Review: Gloria Wekker, The Politics of Passion

Gloria Wekker, The Politics of Passion: Women’s Sexual Culture in the
Afro-Surinamese Diaspora . New York: Columbia University Press, 2006. 313 pp. (incl.index). ISBN 0–231–13162–3, $69.50 (cloth); ISBN 0–231–13163–1, $27.50 (pbk)
Within the rising field of sexuality studies, including black sexuality studies,it is rare to find an academic text that prioritizes the erotic subjectivities of working class black women. Gloria Wekker’sThe Politics of Passion: Women’s Sexual Culture in the Afro-Surinamese Diaspora
is a groundbreaking book that situates black women’s same-sex loving sexuality, known as ‘the mati work’, as central to our understanding of the self-making of sexual identities and practices as they travel the networks and spaces of the African Diaspora. Wekker’s work provides crucial interventions in the fields of sexuality studies, queertheory, and black cultural studies of the African Diaspora as it makes visible Afro-Surinamese Creole women’s same-gender relationships. Not only does Wekker challenge the historical invisibility of black women’s sexuality within Euro-American discourse, but her deeply researched and immensely engaging ethnography shows us a roadmap for the future of sexuality studies.
As one of the few full length historical or sociological studies on the sexual lives of Afro-diasporic women, The Politics of Passion takes on a complicated set of debates, including how to write about black women’s sexuality in ways that account for difference without re-pathologizing an already stigmatized and marginalized population. Wekker’s project is invested in attending to the myriad negations of black women’s sexualities from scholarship; following Hortense Spillers, Wekker posits: ‘the social scientific study of black women’s sexuality remains a gaping wound’ (p.76). Furthermore, Wekker is critical of the ways in which most scholarship on black women’s sexual lives has focused on the devastating history of systemic and epistemic violence, whilst the ‘inner sexual lives of black women, how they think about themselves sexually, remain a mystery’ (p.76). Wekker utilizes Surinamese Creole working-class women’s own linguistic and spiritual language to unveil the mystery and illuminate a deep structure of love, kinship, labour, and survival that forces us to rethink
the study of black women’s sexuality. Wekker’s work takes on the problem of how to write about same-gender sexualities of women who do not identify with Western conceptual frameworks of lesbianism, and how such a problem intersects with categories of race, ethnicity, class, and nation. She successfully deploys Afro-Surinamese women’s own concept of ‘mati work’ or ‘matism’ as a way to articulate a complex, flexible gender and sexual system that defines sexuality in terms of women’s agency and behaviour rather than as essentialized identity. With this move, Wekker critiques ‘GLBTQ studies’ for its participation in privileging the hegemonic Western ‘static nature of sexual identity’, by positing that mati work is ‘seen by its practitioners as varying, versatile sexual behavior: no real, authentic, fixed self is claimed’ (p.173). Wekker’s original research on the mati work provides an exciting paradigm shift for scholars wanting to investigate how minoritarian subjects articulate their sexual agency. Wekker conducted an extensive ethnographic study over the period of a decade where she travelled from the Netherlands to Suriname. Of the many relationships she cultivated with research informants, Wekker’s relationship with Misi Juliette Cummings proves most central to this project. The author formed a deep, loving intimacy with the octogenarian Creole Book reviews working-class Paramaribo native, and her fascinating oral history of Misi Juliette’s life reveals the profound complexities of the mati work and Wekker’s personal relationship to it. Misi Juliette’s narrative makes legible the ‘politics of passion’ of Creole working-class women in the mati work – that is, we learn the intricate contours of accepted sexual behaviour and values that inform the everyday lives of mati. Afro-Surinamese working-class women’s same-sex relationships are based on labour – the labour of caring for women emotionally, physically, financially, and psychically. Indeed, the mati work is as much an intricate system of kinship and care among women as it is about sexual desire and pleasure. Misi Juliette’s life story illuminates how mati negotiate both same-gender and cross-gender loving relationships inside and outside of institutions like marriage, and how matism is a lifelong labour of love and survival rooted in a West African ‘cultural archive of sexual subjectivity’ (p.2). Matism must be understood in terms of social labour, mutual obligation, and sexual pleasure in the context of the feminization of poverty in the globalizing Dutch Caribbean. The final chapter examines Afro-Creole women and the politics of sexual globalization. Wekker shows that these women’s sexuality is constructed not just through local dynamics of gendered political inequality and uneven economic development, but also by global contexts of imperialism and sexual discourse. Focusing on Suriname and the Netherlands as postcolonial spaces, Wekker compares lesbianism and the mati work and asks ‘what happens to the mati work when it moves into former metropolitan space’, and how is mati work in Suriname then ‘influenced by the traveling discourses [of] mati who are on the move transatlantically’ (p.225)? Considering how globalization affects the sexual subjectivities, relationships, and discourses of black women in the African Diaspora, Wekker’s work is defining a new and important field of study. Hopefully, other scholars will follow her lead.
MIREILLE MILLER-YOUNG
University of California at Santa Barbara

