Geoffrey Mead

The Case of Kabylia: Explaining Elective Affinities in Bourdieu's Mediterranean

A recurrent paradox accompanies Pierre Bourdieu's description of his relation to his earliest field site: the people of Kabylia are frequently evoked as 'at once exotic and familiar'. In the present article I ask what conditions must prevail for such a depiction to be possible. Taking up work conducted in recent years concerning the details of Bourdieu's fieldwork, its theoretical presuppositions, and its place within the declining French empire, I propose that Bourdieu's depiction is predicated on what Herzfeld calls 'practical Mediterraneanism': an ideology of the Mediterranean as a cultural region that permits Bourdieu to negotiate his colonial position, by transmuting a power relation into a relation of cultural similarity. Yet I aim to avoid imputing to Bourdieu a subjective failing in this regard, whether through cynical manipulation or simple error. Instead, pausing on the performative dimension of Bourdieu's texts, I examine what his representations of the Kabyle do throughout his oeuvre and how these are bound by particular intellectual, existential, and political problems that arise at different times.

A recurrent paradox accompanies Pierre Bourdieu's description of his relation to his earliest field site: the people of Kabylia are frequently evoked as 'at once exotic and familiar'. This peculiar coincidence of opposites is often explained by recourse to Bourdieu's own biography, with the explicit suggestion that it was his personal identification with the Kabyles, rooted in a rural temperament, that enabled this intellectual claim. This is best captured in a memory that Yacine relates: the culture of the colonised exercised on him the effect of a magnifying mirror, to the point that he came to define himself as Kabylo-Béarnais: "Like you, the culture of the other (Kabyle culture), transformed me and allowed me to see myself otherwise". 1 Albera appropriates Yacine's mirror metaphor and asserts that, in Bourdieu's work, the Mediterranean Sea 'above all remains the space for a mirror game between familiarity and alterity'. It follows from this that '[t]he other is no longer the bearer of this radical alterity, by which one distances oneself from him to better reify him'. As Bensa proposes, the Kabyle is Bourdieu's 'alter ego'. Thus, ethnographic work 'on the other becomes, inseparably, work on the self'. 2 To reify this specular metaphor, it amounts to recognising oneself in the reflection thrown back by another. In Bourdieu's terminology, we can register this as allodoxia: a 'false recognition founded on the misrecognised relation between two histories that brings one to recognise oneself in another history, that of another nation or another class'. 3 This definition, however, for now serves only to defer an answer by begging the question of what characterises an 'other' history.

While questions pertaining to 'our' identity in relation to 'others' are so frequent as to be ritualistic incantations, the prospect of untangling their terms in Bourdieu's work offers specially important rewards, given several interlinked peculiarities that characterise it. The first peculiarity concerns Bourdieu's own biographical circumstances, in particular his peripheral, rural upbringing. Given that Bourdieu's second field site, in which he conducted research almost contemporaneous with his Algerian work, was his native town, his biography becomes immediately implicated. But does this mean that we can, as Bourdieu does as much as his commentators, explain his attitude to the other on the basis of a shared rural cultural background? A second peculiarity concerns Bourdieu's implication in studies of 'Mediterranean' cultures and his casting of the Kabyle culture-along with his own Béarnais culture-as one of several such groups belonging to this region. This is a region whose existence has been mired in scholarly controversy, given certain accusations made of it, namely, that it assumes and redoubles local stereotypes. Negating and inverting Bourdieu's expansive description of the Kabyle, as both exotic and familiar, Herzfeld asserts that the cultures that populate the region are 'neither exotic nor wholly familiar'. Like 'matter out of place', they refuse to be assimilated into conventional categories. The Mediterranean region as a whole, then, 'is "not us", even though we claim it as "our own"'. [START_REF] Herzfeld | Anthropology through the looking-glass: critical ethnography in the margins of Europe[END_REF] Compounding this unhomely character of the Mediterranean is the final peculiarity, namely, the fact of Bourdieu's ambivalent position within the fading French colonial project in Algeria. At once a member of the military and an opponent of Algérie française, dependent on the works of orientalists but critical of their positions, Bourdieu is characteristically idiosyncratic. Not merely does the Mediterranean region ostensibly contain shared cultures, then, but those belonging to these cultures maintain antagonistic relations, no more intense than at the time that Bourdieu was undertaking his fieldwork. To see oneself in the other acquires particular intensity here. So, it is not possible to treat Bourdieu's depiction of the Kabyle outside of his biographical circumstances. Furthermore, given Bourdieu's recourse to the Mediterranean region as a way of justifying the parallels between Kabylia and his own Béarn village, it is useful to consider the impact of this region on his depiction. Finally, the French-Algerian colonial relation compels us to treat the issue of power relations between French groups like the Béarnais and colonised Algerian groups like the Kabyle. A number of authors have explored the parallel between the two in Bourdieu's work generally, and have mostly noted the surprising absence of a systematic exploration of it by Bourdieu himself. Most explicitly, Reed-Danahay writes that, '[i]n reading these two almost identical descriptions of village peasant life, I cannot help but wonder why Bourdieu did not make these resemblances between the two locations more a part of his theoretical analysis'. She adds that those comparisons that he 'did make were in the form of footnotes, or asides'. [START_REF] Reed-Danahay | Tristes Paysans": Bourdieu's early ethnography in Béarn and Kabylia[END_REF] The task I set myself here begins with making sense of what Bourdieu is doing in these footnotes or asides when he makes reference to the cultural resemblances. Then we can better understand how Reed-Danahay's claim stands beside Bourdieu's own declaration that, 'I have always combined analysis of Kabylia with analysis of Béarn'. [START_REF] Bourdieu | Algerian sketches[END_REF] I argue that we can interpret Bourdieu's statements regarding the perceived close connection between Kabylia and Béarn as manifesting what Herzfeld calls 'practical Mediterraneanism'. This is a situated and pragmatic invoking of cultural stereotypes attributed to the Mediterranean cultural area intended to summon a pan-Mediterranean cultural unity. [START_REF] Herzfeld | Practical Mediterraneanism: excuses for everything, from epistemology to eating[END_REF] Herzfeld's focus is turned to the performative function of the practical reference to stereotypes. Just as a street merchant invokes the Mediterranean to sell amulets, for example, Bourdieu, I argue, invokes it for certain practical purposes. Therefore, as I assert throughout, I am interested less in following those who comment on Bourdieu's 'representations' of the Kabyle, than in what he does with these representations-both within his work and outside it.

