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The Suffering of the Immigrant

ABDELMALEK SAYAD

Preface by Pierre Bourdieu

Translated by David Macey

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Acknowledgements

I would like to thank Pierre Bourdieu, without whom this work could not have appeared in its complete form.

For several years, Abdelmalek Sayad had been planning to collect and put into perspective his studies and reflections on the phenomenon of migration and, more specifically, on Algerian immigration in France. Exhaustion and illness did not leave him the time to bring his project to fruition. And yet, on the eve of an operation he was dreading, he handed Pierre Bourdieu a bundle of texts and an outline plan, a sort of ‘table of contents’ of the book he wished to publish.

After the death of my husband, Pierre Bourdieu, reassured by the trust he had always shown in him and by an intellectual closeness that had never been shaken over the years, saw it as his natural duty to construct this book, to make it coherent, to breathe life into it and to give it a title. Given the number of texts involved, this was a weighty undertaking that involved some delicate choices. Undertaking and completing this task required the sort of courage that comes from the heart.

I would like to express my deepest gratitude to Pierre Bourdieu for having brought this book into being.

With great generosity and skill, my husband’s colleagues and friends at the Centre de Sociologie Européenne and in the Collège de France’s Department of Sociology, as well as Monsieur Mohammed Boudoudou of the University of Rabat, also lent their cooperation to this publication; I am thinking in particular of the team made up of Eliane Dupuy, Salah Bouhedja and Patrick Champagne, to whom I owe particular thanks.

I would like to say a big thank you to all of them.

Rebecca Sayad

A Note on Terminology

The commonplace expression ‘l’immigration algérienne’ has two inseparable meanings. It refers, that is, at once to the process of emigration from Algeria and to a population of Algerian immigrants resident in France. The journal Actualités de l’immigration, for instance, is about and addressed to that population. Standard English usage would of course speak of ‘the Algerian community in France’. The term ‘community’ offends, however, the classic French notion of a secular and universalist republic which simply does not recognize the existence of ‘communities’ defined by ethnicity, culture, language or even gender. Although it departs from normal English usage, ‘Algerian immigration’, and sometimes even ‘the Algerian immigration’, has therefore been adopted here to reflect the double meaning of immigration.

David Macey

Preface

It was a long time ago that Abdelmalek Sayad conceived the project of bringing together in a synthetic work all the analyses he had presented, in lectures or scattered articles, of emigration and immigration – two words which, as he never ceased to recall, refer to two sets of things that are completely different but indissociable, and which must at all costs be considered together. He wished me to be associated with his project from the outset. In one of the most difficult moments of his difficult life – we had lost count of the number of days he had spent in hospital and of the operations he had undergone – and on the eve of a very dangerous surgical intervention, he reminded me of this project in a serious tone we rarely used between ourselves. A few months earlier, he had entrusted me with a set of texts, some already published and some unpublished, together with suggestions – a plan, outline questions and notes – so that I could, as I had already done so many times before, read and revise them with a view to publication. I should have set to work at once – and I often regretted that I did not do so when I found myself having to justify, alone, certain difficult choices. But Abdelmalek Sayad had survived so many ordeals in the past that it seemed to us that he would live for ever. I was, however, able to discuss with him certain basic courses of action, and especially the decision to produce a coherent book centred on the essential texts, rather than to publish everything as it stood. In the course of our last meetings (and nothing cheered him up more than our working conversations), I was also able to show him several of the texts I had reworked, and which I had sometimes changed considerably, mainly in order to cut the repetitions involved in bringing them together and integrating them into the logic of the whole, and also to rid them of those stylistic infelicities and complexities which, whilst necessary or tolerable in publications intended for the academic world, were no longer appropriate in a book that had to be made as accessible as possible, especially to those it talked about, for whom it was primarily intended and to whom it was in a sense dedicated.

