The further question Josh raises of the importance of the status of the leader of a revolutionary movement is very appealing to me and reminds me of other cases of revolutionary leaders we have analyzed, such as the Baader Meinhof case. We often see the visionaries of the revolutionary movements rise to leadership positions within the movements. Thus, as we’ve seen within the Baader Meinhof case, the most radical members of a movement end up leading the movement, which leaves the movement susceptible to becoming much more extreme than what the initial supporters are willing to stand for and brings up the worry that the movement will lose the support that it once had behind it, the further it progresses. On the other hand, if the leader of a movement lessens their radical aims in order to create soft change, they face the issue of potentially losing support because they’ve become “institutionalised” and no longer represent the needs of the people, as MLK has been criticized for in the later parts of the Civil Rights movement by followers who left to support the actions of SNCC, Malcolm X, or the Black Panthers instead. In a lot of ways, the radicality of a leader is important in preserving the fire behind a revolution and keeping the support alive, so it is a difficult reputation to abandon. This brings into question the durability of a campaign led by a highly radical leader, as with Allende, when the exceptional radical opinions of the leader necessarily imply that they don’t represent the more moderate views of the masses behind the rebellion. Therefore, does a “revolutionary” leader need to concede their vision in order to maintain support and have any hope for achieving moderate change, or in giving up their revolutionary status do they also risk losing the original supporters that brought them to their leadership positions? It seems like a lose-lose situation for creating distinct revolutionary change unless a revolutionary leader is willing to (and somehow has the support to) use their minority of radical support to ignore the claims of the masses to further their vision. Otherwise, as Jake and Josh pointed out, maybe gradual, institutionalized change is what’s necessary, though it may come at the cost of losing their original supporters.
Author Archives: Skylar Chaney
Inevitable Corruption of a Revolution
I wonder why intellectuals working on revolutionary change seem to inevitably either lose touch with the masses and fall into the place of the dictator they tried to overthrow or they fight a losing battle for change that the masses seem to never get behind. I’ll suggest that the unfortunate state of the conscious revolutionary is a result of the fast-paced and necessarily spontaneous nature of revolutions and how it’s very difficult to keep the intellectual, authoritative work of the revolution in line with the views of all areas of the masses.
As we saw in The Baader Meinhof Complex film and we’ve seen in revolutionary cases like the Iranian and Haitian revolutions, the beginnings of revolutions seem to always be pure and righteous. It’s the slave standing up against the master’s torment. It’s the man refusing to obey the police officer. The activist who needs to take a stand against blatantly cruel acts from their government. We’ve seen that revolutions seem to be triggered by spontaneous action, usually in line with general dissatisfaction from the masses, and that carefully planned and prepared-for revolutions often fail to occur. Somehow, in a short period of time, there are enough people in the masses who feel the same way about an issue and in some quick early movements, decide to move together in protest. The revolution seems to fall apart, however, once the beginnings are already set in motion and someone needs to decide where it goes. The role of the intellectual in this case, when choosing the correct action to move forward, is to either survey the masses and master what the masses want (which takes time—enough for the spark of the beginnings to die off) or take the responsibility of deciding where the revolution goes into their own hands (which necessarily implies that the work of the revolution cannot still be in the interests of the entire community—unless there is a quick execution of effective propaganda to the masses). When the intellectual revolutionary takes on the responsibility of leading the revolution, it loses its purity; no longer is the revolution a beautiful concurrence of values and interests of a mass, but it becomes the result of planning by an individual—an individual that cannot possibly read the minds or understand the backgrounds of thousands, and an individual who is subject to fears and desires and impulses as any other human being. Therefore, if a revolution is able to continue past its harmonious and just beginnings, it must be led by an individual who will inevitably lead the movement in a direction that the masses no longer support, thus leaving the intellectual leader in a position very similar to the oppressive regime the revolution sought to overthrow.