It is particularly interesting that Bourdieu invokes the Mediterranean with its implications of cultural coherence in the context of the Algeria's anti-colonial struggle and postcolonial situation. Thus, I argue that one of the functions of Bourdieu's 'practical Mediterraneanism' is to enable him at once to recognise and to efface the power relations that haunt his intuitive comparisons between French peasants and the Kabyle. It transmutes differences of power into similarities of culture.

Bourdieu and colonialism: from the constative to the performative

The question at issue here, that of how the Kabyle can be depicted as both exotic and familiar, takes us first to the growing discussion about Bourdieu's early Algerian fieldwork and the representations of the Kabyle contained therein. This is a discussion that as recently as 2003 was still muted, such that Goodman was then able to observe the following: 'Given Bourdieu's contributions and commitments, it is somewhat surprising that his work has remained largely outside the purview of the literature attentive to the political and ethical responsibilities of ethnographic representation'. [START_REF] Goodman | The proverbial Bourdieu: habitus and the politics of representation in the ethnography of Kabylia[END_REF] This literature, accumulating especially among Anglo-American anthropologists in the wake of Said's Orientalism, appeared to neglect Bourdieu, placing him within a stream of blameless 'practice theory'. The critical attention that his early work would come to receive concerned particularly whether the facts of colonialism and anti-colonial war were sufficiently present in his depiction. This literature has, on the whole, arrived at the position that Bourdieu neglected these phenomena (at least in those works that became popular in the Anglophone world). In line with the schema orienting the nascent studies in the 1960s of Mediterranean communities, it is argued, Bourdieu represented Kabylia as comprised of traditional, hermetic village communities untouched by French colonial education, for example, the Algerian bureaucratic apparatus, or even by the presence of a war in their midst.

So, as Martín-Criado writes, whether or not the sociologist neglected it, '[t]he Kabylia that Bourdieu knew, far from being a traditional society, was, in large part, the result of colonial politics'. This conclusion is certainly drawn by those who are overwhelmingly critical of Bourdieu for ostensibly erasing any trace of such politics within his works. [START_REF] Martín-Criado | Les deux Algéries de Pierre Bourdieu[END_REF] But it also applies to those who seek to rehabilitate Bourdieu's early work by claiming that he was actually offering a kind of sociology of colonialism as well as an implicit critique. [START_REF] Go | Decolonizing Bourdieu: colonial and postcolonial theory in Pierre Bourdieu's early work[END_REF] In fact, these positions are not mutually exclusive, and the criticism to which Bourdieu's work has been subjected has not resulted in a wholesale rejection of the early work in question. Rather, it has brought about a notably bifurcated evaluation of his work, embodied in what can be called the 'two Algerias' conception. [START_REF] Goodman | Martín-Criado[END_REF] According to this view, Bourdieu depicted Algeria and its people in two, divergent manners: first, as a country devastated by approximately 130 years of French colonialism and the brutal imposition of a capitalist economy, not to mention the anti-colonial war. Second, Bourdieu depicted Algeria, or at least rural Algeria, as a timeless home for people like the Kabyle Berbers, illiterate and tied to the land, ignorant of monetary exchange, and fastened to rituals operating from time immemorial. This latter depiction of Algeria manifests itself in such 'anthropological' works as Outline of a theory of practice, while the former depiction, ostensibly lesser-known, appears in more 'sociological' works like Travail et travailleurs en Algérie. The two 'appear side by side, albeit fleetingly' in only one text, Bourdieu's first monograph, Sociologie de l'Algérie. [START_REF] Goodman | Introduction[END_REF] In any case, the ambivalence in Bourdieu's casting of the Kabyle means that they often appear in different roles according to the text in which they find themselves. Perhaps this internal bifurcation goes some of the way to explaining how the broad and varied collection of critics that has emerged over the years offers us no resolution to the question driving this paper: what makes possible Bourdieu's depiction of the Kabyle as both exotic and familiar? These commentators line up on a continuum ranging from early critics who saw Bourdieu resorting to exoticist and essentialist tropes in his depiction, to more recent critics, who observe a vacillation between familiarity and exoticism.

Even before the interpretive posture ushered in by Said's Orientalism, criticism of Bourdieu's characterisation of Kabyle society was apparent. Lacoste-Dujardin, for instance, reproached Bourdieu for describing in the Esquisse an ahistorical Kabyle society 'that goes back perhaps even to precolonial times'. Similarly, Said himself points out that Algeria as a political space, as well as the very fact of colonialism, are absent from Outline in particular. It is, for him, 'the exclusion of Algeria from Bourdieu's theorizing and ethnographical reflection in Outline that is noteworthy'. [START_REF] Lacoste-Dujardin | A propos de Pierre Bourdieu et de l' « Esquisse d'une théorie de la pratique[END_REF] Likewise, Herzfeld argues that in such a text as Outline, there prevails an interest in hermetically sealed 'local' villages concerned above all with honour and shame, effacing any treatment of local-state relations or the political conditions that make local, faceto-face relations possible. Herzfeld's interest in this point ascends to the more abstract issue of exoticism, for he claims that by bifurcating the local from the national in such an artificial manner, Bourdieu 'hermetically separates the values of the local community from those of the encompassing bureaucratic and religious institutions'. This separation itself stands in for yet another, a 'false distinction between societies with codified laws and societies with a customary morality that can only be invoked retrospectively…in other words, between "us" and "them"'. 14 Reed-Danahay, following Herzfeld's logic, mounts the claim that Bourdieu alternately 'Orientalises' Algeria as he 'Occidentalises' France, playing 'essentialised' versions of each off one another, highlighting for his Western readers at once the exotic character of the Algerians and the familiar character of the French. At issue most in Reed-Danahay's discussion is her recurrent invoking of Bourdieu's ostensible 'essentialising', whether it pertains to his categories of the Orient and the Occident, or to his 'use of an essentialized dualism of "modern" and "traditional" societies'. [START_REF] Reed-Danahay | The Kabyle and the French: Occidentalism in Bourdieu's Theory of Practice[END_REF] Clearly, the 'two Algerias' view refutes the idea that on the other side of the Mediterranean lies a 'traditional' society, counterposed to a 'modern' France. Similarly, Bourdieu's ethnography in rural France suggests that 'modernity' is, in his eyes, at issue within the borders of that nation-state.

Lane begins the move away from seeing Bourdieu as merely unfairly exoticising the Kabyle.