As I pursued my reading of these texts, some of which I knew well and some of which I was discovering for the first time, I could see the emergence of the exemplary figure of the committed scientist who, although weakened and hindered by illness, could still find the courage and strength needed to meet, to the end and in such a difficult domain, all the demands of the sociologist’s profession. He was able to do so only because of his absolute commitment to his mission (not that he would have liked that big word) to investigate and bear witness. His commitment was based upon his active solidarity with those he was taking as his object. What may have looked like an obsession with work – even during his stays in hospital, he never stopped investigating and writing – was in fact a humble and total commitment to a career in public service, which he saw as a privilege and a duty (so much so that, in putting the final touches to this book, I had the feeling that I was not only fulfilling a duty to a friend but also making a small contribution to a lifetime’s work devoted to the understanding of a tragically difficult and urgent problem).

This commitment, which was much deeper than any profession of political faith, was, I think, rooted in both a personal and an affective involvement in the existence and experience of immigrants. Having himself experienced both emigration and immigration, in which he was still involved thanks to a thousand ties of kinship and friendship, Abdelmalek Sayad was inspired by an impassioned desire to know and to understand. This was no doubt primarily a wish to understand and know himself, to understand where he himself stood, because he was in the impossible position of a foreigner who was both perfectly integrated and often completely inassimilable. As a foreigner, or in other words a member of that privileged category to which real immigrants will never have access and which can, in the best of cases, enjoy all the advantages that come from having two nationalities, two languages, two homelands and two cultures, and being driven by both emotional and intellectual concerns, he constantly sought to draw closer to the true immigrants, and to find, in the explanations that science allowed him to discover, the principle of a solidarity of the heart that became ever more complete as the years went by.

This solidarity with the most disadvantaged, which explains his formidable epistemological lucidity, allowed him to demolish and destroy in passing, and without seeming to touch upon them, many discourses and representations – both commonplace and learned – concerning immigrants. It allowed him to enter fully into the most complex of problems: that of the lies orchestrated by a collective bad faith, or that of the real illnesses of patients who have been cured in the medical sense, in the same way that he could enter a family or house he did not know as though he were a regular and considerate visitor who was immediately loved and respected. It allowed him to find the words, and the right tone, to speak of experiences that are as contradictory as the social conditions that produced them, and to analyse them by mobilizing both the theoretical resources of traditional Kabyle culture, as redefined by ethnological work (thanks to notions such as elghorba, or the opposition between thaymats and thadjjaddith), and the conceptual resources of an integrated research team from which he was able to obtain the most extraordinary findings about the most unexpected objects.

All these virtues, which the textbooks on methodology never discuss, his incomparable theoretical and technical sophistication, and his intimate knowledge of the Berber tradition and language, proved indispensable when it came to dealing with objects which, like the so-called problems of ‘immigration’, cannot be left to the first person who comes along. Epistemological principles and methodological precepts are, in this case, of little help unless they can be based upon more profound discourses that are, to some extent, bound up with both experience and a social trajectory. And it is clear that there were many reasons why Abdelmalek Sayad could see from the outset what had escaped all other observers before him. Because analysts approach ‘immigration’ – the word says it all – from the point of view of the host society, which looks at the ‘immigrant’ problem only insofar as ‘immigrants’ cause it problems, they in effect fail to ask themselves about the diversity of causes and reasons that may have determined the departures and oriented the diversity of the trajectories. As a first step towards breaking with this unconscious ethnocentrism, he restores to ‘immigrants’, who are also ‘emigrants’, their origin and all the particularities that are associated with it. It is those particularities that explain many of the differences that can be seen in their later destinies. In an article published in 1975, in other words long before ‘immigration’ became part of the public debate, he tore apart the veil of illusions that concealed the ‘immigrant’ condition and dispelled the reassuring myth of the imported worker who, once he has accumulated his nest egg, will go back to his own country to make way for another worker. But above all, by looking closely at the tiniest and most intimate details of the condition of ‘immigrants’, by taking us into the heart of the constituent contradictions of an impossible and inevitable life by evoking the innocent lies that help to reproduce illusions about the land of exile, he paints with small touches a striking portrait of these ‘displaced persons’ who have no appropriate place in social space and no set place in social classifications. In the hands of such an analyst, the immigrant functions as an extraordinary tool for analysing the most obscure regions of the unconscious.