Hegemony of the Art World
The art world is often dominated by its own tendency to overvalue drawings and paintings by famous (often white, male, and dead) artists. Too often, new, relevant, and striking pieces by lesser-known artists are overlooked in favor of pieces which attract more attention from the name next to the piece rather than the work itself. In art history classes, students are taught which pieces they should treasure, taught to value the past importance of a piece more than critically evaluating its place in modern times. For example, Picasso’s work was rebellious and revolutionary almost 100 years ago, strongly contrasting the accepted styles of that time, though his work viewed in a modern context seems to fall flat, as most view the work to be great simply because it is a “Picasso” and his styling has been copied and reworked in so many ways in the following 100 years that in this period the Picasso work in itself seems cliché, having completely lost its original meaning.
The exhibits at the Clark museum in Williamstown are a prime example of reinforcing the hegemony of art culture. If you’ve seen their latest exhibit “Drawn to Greatness” you’ve seen the featured gallery filled with brief sketches and seemingly mediocre works, though selected because of the “greatness” behind the name of the artists. All of the names, from Picasso to Pollock to Cezanne to Degas framed along the walls, though only brief sketches or studies for other works. As I walked through on the opening night of the gallery, I asked myself whether I would like these pieces at all if the name tags weren’t right beside them or whether if a simple unknown artist based in Williamstown had produced these exact pieces whether they would’ve had any chance to land in the Clark.
The truth is, the Clark doesn’t have shows which feature local artists—I’ve asked the front desk and they laughed, informing me that the majority of the work they show is over a century old. It’s an institution reinforcing the hegemony of the art world, in that only a few artists ever “are discovered” (due to extreme branding and marketing), at which point their pieces are sold to economic elites (though those responsible for marketing and contracting the art get a fair share of the profit), then for centuries after the rise of the artist, economic elites display the pieces as a symbol of wealth and reinforce the brand of the artist in order to sell the pieces again for a larger profit (at this point the profits stay within the class of economic elites). In example, in 2006, Hollywood entertainment mogul David Geffen, currently worth $8.4 billion, sold Jackson Pollock’s “Number 17A” for $200 million to hedge fund manager Kenneth Griffin. At this point, Jackson Pollock had been dead and buried for 50 years, and the piece had lost its original meaning as the meticulous release of pain and suffering for Pollock and turned into a status symbol for elites. Meanwhile countless starving artists produce sharp, engaging, and provocative pieces which go largely unseen and receive little recognition in comparison to the works of a few over-glorified artists.
Though art is an expressive and potentially revolutionary medium, we often see those in power (socially and economically) like the Clark museum feed into the act of over-glorifying the pieces of dead, white men while passing over new pieces from lesser known artists. Collectors and museums and even art studio and art history professors have the opportunity to change this dynamic by seeking out new artists to feature rather than regurgitate what they’ve been taught is “valuable art”. With the rise of social media, we also see many artists overriding the known system of the art world by gaining online fan bases, though it is largely seen in small drawings and paintings. It remains difficult to represent the textures and in-person effects of larger paintings online, thus in the world of paintings, the hegemony of the art world reigns supreme.
Identity in Revolutions
A part of this week’s readings that spoke to me was on human identity realized in the action of revolting. Camus made some interesting remarks on the process of the individual finding meaning in rebellion, noting that at the moment an individual turns to his master and says “no”, the rebel redefines himself and is loyal to certain aspects of himself that he demands to be respected. Camus notes that, “the man’s obstinate resistance now becomes the whole man, who is identified and summed up in this resistance. The part of himself that he wanted to be respected he proceeds to place above everything else and proclaims it preferable to everything, even to life itself.” (Camus, 15). His remarks seemed to complement Shah of Shahs, where Kapuscinski mentions that the people who participated in the Iranian Revolution felt alive and motivated, with a gleaming hope for the future and fueled by nostalgia. Camus notes, “Every act of rebellion expresses a nostalgia for innocence and an appeal to the essence of being.” (Camus, 105). Camus argues that in the moment of rebellion, the rebel not only finds a sense of value in his/herself, but also is able to feel more connected with his/her peers because the rebel acknowledges that their struggles are the same as his/her own. In The Rebel Camus states, “In absurdist experience, suffering is individual. But from the moment when a movement of rebellion begins, suffering is seen as a collective experience.” He continues, “I rebel—therefore we exist.” (Camus, 22).