He notes that whatever the meaning conveyed by Bourdieu's portrayal, it is nevertheless the intention of the latter to attempt to subvert such dualism: 'Such a classically modernist and ethnocentric opposition between "primitive" authenticity and "modern" alienation is surely belied by Bourdieu's readiness to draw direct analogies between structures of domination in Kabylia and those at work in the West'. It is pivotal for Bourdieu's broader anthropological theses that he draw these analogies, present as much in his transmutation of the concept of honor into that of symbolic capital, as it is in the elaboration of the concept of habitus contemporaneously on both sides of the Mediterranean. Much hinges on these analogies, yet as Lane points out Bourdieu appears to rest on the very opposition that he seeks to dismantle: to argue that, in fact, the West is more exotic than it is presumed to be, as demonstrated by the analogies that can be drawn between it and a place like Kabylia, is to imply that the Kabyle are in fact exotic. Therefore, Lane argues, 'Bourdieu tends to hypostatise rather than deconstruct the poles of the opposition he seeks to critique'. [START_REF] Lane | Domestiquer l'exotique… exotiser le domestique': the symbiosis of ethnology and sociology in the work of Pierre Bourdieu[END_REF] Reed-Danahay similarly argues in more recent works that the exotic/familiar polar opposition, as it manifests in Bourdieu's work, is similarly inextricably bound: no longer does she claim that, for Bourdieu, the Kabyle are pre-modern and the French modern, for familiarity and exoticism are both found among each, insofar as he used 'both rural cases as contrasts to "modern" French society, up until his very last writings'. Reed-Danahay by this point notes that the colonial history in which Bourdieu's writing was implicated perhaps leads him to overstate the similarity between non-Arab Algerians, in particular, and the French. Thus, Bourdieu unwittingly took part in 'a wider ideology with a long history, in which the Berbers in North Africa were believed to share similarities with the provincial French, especially those in the south or in mountainous regions'. [START_REF] Lane | Tristes Paysans[END_REF] Such interventions as this point us in a more productive direction than the earliest discussions of Bourdieu's representations of the Kabyle that remain, predictably, on the level of the representation. That is, following Said's Orientalism, a focus on the representations themselves has remained, with their ramifications bracketed. In this way, the impetus of Said's initial argument, that these texts insert themselves in 'worldly' contexts, with associated material effects, is lost. [START_REF] Said | Orientalism[END_REF] This representational approach remains trapped in a kind of 'picture theory' of language, concerned with texts as external means of simply capturing a pre-existing situation, as if they persisted outside the reality they describe.

Concerns with representation appear beside concerns with the material entanglement of text

and world in what is probably the most exhaustive account yet of the relation of Bourdieu's ethnography to its historical context. Observing along with those concerned about representations that 'the colonial location of Bourdieu's work is nearly impossible to discern from the Outline', Goodman and Silverstein bring together papers in Bourdieu in Algeria that aim to restore Bourdieu's categories to their conditions of production. [START_REF] Goodman | Introduction' p 2[END_REF] These conditions comprise the concrete ethnographic circumstances of these concepts and their politicohistorical context. While questions of representation have been answered and exhausted, those pertaining to the precise material relations between the colonial project and Bourdieu's ethnographic practice and findings remain open. They claim that such a concept as habitus has travelled free of such a context, invisibly accompanied by those Kabyle who initially gave rise to it. This is a consequential claim, for if the scrutiny applied to Bourdieu's early studies demonstrates, as they assert, that his ethnography is predicated on a deformed Kabyle reality, then we must ask what such concepts do as they find themselves deployed in conditions outside those in which they were fabricated.

Along with Martín-Criado, Goodman and Silverstein present the most persuasive case yet that Bourdieu's fieldwork remains saturated with mythical notions about Kabylia, beginning with his idealised conception of a people who no longer exist as such. Bourdieu himself cautions in various asides and footnotes that the Algeria he describes ought to be written about 'in the past tense' alone. That is, a peculiar mélange of colonialism and recent anticolonial war serves as a causal principle in the destruction of this culture that he nonetheless proceeds to describe. [START_REF] Here | Perhaps it might be better to write the whole of this essay in the past tense. Indeed, the dislocations which Algerian society has suffered as a result of contact with Western civilization and of the colonial situation[END_REF] That this did not appear to alter his anthropological accounts of Kabyle culture leads Goodman and Silverstein to suggest that Bourdieu was led to mistake for timeless elements of 'traditional' practice what were in fact recent responses, 'the accommodations Algerians may have made to colonialism'. While they spend most of their piece enforcing this point, perhaps the more significant step their commentary makes is redirecting us from the representationalist approach that I mentioned above. In particular, as ethnographers of contemporary North Africa, they are concerned with how such idealised conceptions of Kabyle life have, with the ascension of Bourdieu's popularity, fed back into present practices of Berber activism, leaving the latter movement with a calcified conception of the history of the culture for which it advocates. Chachaou, by contrast, sees Bourdieu's contribution to the movement as largely negligible. 21 In any case, and whatever the verdict on this particular issue, what is most important is the particular attitude toward the ethnography: not simply a synthesis of recorded observations, a passive-or mistaken-reflection of the world, with which the representationalist priority satisfies itself, but an active figure in the production of a world. This shift, from conceiving representations as constative, seeking to capture and describe the world, to conceiving them as performative, inescapably affecting the world they purport to represent, takes us back to a concern with the relation between texts and the world in which they are enmeshed. Thus I ask, after Goodman and Silverstein, how does Bourdieu 'do things with representations'? More precisely, we can follow Skinner, who expresses this 'in terms of Austin's claim that we need to be able to understand what the speaker or writer may have been doing in saying what was said'. [START_REF] Skinner | Regarding method, Visions of politics[END_REF] To properly mobilise this ethos, we need to focus on Bourdieu himself, for a time, as the exclusive focus on the purported 'other' here has impaired a proper response to our basic question. By turning to the ways in which the Kabyle are intertwined and replaced in a system of representations, within which Bourdieu's 'self-conception' (his representation of Béarn) is present, we are able to better determine what work they do within his work.

The Kabyle mirror

If we take seriously the metaphor of Kabylia as a peculiar mirror in whose reflection Bourdieu sees himself otherwise, then it is insufficient to consider his depiction of the Kabyle in a vacuum, that is, outside of his own self-perception. This leads us to consider their place within Bourdieu's work as a whole, to consider Bourdieu's depiction of them within the system of representations in which it occurs. We begin with the preponderance of links Bourdieu himself posits between the Kabyle and his own Béarnais people. It is thus crucial to consider Bourdieu's conception of himself within this system. The fact that in anecdotal reflection Bourdieu hardly invokes either Béarn or Kabylia without mentioning the other suggests a profound entanglement. Initiating such a line of thought, Certeau asks, 'is it possible to say which-Béarn or Kabylia-is the doublet of the other?' [START_REF] De | The practice of everyday life[END_REF] This entanglement indicates, likewise, that it is just as difficult to consider Bourdieu's depiction of Béarn in isolation as it is to consider his depiction of Kabylia outside the former.