Like Socrates as described by Plato, the immigrant is atopos, has no place, and is displaced and unclassifiable. The comparison is not simply intended to ennoble the immigrant by virtue of the reference. Neither citizen nor foreigner, not truly on the side of the Same nor really on the side of the Other, he exists within that ‘bastard’ place, of which Plato also speaks, on the frontier between being and social nonbeing. Displaced, in the sense of being incongruous and inopportune, he is a source of embarrassment. The difficulty we have in thinking about him – even in science, which often reproduces, without realizing it, the presuppositions and omissions of the official vision – simply recreates the embarrassment created by his burdensome nonexistence. Always in the wrong place, and now as out of place in his society of origin as he is in the host society, the immigrant obliges us to rethink completely the question of the legitimate foundations of citizenship and of relations between citizen and state, nation or nationality. Being absent both from his place of origin and his place of arrival, he forces us to rethink not only the instinctive rejection which, because it regards the state as an expression of the nation, justifies itself by claiming to base citizenship on a linguistic and cultural community (if not a racial community), but also the false assimilationist ‘generosity’ which, convinced that the state, armed with education, can produce the nation, may conceal a chauvinism of the universal. The physical and moral sufferings he endures reveal to the attentive observer everything that native insertion into a nation and a state buries in the innermost depths of minds and bodies, in a quasi-natural state, or in other words far beyond the reach of consciousness. Thanks to experiences, which, for those who can observe, describe and decipher them, are like so many experiments, he forces us to discover what Thomas Bernard calls the ‘state-controlled’ thoughts and bodies that a very particular history has bequeathed us and which, despite all the humanist professions of faith, very often continue to prevent us from recognizing and respecting all the forms of the human condition.

Pierre Bourdieu

Salah Bouhedja, Eliane Dupuy and Rebecca Sayad helped to finalize the manuscript, and to compile the bibliography and index of names.

Sources

Unless otherwise stated, all texts are by Abdelmalek Sayad.

INTRODUCTION

Pierre Bourdieu, ‘Célibat et condition paysanne’, Etudes rurales, 5–6, April–September 1962: 32–136.

Homo academicus, Paris: Editions de Minuit, 1984 (English translation by Peter Collier, Homo Academicus, Cambridge: Polity, 1990).

CHAPTER 1

‘El Ghorba: le mécanisme de reproduction de l’émigration’, Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales, 2, March 1975: 50–66.

CHAPTER 2

‘Les “Trois Ages” de l’émigration algérienne en France’, Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales, 15, June 1977: 59–79.

CHAPTER 3

‘L’Immigration algérienne, une immigration exemplaire’, in J. Costa-Lascoux and E. Temime, eds, Les Algériens en France, genèse et devenir d’une migration. Actes du Colloque du GRECO (Grenoble, 26–27 January 1983), Paris: Publisud, 1985, pp. 19–49.

‘Coûts et profits de l’immigration, les présupposés politiques d’un débat économique’, Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales, 61, March 1986: 79–82.

CHAPTER 4

‘Emigration et nationalisme: le cas algérien’, in Genèse de l’Etat moderne en Méditerranée. Approches historiques et anthropologiques des représentations, Rome: Collection de l’Ecole française de Rome, 168, 1993, pp. 407–36.

CHAPTER 5

‘Les Effets culturels de l’émigration, un enjeu de luttes sociales’, Annuaire de l’Afrique du Nord, XXIII, Paris: CNRS, 1984, pp. 383–97.

