New Left Review’s recent decision to platform the German politician Sahra Wagenknecht has been controversial, to put it mildly. Wagenknecht’s party, the Bündnis Sahra Wagenknecht, breaks with much of the German political spectrum. Borrowing from the Left party, with whom she was formerly affiliated, she is vocally critical of neoliberal capitalism; she is also opposed to Germany’s growing role as an arms exporter. On immigration, on the other hand, she freely borrows from right-wing rhetoric, playing into traditional right-wing anxieties about “parallel societies”. Perhaps uniquely on the German political spectrum, Wagenknecht is entirely unafraid of being critical of Israel, calling out both German arms sales to Israel, and all the forms of state repression that critique of Zionism is met with in Germany. By claiming that her positions are consensus with the majority of Germans, Wagenknecht is able to position herself as a hypocrisy-free, tell-it-like-it-is politician, attracting voters from all over the spectrum. Wagenknecht’s 2024 EU electoral debut has been immensely successful: her party have secured 6.2% of the vote, compared to Die Linke’s dismal 2.7%.

***

The controversy around Wagenknecht being platformed by the NLR largely revolves around her active endorsement of socially conservative positions: on migration, on LGBT rights, on the environment. As with most such voices, she couches her positions in the language of Common Sense, and emphasises the need to “meet people where they are”. To some dubious credit, she is at least honest about holding these positions. Whether she sincerely subscribes to them, or merely adopts them as the authentic will of the German people, is as yet somewhat unclear.

On the face of it, Wagenknecht seems like a fairly run-of-the-mill right-wing cultural figure when she rants about the woke left (“lifestyle leftists”), playing up tired caricatures of the left as single-mindedly obsessed with virtue signalling over their hatred of cis white men. What Wagenknecht excels at, however, is couching her most reactionary political positions in left-wing language. Ultimately, this is what makes her dangerous. Today, the left is in deep crisis, and this crisis makes it easy to fall for simplistic narratives that promise easy solutions to capitalist stagnation. It is critical to look beyond these narratives to the reality of the world that politicians like Wagenknecht promise to build.

Wagenknecht’s linguistic sleight of hand is strongest when she talks about immigration, criticising migration systems under neoliberalism, rather than migrants. Her solution, of course, is tighter borders and better policing of migrants — the wholesale adoption of far-right policies. None of this is to say that critiques of migration under neoliberalism are automatically invalid; on the contrary, they grow increasingly relevant with capitalist decline and the climate crisis. Yet Wagenknecht, critiquing the “hollowness of neoliberal immigration policies”, blames these policies for open borders – a phenomenon that exists effectively nowhere. This is playing fast and loose with reality. Neoliberal migration systems, rather, tend to represent the exact opposite, being characterised by a selective permeability that deems certain forms of movement to be worth more than others. Migration under neoliberalism is managed to suit capitalist accumulation, to threaten wages, and – above all – to suppress labour movements through the enforcement of border regimes that leave migrants in a permanent state of fear for their legal status.

One of the unfortunate side-effects of neoliberalism being rather vaguely defined is that it allows Wagenknecht, like many of her contemporaries, to transform it from a set of economic and political decisions into a foil: defined as precisely that which she is not, rather than as an actually-existing-ideology. When Wagenknecht herself must adopt neoliberal positions, neoliberalism simply becomes something else.

Moving past the economic, Wagenknecht takes special exception to “parallel societies […] as in Sweden or France” describing her desire to “avoid a spiral of mutual distrust and hostility”. But this analysis of (German) society is deeply fatalistic, and ignores how societally conditioned xenophobia is, through a myriad cultural institutions. The assumption that there exists a bar beyond which societies are threatened by multiculturalism (and that Germany has approached this point) is based on false premises, both historically and geographically. Contemporary notions of ethno-cultural homogeneity are, by and large, a byproduct of the emergence of nation-states under capitalism. Ethnic homogeneity has simply never been the norm before the modern era. In a more contemporary context, it is important to highlight the source of German concerns around migration. At the peak of the refugee crisis, the city of Istanbul had more Syrian refugees than the entire European continent. This is not to say that Turkey has necessarily handled its own crisis particularly well — but the instinct to believe that Germany is “full” is not an organic one. Rather, these concerns are actively manufactured, by the likes of publications like Bild, and by the German political establishment, that has grown exceedingly comfortable with scapegoating Arab migrants as an intrinsically dangerous, antisemitic threat to German society.