I attempt to clarify this by drawing on Bourdieu's numerous remarks to the effect that there is a particular 'Mediterranean' quality that subtends their relation. Thus, the relation between them traverses the system of representations that comprises the 'Mediterranean' region. We can thereby begin to make sense of the uncanny, both exotic and familiar, position of the Kabyle, for this is intrinsic to the nature of such a category as the Mediterranean. As Herzfeld suggests, like 'matter out place', Mediterranean cultures resist assimilation into existing categories that render them either familiar or exotic, civilised or primitive. But this resistance to categorisation does not owe to an actually existing simultaneous cultural familiarity and distance. Rather it owes to an ethnocentric vision of the Mediterranean, which alternates between the roles of cradle of civilisation (typified by Ancient Greece) and fallen peasant land to the south. Thus, it is 'us', that from which we derive. However, it is removed from us by the unbridgeable distance of mythic time. 24 The account of the Mediterranean to which Herzfeld contrasts his own has been termed by others an imperial or colonial one. Lorcin and Shepard, in a recent collection of historical work on the region, begin from the claim that 'the concept of this sea as a unified space is essentially a Western one, devised by the imperial powers that patrolled its seas and controlled its ports'. In opposition to this unified, 'monotheistic' vision, Chambers has called it a 'postcolonial sea', irreducible to the unitary conception. [START_REF] Lorcin | Introduction[END_REF] Rather than enter into a fruitless debate about its ontological status, I wish to pursue Herzfeld's performative line of inquiry and ask once again what such representations do.

Herzfeld introduces a notion of 'practical Mediterraneanism' to capture the quotidian instances in which this region and its associated stereotypes-like concern for honour and shame, for virility, and a practice of 'amoral familialism'-are invoked in the face of some kind of practical exigency. These range from the trivial need to excuse behavior all the way to political and commercial imperatives (selling the romantic Mediterranean to tourists, e.g.).

Such everyday recourse to the region and its stereotypes has, for Herzfeld, the effect of bringing the region into existence, of reproducing its existence in the form of a 'practical accomplishment'. Thus, to invoke it is a speech act, fabricating the Mediterranean region as it ostensibly designates it: 'such culture-area categories have an existence by virtue of being articulated'. [START_REF] Herzfeld | Practical Mediterraneanism[END_REF] The benefit of such an approach, Herzfeld asserts, is that it enables us to escape irresolvable ontological questions-those of whether the region really exists outside representations made of it-and to determine what social effects its presumed existence has.

Still, Herzfeld clearly rejects the presumption of a Mediterranean culture region as an analytical category. Essentially, anthropologists' presumed existence of the region leads them to resort to circular reasoning and therefore to redouble to power of the pre-existing stereotypes. Beginning with the premise that the cultures of this region are preoccupied with honour and shame, for example, the anthropologist seeks and finds proximate notions and presumes they are the translated form of this basic concept: despite the meticulous ethnography in which they are presented, onore and honra and filotimo and nif and namus end up seeming to be always-already in place, awaiting only the ethnographer capable of recognizing-rather than constructing-their inherent mutual translatability, and their collective reducibility to the Englishlanguage term "honor". This is the besetting circularity of the Mediterraneanist model of honor and shame. [START_REF] Herzfeld | Performing Comparisons: Ethnography, Globetrotting, and the Spaces of Social Knowledge[END_REF] The risk that anthropologists pose here appears to be on the level of unwittingly accepting stereotypes, giving legitimacy to the responses that people give daily as means of justifying some action or another. In Herzfeld's account, anthropologists lend authority to these regionalist claims. After granting this sanction, however, the intellectual disappears from view in this account. Yet, there are benefits to imposing this framework on such an intellectual as Bourdieu. That is, to treat him no different than those '[l]ocal people [who] invoke the idea of a shared Mediterranean identity for a variety of reasons'. [START_REF] Herzfeld | Practical Mediterraneanism[END_REF] It is especially pertinent because this approach is implicit in Bourdieu's own model. Indeed, Herzfeld here comes close to a Bourdieusian approach to the fuzzy, practical logic of categories. For Bourdieu, people deploy categories, like that of region, in their everyday dealings not merely with the goal of describing or representing the world, but with intervening in it in some way: 'practical classifications are always subordinated to practical functions and oriented towards the production of social effects'. The concept of region is exemplary in this regard, for what is at stake in '[s]truggles over ethnic or regional identity', Bourdieu writes, is the power to 'impose the legitimate definition of the divisions of the social world and, thereby, to make and unmake groups'. [START_REF] Bourdieu | Language and symbolic power[END_REF] This is apparent in a dialogue between Bourdieu and Mouloud Mammeri, as the former claims that, '[a]s soon as one says "the Kabyles", this exists a little.... If I change the way of naming things, I change things a little'. [START_REF] Bourdieu | Esquisses algériennes[END_REF] Bourdieu, like Herzfeld, notes that the sociologist risks granting authority, complete with the grandeur of an assumed objectivity, to the claims of those who have an interest in the existence of a region.

The danger of adopting regional categories is the risk of granting them objective existence by furnishing them with a scientific veneer. The reflexive approach aims to militate against this, as Bourdieu shows by studying Montesquieu's climate theory, which mobilised everyday geographic categories of the 'north' and 'south' to explain perceived cultural differences.

Bourdieu claims that Montesquieu deployed contemporary scientific language to give credibility to what was in fact a mythological distinction, a 'phantasmal structure'. [START_REF] Bourdieu | Le Nord et le Midi: contribution à une analyse de l'effet Montesquieu[END_REF] In this way, Bourdieu treats Montesquieu as a kind of ethnographic subject. He later says that having 'read the text with Kabyle eyes, I immediately saw there an entirely Kabyle mythology, the North/South, the Hot/Cold...' [START_REF] Adnani | L'autre Bourdieu: celui qui ne disait pas ce qu'il avait envie de cacher[END_REF] In a reflexive spirit, we can extend this treatment to Bourdieu himself. This is to interpret the categories intellectuals deploy as if they were practical schemes, as Pina-Cabral notes: '[i]t is time, then, for a rethinking of the notion of the Mediterranean-one that sees anthropologists as strategists, wheeler-dealers, and manipulators of power like Italian, Greek, and Spanish peasants'. [START_REF] Herzfeld | The Mediterranean as a Category of Regional Comparison: A Critical View[END_REF] So, for what practical ends does Bourdieu deploy the notion of the Mediterranean?