CHAPTER 6

‘Le Phénomène migratoire, une relation de domination’, Annuaire de l’Afrique du Nord, XX, Paris: CNRS, 1981, pp. 365–406.

CHAPTER 7

‘La “faute” de l’absence ou les effets de l’émigration’, Anthropologica medica (Trieste), July 1988: 50–69.

CHAPTER 8

‘OS et double condition’, in R. Sainsaulieu and A. Zehraoui, eds, Ouvriers spécialisés à Billancourt: les derniers témoins, Paris: L’Harmattan, 1995, pp. 295–330.

CHAPTER 9

‘Santé et équilibre social chez les immigrés’, XXII colloque de la Société de psychologie médicale de langue française: Psychologie médicale et migrants (Marseille, 30–31 May 1980), Psychologie médicale, 13, 11, 1981: 1747–75.

CHAPTER 10

‘Qu’est-ce que l’intégration?’, Pour une éthique de l’intégration, Hommes et migrations, 1182, December 1994: 8–14.

CHAPTER 11

‘Les Immigrés algériens et la nationalité française’, in S. Laacher, ed., Questions de nationalité. Histoire et enjeux d’un code, Paris: L’Harmattan, 1987, pp. 127–97.

CHAPTER 12

‘L’Immigration et la “pensée d’Etat”. Réflexions sur la double peine’, in Délit d’immigration. La Construction sociale de la déviance et de la criminalité parmi les immigrés en Europe, textes réunis par S. Palidda, rapport COST A2, Migrations. Brussels: Communauté européenne, 1996, pp. 11–19.

Introduction

One cannot write on the sociology of immigration without, at the same time and by that very fact, outlining a sociology of emigration. One country’s immigration is another country’s emigration. The two are indissociable aspects of a single reality, and one cannot be explained without reference to the other. The two dimensions of the phenomenon can be separated out and made autonomous only as a result of some arbitrary decision. The caesura is introduced by a division of competences, interests and political stakes between political partners who are situated, with respect to one another, in a fundamentally asymmetrical relationship. On the one hand, we have emigration, just as there are countries, societies and economies of emigration and just as there is, or should be, a (political) power, a state and an emigration policy (on the part of the state), and also – why not? – a science of emigration. On the other, we have immigration, just as there are societies and economies of immigration, very definite immigration policies and, bound up with all that, a science of immigration. As an object that has been divided between political powers rather than disciplines, and between divergent social and political interests on continents that have been separated by a frontier that divides emigration and immigration, the migratory phenomenon cannot be fully understood unless science mends the broken threads and puts together the shattered fragments. This must be done by science and not by politics. Science may even have to resist stubborn political attempts to maintain the division.

In this domain (perhaps more so than in any other) science is objectively subordinated to politics1 because of the imposition of a problematic that belongs to the social order (in all its forms: demographic, economic, social, cultural and, above all, political). As a result we are obliged to investigate the social preconditions for the possibility of a comprehensive science (a science that can borrow from all the disciplines of social science) of the migratory phenomenon by looking at its twin components: emigration and immigration. To be more specific, we are obliged to investigate the social preconditions for the emergence of certain questions that exist as social problems only because they are constituted first as objects of discourse and only then as objects of science. One of the peculiar features of sociological thinking about emigration and immigration is that it must also, and necessarily, be self-reflexive. In no other social context is sociology so closely bound up with its own sociology as it is here. The sociology of emigration and immigration is inseparable from the reflexive attitude that consists in investigating, in connection with every aspect that is being studied, the social conditions that made it possible to study it, or in other words the constitution of the object under consideration as an object of study and the effects this has on the aspect of the study that is being made. The first conclusion to emerge from this reflexive attempt to truly construct the social object known as immigration (and/or emigration) as a true object of science is that any project undertaken on this basis is at once a social history of the double phenomenon of emigration and immigration, and a social history of the discourse on the phenomenon in question – here, as with many social objects, the discourse on the object is itself part of the object and must be integrated into the object of study or must itself become an object of study. The discourse on emigration or immigration can be pronounced in turn from the immigration point of view and in the society of immigration, and from the emigration point of view and in the society of emigration. Any attempt to construct immigration as a true object of science must, finally, be a social history of the reciprocal relations between these societies, of the society of emigration and the society of immigration, of relations between emigrants and immigrants, and of relations between each of those two societies.