Silvia Federici, On capitalism, colonialism, women and food politics

From edition 2009 Issue 2

Published: November 3, 2009
An interview with Silvia Federici
Interviewed by Max Haiven
Silvia Federici is a researcher, activist and educator. She was born and raised in Italy but came to the US in 1967 on a scholarship to study Philosophy at the University of Buffalo. Since then, she has taught at several universities in the US and also at the University of Port Harcourt in Nigeria. She is now Emerita Professor at Hofstra University (Long Island, NY) and lives in Brooklyn.
A veteran feminist activist, Federici’s work is informed by and in dialogue with the many struggles which have animated her career. Since the early 1970s Federici was, along with theorists such as Mariarosa Dalla Costa and Selma James, a founder of the International Feminist Collective and an organizer with the famous Wages for Housework campaign. This movement brought together a global alliance of feminist groups to make a revolutionary challenge at the very hinge of capitalist and patriarchal power by demanding economic sovereignty for women engaged in the elemental labour of social reproduction.
Federici has also been a central part of the Midnight Notes Collective and a co-founder of the Committee for Academic Freedom in Africa (CAFA), a support organization for the struggles of students and teachers in Africa against structural adjustment. Between 1991 and 2003 she was a co-editor of the CAFA Bulletin. In 1995, she co-founded the Radical Philosophy Association (RPA) anti-death penalty project.
Her ground-breaking 2004 book Caliban and the Witch: Women, The Body and Primitive Accumulation (Brooklyn: Autonomedia), received critical laudations and was much talked of in both academic and activist circles, supplying as it did a capacious, lucid and historically rigorous picture of the intersections of patriarchy, capitalism, colonialism and violence from the 15th to the 18th century. The book served as a crucial corrective to both Marxist analyses of the period of primitive accumulation which write gender out as well as to the fashionable academic discourse of biopolitics. The latter, Federici argues, has tended, in the work of both Foucault and his followers, to forget the witch trials of the 16th and 17th century. These were part and parcel of the systematic destruction of women’s power over biological and social reproduction and social creativity, a process essential to the enclosure and colonial movements and the scene of the nascence of both capitalism proper and the modern state.
In other work, Federici has addressed themes of enclosure, colonialism, labour, patriarchy and racism in areas as diverse as the advance of capitalist accumulation, international development policy, the labour of “immaterial workers,” the analysis of social movement strategy and anti-colonial struggle.
In this interview Federici shares her thoughts on the relationship between food, agricultural production, women’s work, global capitalist accumulation and struggle around the world.
Max Haiven (MH) for Politics and Culture: Your historical work has focused on the way the process of what Marx called “primitive accumulation”—the way capitalism is created out of the destruction of other ways of life—has relied upon the systematic destruction of women’s power and the “accumulation of divisions” amongst the working class. Can you speak to how this relates to the history of food politics?
Silvia Federici (SF): There is a direct relation between the destruction of the social and economic power of women in the “transition to capitalism” and the politics of food in capitalist society.
In every part of the world, before the advent of capitalism, women played a major role in agricultural production. They had access to land, the use of its resources and control over the crops they cultivated, all of which guaranteed their autonomy and economic independence from men. In Africa, they had their farming and cropping systems, which were the source of a specific female culture, and they were in charge of the selection of seeds, an operation that was crucial to the prosperity of the community and whose knowledge was transmitted through the generations. The same was true of women’s role in Asia and the Americas. In Europe as well, until the late medieval period, women had land-use rights and the use of the “commons”—woods, ponds, grazing grounds—that were an important source of sustenance. In addition to farming with men, they had their gardens where they cultivated vegetables as well as medicinal herbs and plants.
Both in Europe and the regions the Europeans colonized, primitive accumulation and capitalist development changed this situation. With land privatization and the expansion of monetary relations, a deeper division of labor developed in agriculture that separated food production for profit from food production for direct consumption, devalued reproductive work, starting from subsistence farming, and appointed men as the chief agricultural producers, whereas women were relegated to the rank of “helpers,” field hands, or domestic workers.
In colonial Africa, for example, British and French officers systematically favored men with regard to allocations of land, equipment, and training, the mechanization of agriculture being the occasion for a further marginalization of women’s agricultural activities. They also disrupted female farming by forcing women to assist their husband in the cultivation of cash crops, thus altering the power relations between women and men and instigating new conflicts between them. To this day, the colonial system, whereby land titles are given only to men, continues to be the rule for “development agencies” and not in Africa alone.
It must be said that men have been accomplices in this process, not only claiming control over women’s labor, but, in the face of growing land scarcity, conspiring to curtail women’ communal land-use rights (wherever these survived) by rewriting the rules and conditions of belonging to the community.
Despite women’s resistance to their marginalization, and their continuous engagement in subsistence farming and land reclamation struggles, these developments have had a profound effect on food production. As Vandana Shiva so powerfully described in her book Staying Alive [1], with the exclusion of women from access to land and the destruction of their control over food production, a large body of knowledge, practices, techniques that for centuries safeguarded the integrity of the land and the soil and the nutritional value of food has been lost.