Both Marxist and liberal theories of nationalism cite the utility of a homogenous national identity to a domestic bourgeoisie: it allows for the subjugation of the working class, under the belief that at least they are being oppressed by their people. This is a dynamic that Wagenknecht appears to be entirely comfortable with, when she refers to the opposition between smaller domestic firms and big MNCs, as “as important as the polarity between capital and labour.”

Wagenknecht is at least correct in pointing to the housing crisis being a major factor enabling contemporary German xenophobia. While the crisis is far from unique to Germany, the discourse surrounding the socialisation of housing and construction is perhaps better developed in Germany than anywhere else in Europe, due to the successes of Berlin’s Deutsche Wohnen & Co. Enteignen referendum bid. And while Wagenknecht has spoken positively of the campaign in the past, she has done so only in passing – a tweet here, an approving nod there. When the campaign is upheld as an example of successful organising and mobilisation on the left, she chooses – rather than trying to build momentum through their successes – to rant about the rest of the woke left.

Europe’s migration crisis is largely a housing crisis, a crisis that would remain even if migration were to reach a net zero. When Wagenknecht chooses to play up petty German nationalism, resorting to simplistic “fuck off we’re full”s rather than meaningfully address the very material stagnation in affordable housing, she is making a conscious choice – profits over people.

***

One might, at a stretch, be able to overlook Wagenknecht’s social chauvinism, were she committed to genuine leftist politics elsewhere. One could make the case that her social chauvinism is all an electoral ruse anyway. After all, people seem to be drawn to socially conservative positions in times of economic crisis, and if Wagenknecht truly believes that she can herald in an economic miracle, she might just be talking the talk. But Wagenknecht’s economic dreams are not going to usher in the era of growth she seems to believe they will. Far too often, she slips into the easy politics of nostalgia.

In the New Left Review, Wagenknecht comes across as particularly invested in upholding the idea of the German Mittelstand as the worthy capitalists of yore. To her, the Mittelstände would have generated economic splendour for Germany in perpetuity, were it not for the meddling neoliberals, the SPD. And here lies yet another of her fundamental misunderstandings of neoliberalism and its history. The deindustrialisation of western economies, the globalisation of supply chains, and the positioning of finance capital to capture value created within them has been part and parcel of capital’s renewed onslaught on labour in the global North, precisely encapsulated by neoliberalism. But the advent of neoliberalism was not a perversion of good, honest capitalism, imposed from above by evil, scheming politicians like Reagan or Thatcher (or Schröder in Germany, we are told). Rather, it was a natural response to a very genuine crisis in industrial capitalism. While the precise mechanisms and root causes of the crisis are subject to debate, the broader ideas are less controversial: the rapid growth of global industrial capacity and international competition led to a subsequent collapse in the prices of industrial goods, leading to shrinking rates of profit within the industrial sector, leading to the breakdown of the post-war compromise between capital and the labour movement. 

Ultimately, it is historically and analytically incorrect to paint the processes of commodification and financialisation that neoliberalism represents, as being somehow dialectically opposed to industrial capitalism — they are two sides of the same coin, the coin being capital itself. The seemingly “clean” capitalism that existed in the post-war global North found material support in the subjection of the global South to a far dirtier, more expropriative capitalism. Neoliberalism represents the reflexisation, or the turning-inwards, of these very processes.