Without going into details about the conditions that now make it possible to ask a number of new questions about, and to arrive at a new understanding of – which remains to be communicated – the migratory phenomenon, one can only note the emergence of previously repressed questions about emigration and immigration. The many new themes, discourses and studies include, for example, the problematic that goes by the name of the ‘cost-benefit theory of immigration’. This is the product of the extension to ‘cultural’ matters of a problematic that was originally constructed just for the study of the economic aspects of immigration (and, to a lesser degree, emigration). It may have the beneficial effect of contributing to the elaboration of a ‘total economics’ of the migratory phenomenon which would also include the economics of the non-economic and particularly those aspects that are conventionally described as ‘cultural’.

Because in many ways it is so reassuring, one has to be deliberately myopic to accept and reproduce the reductive definition of the migratory phenomenon that implicitly describes it as being nothing more than the mere displacement of a labour force. It is as though we had, on the one hand, a (relatively) surplus labour force – with no questions asked as to the reasons for that surplus, or about the genesis of the process that made this surplus available (for emigration) – and, on the other hand, jobs that are available – with no questions asked about the mechanisms that make these jobs available to immigrants. No doubt we will have to wait for the removal of the determinations which, in practice, mean that all we can see of such a vast object is its immediate or phenomenal function, which is also an instrumental function, in order to bring out the many other functions and qualities the ‘instrumentalist’ vision helps to mask. This operation of dissimulation is the very precondition for the constitution and perpetuation of the phenomenon.

But once they outlive certain social conditions, emigration and immigration eventually betray their other dimensions, and especially their political and cultural dimensions, which were initially concealed. No doubt the initial function of immigration has to become blurred, or to cease to appear to be the only function that, in both practice and theory, devolves upon immigration, before its other implications – and there are all kinds of them – can be revealed. This appears to occur when immigration ceases to be exclusively about labour, or in other words something that affects workers alone – assuming that there can be such a thing as the exclusive immigration of labour – and is transformed into immigration of families (or of settlers). We thus establish an artificial divorce between, on the one hand, the immigration of labour, which appears to concern only workers (who represent no more than an input of labour power) and which poses only labour problems, and, on the other, an immigration of settlers, whose meaning and effects are of a different order, whose implications are much more far-reaching, and which creates multiple problems on such a scale as to affect all spheres of society, and especially what we might call the cultural and political spheres.

To that extent, to immigrate means to immigrate together with one’s history (immigration itself being an integral part of that history), with one’s traditions, ways of living, feeling, acting and thinking, with one’s language, one’s religion and all the other social, political and mental structures of one’s society – structures characteristic of the individual and also of society, since the former is no more than the embodiment of the latter – or, in a word, with one’s culture. This is what we are discovering today, and we are surprised (not to say scandalized) by it, even though it was predictable as soon as the first act of immigration took place – in other words as soon as the first immigrant arrived. But although we might in theory have predicted it, we refused to do so because, if we had, immigration would not have come into being and gone on existing in the form that we know it. This is, in part, the meaning of the contemporary discourse on the cultural contribution or cultural effects of immigration, whether or not we delight in them or deplore them, praise them or denounce them – which is another way of recognizing them, a form of admission as well as a way of including these contributions, sometimes as ‘costs’ and sometimes as ‘benefits’, in the great bookkeeping exercise inspired by the presence of immigrants, which now includes things that do not come within the remit of accountancy itself (i.e. of the economy in the strict sense).