We must begin by placing Bourdieu historically amidst the post-war emergence of a sub-field of anthropology that took as its object the 'Mediterranean'. As others have noted, Bourdieu was one of the early contributors to the 'social anthropology of the Mediterranean', participating in a 1959 conference organised by Julian Pitt-Rivers, who collected the papers presented into Mediterranean countrymen. [START_REF] Albera | Entre deux rives'; Isac Chiva, 'Pierre Bourdieu: "une ethnographie particulière[END_REF] Bourdieu's approach can broadly be identified in Pitt-Rivers' introduction to this collection, which takes an explicit position against the analytical framework that assumes a nation-state with its national culture. There are, within the Mediterranean, Pitt-Rivers writes, 'both more similarities between different countries and more diversities within their national frontiers than the tenets of modern nationalism would have us believe'. Such a sentiment is axiomatic in Bourdieu's 'peasant' studies, at least, where similarities between groups within France and Algeria appear at the forefront. At issue in these similarities is not, for Pitt-Rivers, 'the formal comparison of cultural features but the implicit comparison between different instances of similar phenomena'. [START_REF]Mediterranean countrymen: essays in the social anthropology of the Mediterranean[END_REF] Bourdieu's tendency toward this is evident in this discussion of the relation between Béarnais customs and those of Kabylia:

In Béarn there were in each of the small valleys little autonomous republics, which had their own customs, etc. There were collections of customs, the equivalent of the Kabyle kanoun. There are many other analogies: the same masculine values, the same values of honour, very democratic assemblies. 36 Here, Béarn and Kabylia appear flattened, manifesting as rural, pre-capitalist societies.

Bourdieu suggests that they possess the 'same' values and customs, merely appearing under different guises. There is a presumed consistency between cultures. Therefore, in the face of an asymmetrical relation between those in the metropole and the colonised Algerians, one can find identity on the basis of a posited cultural sameness. Here we see one instance of Bourdieu's 'practical Mediterraneanism'.

Much has been written in particular about the relation between Kabylia and Bourdieu's own

Béarnais region as it appears in his work. This relation is of interest not least because his early research was conducted contemporaneously: Bourdieu recalls that he and Sayad 'prepared Le Déracinement by night and, during the day, we went to do interviews in Béarn'. [START_REF] Adnani | Following Pierre Bourdieu into the field[END_REF] This relation is also of interest because many have pointed to Bourdieu's biography as a way of explaining his frequent reference to this parallel. Being raised in Béarn, it is implied, he naturally feels a sense of affinity for the Kabyle. [START_REF] Goodman | Introduction', p 27. 39 Adnani and Yacine[END_REF] Indeed, Bourdieu himself expresses this biographical interpretation in several places. He sees in Sayad a reflection, recalling that upon bringing him to his village in Béarn, Sayad 'understood immediately, thus helping me to understand the roots of my interest for the Kabyle peasants'. He will add elsewhere that the similarities yielded ethnographic gains: When I was in Kabylia, I mistrusted the old Kabyles, while admiring them very much, thinking to myself: "what is this man telling me about honour?"… And I said to myself: if it was an old Béarnais peasant who was telling me this, what would I think of it? 39 Yet Bourdieu will also propose the contrary, referring to Kabyle as foreign: '[h]aving worked in Kabylia, a foreign I thought it would be interesting to do a kind of Tristes tropiques but in reverse…to observe the effects that objectivation of my native world would produce in me'. [START_REF] Bourdieu | An invitation to reflexive sociology[END_REF] Given the coexistence of these opposites, we are again back where we began, with a relation to a group depicted as simultaneously familiar and exotic.

Others make sense of this contradiction by imputing to Bourdieu something of a cynical exploitation of his heritage to claim identity with the Kabyle, thus bolstering his empirical claims through extra-empirical means. Reed-Danahay writes that: He also sought to legitimize his work in Algeria by using his own rural roots in France to claim a sort of 'insider' status among Kabyle peasants, and to distance himself from others associated with the colonial power of France. [START_REF]Tristes Paysans[END_REF] One can read his own statements, to the effect that his geographical origins endowed him 'with a number of properties that are not without parallel in the colonial situation', in these terms. 42 Yet it would be a mistake to impute cynical and unverifiable subjective motives. Instead of seeing this as an attempt to legitimise his work, we can see it as a 'well-founded illusion', a genuine affinity founded not only in biography, but also in Bourdieu's theory, which posits, after all, homological identification. That is, if it is true that these properties have their colonial parallels, to be one of the 'internally colonised' does not efface one's position as a French metropolitan, 'objectively aligned with the colonizer in various ways, including legal and citizenship rights and social privileges'. [START_REF] Steinmetz | Defensive Anthropology[END_REF] One remains divided in this respect, both at the same time. This is to say that rather than concentrating on subjective intentions, we ought to place Bourdieu within a context, in which it happens that these ambivalent statements are difficult to escape. As I suggested above, invoking Herzfeld's description of the cultures of the region as like 'matter out of place', given the objective categories that structure our perception and definition of it, the paradoxical relation Bourdieu maintains with the Kabyle inheres in the objective terms of the circumstance. A between coasts, so to speak, is a natural corollary to the terms. Furthermore, Bourdieu's deployment of the Mediterranean-as a positing of cultural continuity between cultures on opposite coasts-goes further than a kind of biographical equation of Béarn and Kabylia. As we will now see, Bourdieu seeks to implicate France-and beyond-in this region.

Masculine domination and Bourdieu's 'practical Mediterraneanism'

Bourdieu's most explicit and continuous reference to the Mediterranean cultural region appears in the interventions that surround and culminate in Masculine domination. He makes his regionalist intentions clear in a 1990 article, 'La Domination Masculine'. Here, he attributes to a wide swathe of Mediterranean cultures a consistency with respect to attitudes towards honour and shame:

