wretched-of-the-earth-frantz-fanon

xlivPREFACEPREFACExlv.·.•.we did with them!" There was no doubt in our minds they acceptedour ideal since they were accusing us of not respectingit. Europe then really believed in its mission: it had Hellenizedthe Asians and created this new species, the Greco-Roman blacks.Pragmatic as ever, we added, quite among ourselves, "Oh letthem shout, it will get it out of their system; their bark is worsethan their bite."Then came another generation, which shifted the question.Its writers and poets took enormous pains to explain to us thatour values poorly matched the reality of their lives and that theycould neither quite reject them nor integrate them. Roughly, thismeant: You are making monsters out ofus; your humanism wantsus to be universal and your racist practices are differentiating us.We listened to them, very nonchalantly. Colonial administratorsare not paid to read Hegel, so he's seldom on their reading list,but they don't need this philosopher to tell them that unhappyconsciences get tangled up in their contradictions. Ultimate endresult: nil. So let us perpetuate their misfortune; nothing will comeout of it but hot air. If, the experts told us, there were the slightesthint of a demand in their lamentations, it would be for integration.Consenting to it, ofcourse, would be out of the question:we would ruin ,the system, which, as you know, relies on grossexploitation. All we need do is dangle a carrot in front of theireyes and they will come running. As for anything like a revolt,we had absolutely nothing to worry about: what lucid "native"would set about massacring the dashing sons of Europe with thesole intention of becoming Europeans like them? In short, weencouraged their melancholic moods, and we thought it wouldnot be bad, for once, to award the Goncourt Prize to a black.That was before 1939.1961. Listen: "Let us not lose time in useless laments and sickeningmimicry. Let us leave this Europe which never stops talkingof man yet massacres him at every one of its street corners, atevery corner of the world. For centuries it has stifled virtually thewhole ofhumanity in the name ofa so-called 'spiritual adventure.'''The tone is new. Who dares voice it? An Mrican, a man fromthe Third World, a former colonized subject. "Europe," he adds,"has gained such a mad and reckless momentum ... that it isheading toward the brink from which we would be advised toremove ourselves." In other words, Europe is done for. A truththat is hard to swallow, but of which all of us are-are we not,fellow Europeans?-convinced deep down.We must make one reservation, however. When one Frenchman,for example, says to another: "We're done for!" -which,to my knowledge, has happened practically every day since1930- it's a passionate discourse, burning with rage and love,where the speaker puts himself in the same boat as his fellowcountrymen. And then as a rule he adds: "Unless ..." Everyonegets the message: one cannot afford to make a single mistake. Ifhis recommendations are not followed to the letter, then and onlythen will the country be done for. In short, it's a threat, followedby a piece of advice, and such remarks shock even less becausethey spring from a national intersubjectivity. When Fanon, onthe contrary, says that Europe is heading for ruin, far from utteringa cry of alarm, he is offering a diagnostic. Dr. Fanon claimshe neither considers itto be a hopeless case-miracles have beenknown to exist-nor is he offering to cure it. He is stating thefact that it is in its death throes. As an outsider, he bases his diagnosticon the symptoms he has observed. As for treating it, no:he has other things to worry about. Whether it survives or perishes,that's not his problem. For this reason his book is scandalous.And if you mumble, sniggering awkwardly: "He's really gotit in for us!" you have missed the true nature of the scandal, forFanon has got nothing "in for you" at all; his book, which is sucha hot issue for others, leaves you out in the cold. It often talksabout you, but never to you. Gone are the black Goncourts andthe yellow Nobels: the days of the colonized prizewinners areover. A "French-speaking" ex-native bends the language to newrequirements, fashions it for his own use, and speaks to the colonizedalone: "Natives ofall the underdeveloped countries unite!"