Reaching this point requires, however, more than changes within the phenomenon of immigration, within the immigrant population, and the correlative transformations that have occurred in connection to immigration. There must also be a sort of general cultural disposition (in other words, a disposition that can be transposed by the individuals or groups of individuals who possess it, to all spheres of existence) that is broadly shared, at least as an assertion of principle from which there is no reason to draw any practical implications. This disposition goes by the name of cultural relativism. It is a cultivated attitude – on the part of people with a cultivated relationship with their own culture – towards the culture of the others whom they thus constitute as an object of culture which they can then appropriate and which can enrich their own culture. The relativist profession of faith states that ‘one culture is as good as another’, just as one language is as good as another or even just as one religion is as good as another (but with more reservations, except on the part of the odd sceptic or agnostic, who tends to view them all with the same indifference or to subject them to the same negation). It applies, however, only to some pure and ethereal realm of cultures (or languages or religions). Now that relativism has been generalized and vulgarized or, to a certain extent, secularized (or in other words now that it has left its own territory or the territory for which it was designed, namely the epistemological sphere), it has, sociological realism notwithstanding, been turned into a sort of absolute (or dogma) that tolerates no relativization.

One could write a whole social history of cultural relativism. One could write a history of the social conditions of its invention, its diffusion and the effects it produces, or in other words a history of stakes and struggles that were and are struggles over the legitimate definition of the notion of culture. Every social class that is also a cultural class claims to define culture by appeal to its own standard or to contest, at least in the case of culturally dominant classes, the definition that the hegemonic culture (i.e. those who are culturally dominant) imposes. But in this struggle between unequal cultural partners, is not the insistence with which a culture that claims to be ‘popular’ tries to negotiate on equal terms with the culture it objectively recognizes as the culture of reference a way of paying homage to that culture? That is the whole meaning of the quarrel, which is never entirely lost, between ‘popular culture’ and ‘cultured culture’ (i.e. academic, dominant culture), which is ‘culture’ tout court, without any further qualification. The implicit confrontation between endogenous ‘French’ culture and ‘immigrant’ culture – the ‘cultures of origin’ which are complacently redefined as ‘cultural contributions’, (Berque 1985) or the ‘culture in creation’, which grafts onto the imported substratum borrowings imposed by the context of immigration and already in part adopted prior to immigration – is turned into an issue not so much by the immigrants themselves as by the society of immigration as it asks itself about its own cultural components. The confrontation is, it would appear and subject to all the distinctions that characterize the sui generis situation that immigration creates in this respect, no more than a paradigmatic variant on the old and still ongoing conflict between competing cultures.

Nor is emigration what we want it to be, or what we believe or pretend it to be so that it can occur and continue in such a way that we can accept it without a bad conscience and, ultimately, in the mode of the obvious. Emigration is not simply the export of labour power. It is not the export of a sort of labour force that is available for use, and that is available for use because it is not being used at home. Yet that is how emigrants are defined, first as unemployed men, and then as unemployed men who emigrate so as to cease being unemployed: nothing more and nothing else. Emigration and immigration are social mechanisms that must fail to recognize themselves for what they are in order to become what they must be. But, with the passage of time, immigration finally admits, and admits to itself, what it really is, namely something more than and different from the mere emigration (or defection) of a certain quantity of labour power; it eventually reveals all its other dimensions, all the other aspects it had to conceal in order to perpetuate itself. Even though, mutatis mutandis, the same causes always produce the same effects, the unmasking that occurs with respect to immigration in the society of immigration helps to provoke or accelerate the correlative unmasking of emigration within the society of emigration. A copy of a discourse about the object and theme of immigration is thus gradually installed in all spheres of society and even in scientific discourse about the phenomenon of emigration.2 The two discourses, which echo one another, are homologous because, ultimately, they are both products of the same schemata of thought and the same categories (applied to symmetrical objects) of perception, appreciation and evaluation of the social world and in this case, to be more specific, the respective worlds of emigration and immigration.