One can be convinced of the cultural unity of Mediterranean societies (of the present or of the past, like Ancient Greece) and of the particular place of Kabyle society by consulting the set of studies dedicated to the problem of honour and shame in different Mediterranean societies, Greece, Italy, Spain, Egypt, Turkey, Kabylia, etc. [START_REF] Bourdieu | La Domination Masculine[END_REF] The reference to Ancient Greek culture commits Bourdieu to the strongest Mediterraneanist claims. The uncanny character of the Mediterranean as a category, according to Herzfeld, derives from the place of Greece, which is 'cast by the citizens of more powerful states in the conflicting roles of quintessential source of European culture and undisciplined Mediterranean peasantry'. [START_REF] Herzfeld | The Horns of the Mediterraneanist Dilemma[END_REF] Clearly, Bourdieu does not attribute these roles to the Kabyle. He does, however, invoke Ancient Greece, going to great lengths to associate the Kabyle, in particular, with this culture. His discussions with Mouloud Mammeri, in which he draws parallels between Kabyle and Homeric poets, demonstrate this. [START_REF] Bourdieu | For Bourdieu's reference to Mammeri as a 'prudent man', which he translates into 'Aristotle's phronesis, a very Kabylian concept' see Bourdieu, 'La réappropriation de la culture reniée: à propos de Mouloud Mammeri[END_REF] Bourdieu argues that within Ancient Greek texts a 'Mediterranean unconscious' is evident. He proceeds to claim that Kabylia, for a number of reasons, acts as a 'conservatory' of this unconscious. 47 The practices there, he proposes, mobilise in a highly visible fashion the practical categories, the particular gender oppositions, that also appear in these Greek texts. Furthermore, Bourdieu draws a link between the Kabyle categories and his 'own mental structures as a man born in the neo-Mediterranean cultural tradition'. He does not, contrary to some claims, posit an evolutionist path from the Kabyle to the French, which would render the former 'archaic forerunners' rather than descendants of a common ancestor . [START_REF] Bourdieu | Masculine domination revisited[END_REF] Rather, he presents the Kabyle as a 'particular case of the possible', one variant on the Mediterranean androcentric culture. This culture, which they display in stark form, 'haunts our unconscious'. [START_REF] Bourdieu | Social Space and Symbolic Space: Introduction to a Japanese Reading of Distinction[END_REF] It haunts our unconscious in the form of a system of cognitive oppositions homologous to that of male/female-like straight/bent, front/back, up/down, outside/inside, hard/softwhich, Bourdieu argues, serve to justify a social order that is gendered in numerous ways. This cognitive and corporeal system does so by both enacting and expecting certain behaviours and, upon finding these expectations fulfilled, attributes them to 'nature', to an inevitable biological difference between the sexes. Throughout the first half of Masculine domination, Bourdieu provides an account of this unconscious system, presenting an abstracted version of the Kabyle gendered worldview in a glaring and blunt form. It is in the second half of the book that Bourdieu describes 'our' societies, noting at the outset that the function of the detour through the Kabyle worldview is to provoke a feeling of unsettled recognition. While others have criticised Bourdieu's text for its apparent exoticism or its lack of attention to changes in gender relations in Kabylia, [START_REF] Lacoste-Dujardin | Opération Oiseau bleu: des Kabyles, des ethnologues et la guerre[END_REF] I wish instead to point out the gratuitousness of Bourdieu's detour through Kabylia. That is, we should ask what we gain from the recognition that such a distinction between, for example, the 'hard' and the 'soft' sciences is analogous to the masculine/feminine practical distinction instituted in Kabylia?

Recourse to this case is not necessary to establish what was by then known from studies of attitudes among Westerners. That is, what is the function of this unnecessary trip outside of the context of Western Europe? Why must we 'detour through an exotic tradition' to show to those who inhabit Europe something about themselves that sociological work has already shown them? [START_REF] See | What sex is science?[END_REF] Its function rests precisely on provoking in the reader a scandalised response, a shock predicated on the expectation that the reader will resist recognising herself in a presumed exotic tradition. Because of this explicit concern with the reader and the effects of the text, Bourdieu's Masculine domination is a convenient selection given our concern with performative statements. He speculates that 'the experience of the unprepared reader' of the text will range from a feeling of banal recognition to 'a form of disconcertation, which may be accompanied by an impression of revelation, or, more precisely, of rediscovery'.

Bourdieu's practical Mediterraneanism: it ostensibly serves as the hinge for a historical account of the universal.

Bourdieu's method here reveals something about his attitude to the dialectic between the particular and the universal. He asserts widely and paradoxically that immersed study of the particular enables one to extract universals or 'invariants'. That is, the universal lodges itself within the particular, enabling the 'ethnosociologist [to be] a kind of organic intellectual of humanity, …placing his skill at the service of a universalism rooted in the comprehension of different particularisms'. 55 Yet this appears to be a presumed universalism, just as a trait like honour is presumed to prevail throughout the Mediterranean, only subject to translation. This resolves the paradox of the universal within the particular-for the particular was not so originally, since Bourdieu begins from the premise that all practices can be substituted within a structure. 56

Loss and reappropriation

By turning to the universalist pretence of Bourdieu's sociology, we are closer to understanding how the exotic Kabyle can be depicted as familiar: precisely because practices are substitutable within a system of differences, they cannot but be familiar-their exotic disguise notwithstanding. Bourdieu's personal remarks on the 'labour of reappropriation' express this ambivalence: studying the Kabyle, he confesses, enabled him to reclaim certain traits he had relinquished. He states that 'it was Algeria that enabled me to accept myself.

The gaze of the understanding that I applied to Algeria, I could then apply to myself, to the people of my region, to my parents, my father's accent…' [START_REF] Bourdieu | La réappropriation de la culture reniée: à propos de Mouloud Mammeri[END_REF] By seeing certain traits in the deforming mirror of an apparently exotic culture, he could reappropriate them. These traits are both his and not his, for it is only because they were 'other'-sufficiently distant from him-that they could be shorn of their stigma and reappropriated. All of this is only possible in a framework of the substitutability of practices. This suggests again that despite their necessarily exotic façade, Bourdieu's Kabyle are rather quite familiar. Therefore, we can follow Hage, who writes that in contrast to somebody like Lucien Lévy-Bruhl, 'Bourdieu…offers no conception of such radical otherness'. [START_REF] Hage | Eavesdropping on Bourdieu's philosophers[END_REF] To pursue the mirror metaphor that presented itself at the outset, we could say that while the Kabyles offered a reflection in which Bourdieu could recognise himself otherwise, the 'anti-narcissistic' aim should be, as Maniglier asserts, 'to return to us an image in which we do not recognise ourselves'. [START_REF] Maniglier | La parenté des autres: à propos de Maurice Godelier[END_REF] This would replace Bourdieu's approach with Rimbaud's famous 'I is an other' formula; for the sociologist, on the contrary, 'an other is I'. The exotic is a priori domesticated.