The emphasis of finding value in one’s own life and the shared identity amongst all those in the predicament of the rebel reminds me of a question brought up in the first class, “why are revolutions so sexy?” (Or something similar.) From the readings, it seems clear why people are so drawn to the concept of rebellions or revolutions. Everyone craves the moment when they can value their self-worth above anything else. Everyone looks up to someone who is living a better life than themselves, someone who they’d like to be treated as equals with. The revolution offers an opportunity to finally put yourself first and demand that you are worth the ideal life you want, which is appealing to all. A revolution can give you meaning that you’ve never seen in yourself previously, both in how you view yourself and how you view yourself in relation to others.
On a side note, in this post I used the terms “revolting” and “rebelling” interchangeably,” which is a big no-no in Camus’ and Armitage’s books. I did so because, though I agree with Camus that revolutions differ from rebellions in that they are founded on ideas and seek to bring forward a new set of principles, I believe these differences are only clear in a wider view of the uprising or further along in the uprising, whereas the early stages of revolution — on the scale of the individual — are essentially rebellions, which later bring forth the motivating principles that separate the two terms.
Another angle on identity found in revolutions (revolutions as Camus described them) is the point Camus brought up that “History of man, in one sense, is the sum total of his successive rebellions.” (Camus, 107). This means that the only lasting significance and productive change in humanity is the result of revolution. Thus, if one values their own worth on their impact on the world, then they must rebel in order to implement change and have worth at all. Thus the rebel’s life, which challenges the current flow of society, is the only life that can have meaning.
Modifying National Vision in the Aftermath of Revolutions
An interesting point Kapuscinski makes in Shah of Shahs is on the aftermath of revolutions. He notes that revolutions are invigorating and meaningful while they’re happening, then shortly after, those same passionate participants are left with a hollow loss of meaning which longs for the excitement and hope the revolution once offered.
This phenomenon entices the question of how to reproduce the meaning and identity in a revolution and maintain this meaning. How, even, does a nation frame this (preserving the meaning found in revolutions) as their national objective and maintain this energy while also maintaining a stable government?
It’s interesting to note that the energy found in a revolution, at least in the case of Iran, seems to be strongly tied to a sense of euphoria and re-enchantment found in hope for attaining a better state of being (perhaps in similar idealized versions of the past). In many cases, as the world continues to progress and faces irreversible changes of modernity (i.e. technology, changes in culture, socialization, etc.), we face a time where our revolutions are motivated by ideals and euphoria of a time we can never return to. This can be attributed to part of the emptiness following revolutions—although participants may have “won” and achieved their political ambitions, they will never be able to regain the national state of being that fueled them while revolting since the nation has progressed irreversibly and that state is no longer attainable.
Thus, leaders of nations following revolutions must carefully channel the energy and idealism of citizens which was found during the revolution, into a vision for the future which incorporates some of the values of identity that motivated the revolution. For example, Khomeini carefully channeled the Iranian Revolution’s resistance to the rushed “modernization” and Westernization of Iran by the Shah and the Revolution’s euphoria for maintaining a more traditional, Persian lifestyle into an Islamic religious movement in Iran, with the clever move of working to associate Islam with the Persian ideals that Iranian revolutionaries fought to preserve. He also made sure not to reject modernity and the progression of society as a whole, in order to keep Iran relevant as a modern nation while moving forward with his vision of Iran as an Islamic nation.
Thus, although it’s an inevitable consequence of time and culture that nations progress irreversibly, which prompts a loss of identity when a nation places meaning in aspects of its own history, leaders of the aftermaths of revolutions have an opportunity to progress the nation along a new vision, while maintaining some of the energy of the revolution, if they incorporate the euphoria of what was worth fighting for into their new vision for the nation.