***

It is worth pointing out that Wagenknecht has simply never claimed to be an anticapitalist, and that her politics are, at best, a form of conservative social democracy. But the socdem fantasy to which Wagenknecht wishes to return is a relic of the past. Post-war Germany represented a very specific form of capitalist organisation, and while the titans of German industry sang the paeans of the Mittelstände for decades, contrasting them to large American conglomerates, these distinctions are meaningless in an era with globally collapsing profit rates and deindustrialisation. Wagenknecht points out, for instance, how German capitalists tended to reinvest their profits, rather than engage in stock buybacks. But in doing so, they were simply being rational economic actors in an era with sky-high returns on investment, and a captive American market for German products. Conflating this with some sort of moral superiority to modern corporations is absurd: we live in a very different economy today than we did even two decades ago. 

Today, Wagenknecht seems to envision a world in which Chinese consumers, enticed by the brand value of German manufacturing, would act as another massive market for the goods that the Mittelstände pump out – all while Germany remains supremely unperturbed by Chinese industry. But brand value and intellectual property can only go so far. In an age of industrial overcapacity, price-based competition is inevitable, and China’s ability to leverage economies of scale, cheap wage labour, and increasing amounts of robotisation make one thing perfectly clear: capital has no use for German industrial expansion.

It is possible to take a charitable stance here and argue that Wagenknecht exaggerates her affinity for small business in an effort to attract votes. This is a failed strategy: her precious Mittelstände are far too wary of her, because they are genuinely rational actors who would happily abandon the “virtues” she ascribes to them in search of higher profits. Thus, if both her social and her economic positions are cynically embellished, what precisely remains? When all is said and done, Wagenknecht’s politics boils down to the politics of nostalgia—she scratches the itch longing for a return to the simpler era of the 70s, where men were men, the Bosch factory was the Bosch factory, and the only foreigners around were a few Gastarbeiter (emphasis on Gast). How do we engage with this fantasy?

A good start would be to acknowledge that these yearnings for the past will amount to very little. The post-war exception was the exception, and capitalism with a human face will not return to the west. Rather than ceding ground to the increasingly desperate efforts of social democrats to orchestrate the return of German industry under capitalist conditions, the left should spend its energies discussing liberation from the profit motive. The decommodification of housing provides an excellent starting point, considering how much work civil society has already put into it. Germany’s large-scale industrial transition to green energy, too, is critical: but the profit-driven German bourgeoisie have proven (and shall continue to prove) to be utterly useless at bringing about this transition.

***

The Antideutsch current of leftism is infamous in Germany for their subscription to very specific readings of Adorno and the Frankfurt School, bleeding into their seemingly unconditional solidarity with Israel and the United States of America. This has led to a uniquely German phenomenon, where parts of the left play up racist caricatures of Arabs as dangerous antisemites. One particular reading the Antideutsch subscribe to, building off the work of Canadian philosopher Moishe Postone, casts antisemitism as a form of foreshortened anti-capitalism—a rebellion against the abstract, against the domination of capitalist relations, combined with upholding, the honest, trans-historic nature of concrete industrial labour. In Nazi Germany, the former (through historical contingency) came to be personified by Jews, and the latter by Aryan Germans.

Postone’s analysis suffers from numerous stumbling blocks. Yet, his framing of this foreshortening of anti-capitalism is a useful analytical tool. Ultimately, capitalism represents a very specific mode of production, governed by the reduction of social labour into the value-form, with historically specific relations of production. The elimination of the “dishonest” spheres of capitalism will not lead to emancipation from capital, for these spheres are essential to capital in the first place, industrial or otherwise. Wagenknecht falls into precisely such a modern foreshortening of anti-capitalism, by centering her incomplete rebellion against a foggy neoliberalism instead of against the broader spectrum of capitalist relations themselves. Her cynical use of anti-migrant rhetoric to try to signal some grand exorcism of the spectre of this neoliberalism will not usher in a more “humane” capitalism. Instead, it merely serves to reinforce the far-right attribution of the evils of an increasingly brutal, expropriative capitalism onto the figure of the migrant. And in doing so, she pushes German society further onto dangerously thin ice.

(all direct quotes in this article are taken from the NLR interview)

LIMBO – A living room without walls

Madalena Wallenstein de Castro describes her project that will be shown during 48h Neukölln

Madalena Wallenstein de Castro is a Berlin artist focusing on social themes in the city, specifically the trials faced by people experiencing houselessness. Her art installation will be featured during 48h Neukölln, from the 28th – 30th of June as well at Karuna Kompass on the 6th of July. More information on the program of both events is below and you can find out more about her work at: www.madawallen.com or on her Istagram page, @wallen_de_castro.

Thematic focus of the project

This work is the result of a daily confrontation with a social problem that has bothered me for a long time because I have always lived in places where it could not be ignored. Houseless people are harshly discriminated against and become therefore invisible, which has always bothered me a lot. This was the essential impulse for me to dedicate myself to these issues with an artistic project.

Stillness – a need and a right

Berlin is probably not the place that best represents stillness. By definition, a city is a place of flurry, where billions of people simultaneously trace their paths through urban space – a moving mass that constantly flickers, a loud diversity of voices that makes the city what it is.

It is easy to get lost in this mass if you cannot find silence – it can quickly become too loud. Stillness becomes a place of longing and thus plays an essential role in urban life: it can hold up the (imaginary) walls of privacy when you need it and help you to find yourself. A place of quietness is a place of protection. Everyone has the right to this protected space, but the access to it is limited.

Apart from building houses, urban planning and architecture aims to create places where stillness can be found outside the private sphere. However, whose stillness is considered here?
Unfortunately, the urban landscape is not inclusive for everyone. When you do not have walls around you, privacy blends with public space and tranquillity remains just a desire.

Houselessness is a problem that we encounter on a daily basis, but which many of us prefer to ignore. This issue is not taken seriously politically nor socially. Often people are simply moved from place to place and forced to live in a parallel world, hidden from the rest of normality, suspended in a state of vagueness.

The reasons for houselessness, as well as that ways to deal with it, are very diverse and should not be generalised. They are structural problems caused by many factors that characterise capitalism: As a system that thrives on the ideology of productivity and economic exploitation, capitalism excludes many people who cannot cope with the strict rules of behaviour in society. Its structure is not only a form of exclusion of individuals from so-called normality, but also includes and results from a marginalisation that takes place on multiple levels. Inside an intersectional structure, factors such as gender, class or race play a very important role in this – the layered complexity of the whole issue should therefore not be lost.

FINTA* without walls

FINTA* people experiencing homelessness face additional challenges because they are oppressed by a patriarchal structure. They are highly stigmatised by a discourse of guilt, which leads to dehumanisation, and therefore they hide more and become even more invisible in everyday life than others, who do not have to face this specific oppression. So it is important that the stories and voices of unhoused FINTA* people become better known and that is why I decided to dedicate my project to them.

The term FINTA* refers to people who are discriminated against in the patriarchy. It includes all people who describe themselves as women; intersex people (possibly diverse as a registered gender); non-binary people (nonbinary, enby for short), trans and transgender people (trans men, trans women and trans non-binary people) or agender. I deliberately opted for FINT* and not FLINTA* because for me there is a difference between sexual orientation (LGB*) and gender identity (FINT*).

In conversations with affected people, I learned that, for example, daily hygiene is usually not possible, which could lead to infections. In addition, menstruating people have hardly any support for intimate hygiene products or painkillers for cramps. Again, rest and stillness also play an important role here – on the street, people who menstruate have no place to which they can retreat to recover.

For now, my project focuses on the perspectives of three women, Janet, Habibi and Janita, who accepted my invitation to work with them. As this project will be continued, my interest is to find more queer perspectives on the same theme.

Hostile architecture – a form of marginalisation

In theory, urban planning should be concerned with the development of programmes that improve the quality of life of the population in the city. This refers to spatial and social structures that take into account the needs (including the need for stillness) of all citizens.

In practice, however, the meaning of “needs of all citizens” is questionable – urban planning is still very discriminatory on many levels. A clear example of this is hostile architecture. It is designed, funded and implemented with the explicit motive of exclusion and its main aim is to produce a sense of security through social control. Its main purpose is to exclude houseless people from certain public spaces. This is achieved not only through spatial interventions such as spikes on the ground or the use of chemicals, but also through the installation of incessant music, which prevents peace and quiet in public spaces.

Yet the most common objects are benches made of unpleasant materials such as concrete or plastic, with armrests or so short that it is impossible to rest or sleep for any length of time. The formal research for the creation of the first object of this project was based on this urban phenomenon.

Addiction – a consequence of marginalisation

Addiction is one of the most obvious faces of this problem. Contrary to what many people think, it is more often a consequence than the cause of someone being unhoused. Life on the streets is hard and gets easier if one is numb. The logic behind it is that simple. Because most people cannot understand this logic, people with addiction problems are punished and criminalised, which doesn’t solve the problem at all.

According to the World Health Organisation (WHO), addiction is defined as a disease and should be treated through various methods such as therapy. Solutions can only be found by recognising the needs of addicts. Here too, social judgement mechanisms (shame and guilt) make it difficult to deal openly with the problem and drive those affected into isolation and invisibility.

Melania and The Divine Comedy

Melania has been living on the streets of Berlin for a long time and is severely addicted to drugs. She is one of the many people I meet in my everyday life, who made me start this project. We met in an underground station and through our daily contact, I discovered that she knows The Divine Comedy by heart because she often quotes parts of it in the middle of conversations.

The poetic text by Dante Alighieri tells of a journey through three otherworldly realms: hell (Inferno), purgatory (Purgatorio) and paradise (Paradiso). At the door of the infernal realm there is a place called Limbo. In classical mythology and in Dante’s poem, Limbo is located in the underworld and functions as an enclosure of hell. This is where those who have not been baptised Catholic are sent – they are punished for something for which they are actually not guilty. In other words, they are being marginalised. In the text, as an institution, the church has the power to decide to whom certain rights are applied. This reflects a logic of punishment that is so strongly characterised by the capitalist society that divides us into good and bad. For me, the logic described in the work by Dante and the logic under which many people are marginalised on a daily basis is the same, and they reflect each other.

Besides this, the term limbo also stands for concepts such as margin, oblivion, negligence or the status of obscurity and, in my opinion, describes the situation of unhoused. LIMBO has thus become the title of my work.

Aims and realisation of the project

With this project, I am trying to build bridges between unhoused people and those with a safe roof over their heads. One of the main aims of this project is to make those visible who are far too often overlooked.

The research for this work is mainly based on personal contacts with affected people, other artists, scientists and activists who deal with the topic. Networking is therefore a very important part of the work. Through interviews with different unhoused people, I try not only to better understand the problem, but also to portray the diversity of voices and faces of this problem. The interviews also play an important role in my formal research. “What should your living room look like if you had one?” is the question whose answer influences the design of my installation.

LIMBO is a long-term project that I have divided into three parts. The first part is an invitation to exchange. A place – an installation in the form of a living-room – where people can discuss the topic. The next steps of the project will be developed slowly one by one and will always be related to each other. My plans for the second and third part are still merely ideas about how the project can continue to unfold.

In the second part, I will focus more deeply on defensive architecture and try to create a critical discourse about it with various interventions in public space.

In the third part, the interviews and conversations that have been taking place continuously since the start of the project shall be used as material for a podcast. To this end, I will build a mobile booth in which recordings can be made directly on the streets.

LIMBO – Part I, A Living Room Without Walls is a room installation where one can experience many things: It depicts a living room whose walls no longer exist. The living room that does not belong to any flat – a space of stillness outside the private sphere. The idea of showing this installation on the street is to create a site-specific sense, because the work directly reflects what happens to people who live there. The main gesture here is the invitation to the public to meet us in our living room and get to know the reality of houselessness from the perspective of two affected women, Janet Amon and Habibi. With this invitation, I would above all like to facilitate communication between affected and non-affected people in order to possibly broaden the discourse on the subject.