I wish to conclude by making a suggestion for future inquiry concerning Bourdieu's relation to Kabylia, and in particular concerning the conditions of possibility for this 'a priori domestication', for this (mis)recognition of the other as oneself. This takes us back to the colonial conditions in which this depiction is founded, but by revising how we conceive of both colony-metropole relations and Bourdieu's field theory. As Steinmetz suggests, Bourdieu's field theory should be revised by an expansion beyond the borders of the nationstate. [START_REF] Steinmetz | Social fields, subfields and social spaces at the scale of empires: explaining the colonial state and colonial sociology[END_REF] This is especially the case for those spaces defined as empires or colonial networks. It is perhaps particularly apt for French Algeria, for this land was-at least nominally-'integral' to the metropole. If we think of the French social space as extending to encompass Algeria, we can more precisely explain Bourdieu's uncanny depiction of the Kabyles: here, the Mediterranean becomes a kind of denied or transmuted version of this imperial social space, and Bourdieu's affinity becomes one of homology. The Béarnais become analogous to the 'dominated fraction of the dominant class', finding in the dominated-the colonial subject, from whom one is not a just sea apart but with whom one is joined in social spacesome affective bond. Perhaps this is too hasty a speculation, for it requires rigorous reconstruction of this social space, and a determination as to whether it is possible to delineate as such. Indeed, Steinmetz claims that there are practices that persist outside of social space, in which one 'lack[s] control of any and all power or resources'. This is, he adds, 'particularly crucial in colonial situations, where pre-existing social relations and institutions are often shattered without anything new taking their place'. This would certainly include the resettled Algerians whom Bourdieu and Sayad studied. But even if indigenous Algerians were not, throughout the colonial period, deprived of all power or resources in such a brutal manner, it is not clear that they would belong to a social space continuous with the metropole.

Finally, we must draw a consequence from the fact that Bourdieu's biographical circumstances, invoked constantly and implicated in his work as epistemological strategies, cannot be ignored in understanding his relation to the other. It is possible that a psychoanalytic framework could supplement the analysis presented here predicated on practical Mediterraneanism. Indeed, my concluding postulation, that the Mediterranean could be a denied transmutation of the French-Algerian imperial social space, depends on such a conceptual apparatus. Once again, Steinmetz offers some direction in this regard: it is a variation of 'the widespread phenomenon of the colonizer's cross-identifications with the colonized'. [START_REF] Steinmetz | The Devil's Handwriting: Precoloniality and the German Colonial State in Qingdao, Samoa, and Southwest Africa[END_REF] By taking up such a vocabulary, we can rework the position I took at the outset while invoking Bourdieu's allodoxia, the 'false recognition founded on the misrecognised relation between two histories that brings one to recognise oneself in another history'. This is perhaps a playful allusion on Bourdieu's part to Lacan's 'misrecognition'. As such, the sociologist's account can be sustained with more attention to the psychological mechanisms at play. By attending to the 'uses' that Bourdieu makes of his representations of the Kabyle in various points of his work, we encounter his 'practical Mediterraneanism', the performative instantiation of this region. For him, this is a way resolving his ambivalent position, transmuting a colonial relation into a cultural one, perhaps substituting the Mediterranean region for social space of the French empire, within which Bourdieu occupied a homologous position to those whom he was originally marshalled to control. It follows that the inextricability of self and other in Bourdieu's system of representations is an objective product of the conditions in which he found himself. 3 Pierre Bourdieu, 'Le mort saisit le vif: les relations entre l'histoire réifée et l'histoire incorporée', Actes de la recherche en sciences sociales 32-33, 1980, p 3-14, p 14.

Notes1

  Tassadit Yacine, 'Pierre Bourdieu, amusnaw kabyle ou intellectuel organique de l'humanité', in Rencontres avec Pierre Bourdieu, Mauger, Gerard Paris: Editions du Croquant, 2005, p 565-74, p 572. 2 Dionigi Albera, 'Entre deux rives: Pierre Bourdieu, l'anthropologie et la Méditerranée', in L'Algérie sociologique: hommage à Pierre Bourdieu (1930-2002), Chachoua, Kamel Algiers: CNRPAH, 2012, p 59-72, p 62; Alban Bensa, 'Pierre Bourdieu et l'anthropologie', in La liberté par la connaissance: Pierre Bourdieu (1930-2002), Bouveresse, Jacques and Daniel Roche Paris: Odile Jacob, 2004, p 249-80, p 265.

Masculine domination can thus be considered the most overtly political of his scholarly texts.

In the preface to the English and German translations of this work, Bourdieu takes the time to describe the logic underlying it, stating that it examines the mechanisms by which an order of sexual division is historically instituted. Uncharacteristically, from this logic, Bourdieu extracts a general political lesson: 'Combating these historical forces of dehistoricisation must be the most immediate objective of an enterprise of mobilisation aimed at putting history in motion again by neutralising the mechanisms of the neutralisation of history'. He proceeds to call for a 'strictly political mobilisation…oriented towards legal and political reforms'. 52 This political reading, which sees Masculine domination as a manifestation of his 'Realpolitik of reason', is supported if it is correct, as Addi proposes, that Bourdieu's claims are empirically flawed. Addi suggests that the kind of masculine domination observed in France, in which women are more likely to be socially subordinated and excluded from certain spaces and activities on account of their gender, is distinct from the kind associated with Kabylia. This is so even if their practical manifestations are similar. The latter form is predicated on the importance of patrilineal descent and the denial of women's contribution to the labour of reproduction, resulting in their effacement within the lineage, manifest in facts like different, and differently valorised, names for paternal and maternal uncles. [START_REF] Addi | Sociologie et anthropologie chez Pierre Bourdieu: Le paradigme anthropologique kabyle et ses conséquences théoriques[END_REF] If so, Bourdieu's analysis fails as a historical examination of some kind of Mediterranean unconscious, for the manifest practices, however similar they appear, have distinct causal principles. Thus, Bourdieu's claims can be taken as intuitive rhetorical postulates, attempts to universalise his claims, rather than empirical claims about Mediterranean cultural traits. We ought to then question the mirror analogy that Bourdieu himself deploys here: what is the status of the image thrown back if the causal processes underlying it are discrepant? This seems to be a clear instance of misrecognition. Bourdieu's Mediterranean-as exemplified by the Kabyle-functions, then, as a mirror whose image is vague enough that anybody can recognise herself in it. This claim is supported by his attempt to extend the scope of contemporary cultures who owe their 'masculine cosmogony' to this particular mythico-cultural fount: speaking to a Berkeley audience in 1996, Bourdieu claims that 'it lies behind our own European and even Euro-American cultural tradition'. Such a claim renders sensible the further proposition that it serves as the source for the anthropological assumptions of even a Jewish Viennese man like Freud. [START_REF] Bourdieu | Masculine domination revisited[END_REF] North Africa, Europe, and the lands colonised by countries from the latter, then, all appear to owe their attitudes to this particular region. Herein lies the second element of


Estelle Ferrarese

Axel Honneth's Antagonism: What Changes When the Mode of Acquiring Recognition Changes

Axel Honneth defines his objective as the theorization of a "permanent struggle for recognition" (Honneth 2002: 502), where this permanence is conceived in the form of historical stages, driven by successive struggles, progressing through the expansion of the normative content of recognition. As has been frequently pointed out (see, for instance, Markell 2003), such a permanent struggle is accompanied by permanent reconciliation. In this chapter, I would like to focus on an additional assumption that this argument relies upon, one which has been less frequently highlighted and even less elucidated: the assumption that there is a struggle in the first place.

While Honneth clearly demonstrates that a denial of recognition does not necessarily lead to a struggle, the recognition that is given is generally considered in a context of struggle. From his project to reveal the "moral grammar" of social conflicts in The Struggle for Recognition (1995), to his reflections on the recourse to violence in his essay on "Invisibility" (2001), through to his debate with Nancy Fraser, in which he argues that "each principle of recognition has a specific surplus of validity whose normative significance is expressed by the constant struggle over its appropriate application and interpretation" (Honneth, in Fraser & Honneth 2003: 186), his position on this subject has varied little. Even the central thesis of Reification (2008) does not question this idea. Admittedly, Honneth now defines "recognition" as a primary form of the relationship to the world in a way that seems to reduce the significance of the motif of conflict: "our actions do not primarily have the character of an affectively neutral, cognitive stance toward the world, but rather that of an affirmative, existentially coloured style of caring comportment. In living, we constantly concede to the situational circumstances of our world a value of their own, which brings us to be concerned with our relationship to them" (Honneth 2008: 38). However, this is a more fundamental level of recognition than that addressed in previous studies, and Honneth's account of it in no way calls into question other modes, including their relations with conflict. As Honneth emphasizes in his response to his commentators, including Judith Butler and Martin Jay, this original form of recognition "is not intended to contain any norms of positive concern or respect. Nor does it claim that certain positive, benevolent feelings are at work" (Ibid: 151). Love and hate, ambivalence and coldness, can all be expressions of this elementary recognition. But at the higher level, where three modes of recognition are distinguished, hate, ambivalence and coldness may be seen as denials of recognition which give rise to struggle.

It is very clear that Honneth reflects on the nature of the moral attitude that causes a person to respond to the other's normative expectations (see, for instance, Honneth 2007a). However, the motif of recognition rarely appears without being accompanied by that of struggle, implying that the potential instance of recognition resists my expectations or even my demands.

The self-evident character attributed to the motif of struggle can of course be linked to the thesis -a weak one at that -of a historical realism. According to this thesis, the permanence of struggles is merely what is revealed by the history of modern societies; struggle enjoys prominence simply because it provides a means of obtaining by force that which could not be obtained by any other method.

But if we scrutinize the phenomenology of struggles, they are less self-evident since that they imply that the party to whom the requests for recognition are addressed acknowledges that it is indeed an addressee of requests, but at the same time it resists these requests. However, this admission assumes accepting the burden of the justification of the denial. Hence the solution consists in either denying any antagonism, or in redefining the nature or the reason for the interaction. As pointed out by Frantz Fanon, in a well-known footnote of Black Skin, White Masks, the White man does not interpret his relationship with the Black man in terms of a struggle where recognition is at stake; what he expects from the Black man is his work (Fanon 1986: 194). At the other end of the spectrum of neglected possibilities, there is the case of recognition granted without struggle. This is particularly true in the framework of reflexive democracies: many colonized societies or dominated groups often no longer have to struggle for their freedom. Rather it is negotiated, obtained through constitutional amendments, or simply given by the colonizer or the dominant groups, and granted in the form of political rights (see [START_REF] Coulthard | Subjects of Empire: Indigenous Peoples and the Politics of Recognition in Colonial Contexts[END_REF].

A more demanding explanation would be that the presence of struggle arises from a genuine theoretical necessity, from a constraint internal to Honneth's philosophy. In this case, his social theory should account for the existence of social groups that have an interest in the permanence of particular social situations. However, it is difficult to find such an account, for recognition is not posited by Honneth as a scarce good, which would mean as a matter of course that some people's access to this good would deprive others of benefiting from it too. In this case, what people have to gain from resistance is obvious, as it is in the theory of class struggle, where some people's dependency on the position occupied by others in relation to the mode of production makes the struggle to end the existing order inevitable. But there is no room for such an interpretation in Honneth's moral grammar of social conflicts.

Why then, in spite of the fact that struggle does not in any way proceed from a logical constraint, is it put forward? What is lost, on a theoretical level, if we speak of recognition without speaking of struggle? The idea of toleration, brought into play in similar contexts of cultural or religious heterogeneity, does not seem to focus on antagonism. Similarly, the idea of the decent society [START_REF] Margalit | The Decent Society[END_REF], which is presented as the political and moral antonym of humiliation, is not mediated through the idea of conflict. It therefore seems that it is not its finality (which is shared with theories that do not resort to conflict) that gives struggle the pre-eminence it enjoys in Honneth's theory of recognition. Instead we may put forward the hypothesis that the centrality of struggle derives from something specific to its movement, to its economy, which gives it a character that is as inevitable as it is normatively desirable.

In light of these reflections, I believe it to be necessary to identify the properties attributed to struggle that could explain the central place it occupies in Honneth's system. First, I will consider some hypotheses concerning the history of the concept in order to try to explain the prominence of struggle (1). Then I will examine the effects that the two struggling parties have on each other (2), before considering the effects attributed to struggle in the world in which it emerges (3).

Struggle and the history of philosophy

Hegel would seem to be the inevitable starting point for investigating the association between recognition and struggle. However, approaching the question from this angle turns out to be quite unproductive:

1) When Honneth draws on Hegel, he does not follow the line of thought opened up by Kojève's reading of the dialectic of master and slave, which in the Phenomenology of Spirit makes struggle an inescapable fact. In this tradition, "action", defined as the transformation of the world that is hostile, "will begin with the act of imposing oneself on the "first" other man one meets. And since this other, if he is (or more exactly, if he wants to be, and believes to be) a human being, must himself do the same thing, the first anthropogenetic action necessarily takes the form of a fight" (Kojève 1980: 11). But such an anthropology is nowhere to be found in Honneth's writings. He does not interact with this tradition at all.

2) