Suchergebnisse

Frontmatter -- Contents -- Acknowledgements -- 1 Politics and the Spatial Imagination -- 2 Politics of Aesthetics -- 3 Politics for Beginners -- 4 Politics in-Common -- 5 Politics for Equals -- 6 The Sublime Element in Politics -- Notes -- Bibliography -- Index

Badlands -- Introduction : the fear of 'the banlieue' -- State's statements : urban policy as place-making -- The police -- The right to the city? : revolts and the initiation of urban policy -- Justice, police, statistics : surveillance of spaces of intervention -- From 'neighbourhoods in danger' to 'dangerous neighbourhoods' : the repressive turn in urban policy -- Justice in banlieues -- A 'thirst for citizenship' : voices from a banlieue -- Voices into noises : revolts as unarticulated justice movements -- Conclusion : space, politics and urban policy.

International audience ; This paper engages with the notion of ideology, bringing together Laclau's theorisation of the specificity of the ideological, andRancì ere's notion of aesthetic regimes. Ideology, I argue, works through what it makes available to the senses and what it makes to make sense. It is in this sense that it is an aesthetic affair. This argument is illustrated with an account of the so-called " securitarian ideology " in France that characterises the repressive policies of the recent governments. The One and the Many One is alright. It is when there are many of them that there are problems (Brice Hortefeux, Former French Minister of the Interior, 6 September 2009). In a rather tragic scene, a party member introduces Hortefeux to a young militant of Arab origin, explaining that he is " like them " : he " eats pork and drinks alcohol ". The minister is surprised: " Ah! That's not it at all, he doesn't fit the prototype at all! " Then he adds: " There always has to be one. One is alright. It is when there are many of them that there are problems. " 1 But should we be surprised? Various government members over the past years, including Presidents of the Republic, have publicly made similar statements. Even so, it was a milestone for a minister condemned for a racial insult to continue to remain in office. Arguably such statements have been influential in the consolidation of the " prototypes " Hortefeux was referring to. My title is inspired by George Lakoff's 1987 book, Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things. Lakoff chose this intriguing title to expose the workings of the standard chain of inference: from conjunction to categorisation to commonality. His title, in turn, was inspired by Dyirbal, an Australian aboriginal language, which includes women, fire, and dangerous things in the same category—but not because, as the usual view of categorisation suggests, they have common properties. Women and fire are in this same category not because they are both considered dangerous things, but because they fall into one of the four categories that are used to classify the objects of the Dyirbal universe. This category, balan, also includes some fishes, most birds, scorpions and crickets, things connected with water or fire, sun, stars, shields, some spears and some trees—a categorisation as seemingly surreal to the Western

International audience ; This article explores the idea of political subjectivity in Hannah Arendt and Jacques Rancière, both of whom I see as thinkers of ruptural and inaugurative politics with a particularly spatial conceptualisation of politics. I start by distinguishing between three strands of thinking about the nature of political subjectification, and I situate Arendt and Rancière's conceptualisations in relation to these. After an examination of their idea of political subjectivity, I offer an interpretation of the movement of sans papiers as it relates to political subjectification. This interpretation also brings out the similarities and differences between Arendt's and Rancière's understanding of politics.

International audience ; This paper engages with the notion of ideology, bringing together Laclau's theorisation of the specificity of the ideological, andRancì ere's notion of aesthetic regimes. Ideology, I argue, works through what it makes available to the senses and what it makes to make sense. It is in this sense that it is an aesthetic affair. This argument is illustrated with an account of the so-called " securitarian ideology " in France that characterises the repressive policies of the recent governments. The One and the Many One is alright. It is when there are many of them that there are problems (Brice Hortefeux, Former French Minister of the Interior, 6 September 2009). In a rather tragic scene, a party member introduces Hortefeux to a young militant of Arab origin, explaining that he is " like them " : he " eats pork and drinks alcohol ". The minister is surprised: " Ah! That's not it at all, he doesn't fit the prototype at all! " Then he adds: " There always has to be one. One is alright. It is when there are many of them that there are problems. " 1 But should we be surprised? Various government members over the past years, including Presidents of the Republic, have publicly made similar statements. Even so, it was a milestone for a minister condemned for a racial insult to continue to remain in office. Arguably such statements have been influential in the consolidation of the " prototypes " Hortefeux was referring to. My title is inspired by George Lakoff's 1987 book, Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things. Lakoff chose this intriguing title to expose the workings of the standard chain of inference: from conjunction to categorisation to commonality. His title, in turn, was inspired by Dyirbal, an Australian aboriginal language, which includes women, fire, and dangerous things in the same category—but not because, as the usual view of categorisation suggests, they have common properties. Women and fire are in this same category not because they are both considered dangerous things, but because they ...

International audience ; This article explores the idea of political subjectivity in Hannah Arendt and Jacques Rancière, both of whom I see as thinkers of ruptural and inaugurative politics with a particularly spatial conceptualisation of politics. I start by distinguishing between three strands of thinking about the nature of political subjectification, and I situate Arendt and Rancière's conceptualisations in relation to these. After an examination of their idea of political subjectivity, I offer an interpretation of the movement of sans papiers as it relates to political subjectification. This interpretation also brings out the similarities and differences between Arendt's and Rancière's understanding of politics.

International audience ; This paper engages with the notion of ideology, bringing together Laclau's theorisation of the specificity of the ideological, andRancì ere's notion of aesthetic regimes. Ideology, I argue, works through what it makes available to the senses and what it makes to make sense. It is in this sense that it is an aesthetic affair. This argument is illustrated with an account of the so-called " securitarian ideology " in France that characterises the repressive policies of the recent governments. The One and the Many One is alright. It is when there are many of them that there are problems (Brice Hortefeux, Former French Minister of the Interior, 6 September 2009). In a rather tragic scene, a party member introduces Hortefeux to a young militant of Arab origin, explaining that he is " like them " : he " eats pork and drinks alcohol ". The minister is surprised: " Ah! That's not it at all, he doesn't fit the prototype at all! " Then he adds: " There always has to be one. One is alright. It is when there are many of them that there are problems. " 1 But should we be surprised? Various government members over the past years, including Presidents of the Republic, have publicly made similar statements. Even so, it was a milestone for a minister condemned for a racial insult to continue to remain in office. Arguably such statements have been influential in the consolidation of the " prototypes " Hortefeux was referring to. My title is inspired by George Lakoff's 1987 book, Women, Fire, and Dangerous Things. Lakoff chose this intriguing title to expose the workings of the standard chain of inference: from conjunction to categorisation to commonality. His title, in turn, was inspired by Dyirbal, an Australian aboriginal language, which includes women, fire, and dangerous things in the same category—but not because, as the usual view of categorisation suggests, they have common properties. Women and fire are in this same category not because they are both considered dangerous things, but because they fall into one of the four categories that are used to classify the objects of the Dyirbal universe. This category, balan, also includes some fishes, most birds, scorpions and crickets, things connected with water or fire, sun, stars, shields, some spears and some trees—a categorisation as seemingly surreal to the Western

International audience ; This article explores the idea of political subjectivity in Hannah Arendt and Jacques Rancière, both of whom I see as thinkers of ruptural and inaugurative politics with a particularly spatial conceptualisation of politics. I start by distinguishing between three strands of thinking about the nature of political subjectification, and I situate Arendt and Rancière's conceptualisations in relation to these. After an examination of their idea of political subjectivity, I offer an interpretation of the movement of sans papiers as it relates to political subjectification. This interpretation also brings out the similarities and differences between Arendt's and Rancière's understanding of politics.

International audience ; This article appeared in a journal published by Elsevier. The attached copy is furnished to the author for internal non-commercial research and education use, including for instruction at the authors institution and sharing with colleagues. Other uses, including reproduction and distribution, or selling or licensing copies, or posting to personal, institutional or third party websites are prohibited. In most cases authors are permitted to post their version of the article (e.g. in Word or Tex form) to their personal website or institutional repository. Authors requiring further information regarding Elsevier's archiving and manuscript policies are encouraged to visit: http://www.elsevier.com/copyright a b s t r a c t This article examines the relationship between space and politics though an exploration of the political theories of Arendt, Laclau, Mouffe and Rancière. It starts with an engagement with ideas about spatial metaphors and space, and argues that space may be considered as a mode of political thinking. It then provides an examination of the theories of these thinkers, paying close attention to the role space and spatiality plays in their conceptualisations of politics and the political. The article concludes with some observations on the relationship between space and politics.

International audience ; This article appeared in a journal published by Elsevier. The attached copy is furnished to the author for internal non-commercial research and education use, including for instruction at the authors institution and sharing with colleagues. Other uses, including reproduction and distribution, or selling or licensing copies, or posting to personal, institutional or third party websites are prohibited. In most cases authors are permitted to post their version of the article (e.g. in Word or Tex form) to their personal website or institutional repository. Authors requiring further information regarding Elsevier's archiving and manuscript policies are encouraged to visit: http://www.elsevier.com/copyright a b s t r a c t This article examines the relationship between space and politics though an exploration of the political theories of Arendt, Laclau, Mouffe and Rancière. It starts with an engagement with ideas about spatial metaphors and space, and argues that space may be considered as a mode of political thinking. It then provides an examination of the theories of these thinkers, paying close attention to the role space and spatiality plays in their conceptualisations of politics and the political. The article concludes with some observations on the relationship between space and politics.

International audience ; This article appeared in a journal published by Elsevier. The attached copy is furnished to the author for internal non-commercial research and education use, including for instruction at the authors institution and sharing with colleagues. Other uses, including reproduction and distribution, or selling or licensing copies, or posting to personal, institutional or third party websites are prohibited. In most cases authors are permitted to post their version of the article (e.g. in Word or Tex form) to their personal website or institutional repository. Authors requiring further information regarding Elsevier's archiving and manuscript policies are encouraged to visit: http://www.elsevier.com/copyright a b s t r a c t This article examines the relationship between space and politics though an exploration of the political theories of Arendt, Laclau, Mouffe and Rancière. It starts with an engagement with ideas about spatial metaphors and space, and argues that space may be considered as a mode of political thinking. It then provides an examination of the theories of these thinkers, paying close attention to the role space and spatiality plays in their conceptualisations of politics and the political. The article concludes with some observations on the relationship between space and politics.

International audience ; I have felt moved to write this piece for two reasons. First, the episode I will recount below resonates strongly with my experience and that of other non-European colleagues (those I have been discussing with, at least) regarding the politics of academic knowledge production in Western academic contexts. Second, it exemplifies what in my view is a rather problematic understanding of " Eurocentrism " and " theory " , reducing the former to an unproductive polemical register, and confusing the latter with a user's manual. The episode consists of me being called " Eurocentric " in an academic workshop, although this piece is in no way intended as a response to my accusers. Rather, it is written in the spirit of addressing the issues identified above, which I take to be of political, theoretical and pedagogic significance. What, then, was my sin to deserve this academic and political kiss of death? I was surprised—stunned even—especially because I had taken good care to start with a disclaimer that my paper was informed by the French context and inspired by a particular French thinker. Since the previous day of the workshop had seen numerous remarks of the type " Yes, but this doesn't work in Sri Lanka! " (there was a contingent of anthropologists and development geographers with ongoing research projects there), I was careful, running the risk of sounding defensive, to also emphasize that my paper offered one among many possible ways of thinking about the relationship between space and politics, one of the workshop themes. Alas, it didn't work in Sri Lanka! Although I tried to explain that my paper was neither inspired by nor responding to the situation in Sri Lanka, I, the only non-European present, ended up being the only Eurocentric of the whole workshop. The problem, according to my interlocutors, was that my alleged " model " (a term I had deliberately avoided) either " did not work in " or " did not apply to " Sri Lanka (Pakistan, if I remember correctly, was also mentioned). It is this kind of use of the term that I find unproductive and problematic. Based on a strictly geographical or even cartographical

International audience ; I have felt moved to write this piece for two reasons. First, the episode I will recount below resonates strongly with my experience and that of other non-European colleagues (those I have been discussing with, at least) regarding the politics of academic knowledge production in Western academic contexts. Second, it exemplifies what in my view is a rather problematic understanding of " Eurocentrism " and " theory " , reducing the former to an unproductive polemical register, and confusing the latter with a user's manual. The episode consists of me being called " Eurocentric " in an academic workshop, although this piece is in no way intended as a response to my accusers. Rather, it is written in the spirit of addressing the issues identified above, which I take to be of political, theoretical and pedagogic significance. What, then, was my sin to deserve this academic and political kiss of death? I was surprised—stunned even—especially because I had taken good care to start with a disclaimer that my paper was informed by the French context and inspired by a particular French thinker. Since the previous day of the workshop had seen numerous remarks of the type " Yes, but this doesn't work in Sri Lanka! " (there was a contingent of anthropologists and development geographers with ongoing research projects there), I was careful, running the risk of sounding defensive, to also emphasize that my paper offered one among many possible ways of thinking about the relationship between space and politics, one of the workshop themes. Alas, it didn't work in Sri Lanka! Although I tried to explain that my paper was neither inspired by nor responding to the situation in Sri Lanka, I, the only non-European present, ended up being the only Eurocentric of the whole workshop. The problem, according to my interlocutors, was that my alleged " model " (a term I had deliberately avoided) either " did not work in " or " did not apply to " Sri Lanka (Pakistan, if I remember correctly, was also mentioned). It is ...

International audience ; I have felt moved to write this piece for two reasons. First, the episode I will recount below resonates strongly with my experience and that of other non-European colleagues (those I have been discussing with, at least) regarding the politics of academic knowledge production in Western academic contexts. Second, it exemplifies what in my view is a rather problematic understanding of " Eurocentrism " and " theory " , reducing the former to an unproductive polemical register, and confusing the latter with a user's manual. The episode consists of me being called " Eurocentric " in an academic workshop, although this piece is in no way intended as a response to my accusers. Rather, it is written in the spirit of addressing the issues identified above, which I take to be of political, theoretical and pedagogic significance. What, then, was my sin to deserve this academic and political kiss of death? I was surprised—stunned even—especially because I had taken good care to start with a disclaimer that my paper was informed by the French context and inspired by a particular French thinker. Since the previous day of the workshop had seen numerous remarks of the type " Yes, but this doesn't work in Sri Lanka! " (there was a contingent of anthropologists and development geographers with ongoing research projects there), I was careful, running the risk of sounding defensive, to also emphasize that my paper offered one among many possible ways of thinking about the relationship between space and politics, one of the workshop themes. Alas, it didn't work in Sri Lanka! Although I tried to explain that my paper was neither inspired by nor responding to the situation in Sri Lanka, I, the only non-European present, ended up being the only Eurocentric of the whole workshop. The problem, according to my interlocutors, was that my alleged " model " (a term I had deliberately avoided) either " did not work in " or " did not apply to " Sri Lanka (Pakistan, if I remember correctly, was also mentioned). It is this kind of use of the term that I find unproductive and problematic. Based on a strictly geographical or even cartographical