Presentation of the project

This work will be first presented in the context of the 48h Neukölln art festival at Weichselplatz between the 28th and the 30th June. Here, the audience is invited to visit the installation and experience it in three ways: One can have an individual insight on some experiences the two women went through when living on the streets, by watching their interviews and getting to know this reality through their personal perspective – this will be possible throughout the festival, from the 28th to the 30th of June.

At the opening of the exhibition (28.06 at 19h) Janita Juvonen will be reading some parts of her book about her personal experience on the street.

On the 29th and 29th of June, at 15h, both Janet and Habibi will be present and the audience is invited to play “The Memory of The Powerful Women” with them – a game we developed together, to enable the dialogue with the audience and break the ice.

The installation will pre presented the same way a second time in cooperation with the Karuna Kompass association at the Karuna Café at Boxhagener Platz, on the 6th of July from 10h until 17h.

PRESENTATION 1
48h Neukölln // 28.-30.06
Weichselplatz
28.06
19h // Reading by Janita Juvonen 19-22h // Installation
29.06
15h-18h // Memory der Starken Frauen with Janet Amon and Habibi
14-22h // Installation 30.06
15h-18h // Memory der Starken Frauen with Janet Amon and Habibi
14-19h // Installation

 

PRESENTATION 2
Karuna Kompass // 06.07
Café Pavillion // Boxhagener Platz
11h // Memory der Starken Frauen with Janet Amon and Habibi
10-17h // Installation

We are glad to invite you all to join us in our living room!

Julian Assange is free. Are we?

Denouncing war crimes is a duty

Julian Assange was finally given back his freedom. After 5 years of detention, the journalist and Wikileaks founder was released from Belmarsh prison. Yet, the decision has a bitter aftertaste for human rights defenders, journalists and academics. The decision that eventually led to his freedom was a deal with the government of the United States, which had charged the investigative journalist with espionage. Through the organization Wikileaks, which was founded by Assange, documents proving war crimes committed by American troops 15 years ago, were published. These documents were leaked by Chelsea Manning, a former United States Army Soldier. Until the date, Manning was incarcerated for seven years for violations of the US-American espionage act for leaking classified documents to Wikileaks.

Yesterday’s release of Julian Assange was much celebrated around the world. But it actually represents a setback for human rights defenders. Charges against Assange had not been dropped. By signing the deal, he agreed to his conviction of espionage. 

Through Assange’s imprisonment, limits for press and academic freedom have been drawn: do not publish illegally obtained documents. Yet, the inhumane treatment of Julian Assange, denounced even by the UN-Special Rapporteur on Torture, points to a second boundary: do not mess with the government of the United States. 

It is easy to be a human rights defender in the West when it comes to the “usual culprits”: Russia, Iran, China. Conferences are frequent and funds abundant. Despite the obviously dangerous nature of their profession, researchers and journalists covering Russia war crimes in Ukraine enjoyed abundant support from the European community. And they should. But the same cannot be said about human rights defenders covering Palestine. They were silenced, defamed, victimized by police violence, and lost their jobs – and were even temporarily banned from German territory.

Before the public persona Assange comes the human being. His freedom should be celebrated. The real question is: has the government deal legalized his illegal imprisonment? He might be free, but has he obtained real freedom to continue his mission? 

Is the public allowed to hold Western governments accountable? Are human rights defenders allowed to do their work, regardless of the country’s flag? 

In Latin America, state violence is researched by a large community. The investigation of human rights abuses is an established practice in academia. In Germany, in the middle of two wars, and against the repression of critical voices regarding war crimes in Palestine and institutional violence, holding Western governments accountable has become an act of great courage – even in a country with a so-called Feminist Foreign Policy. 

Assange is free, but are we free?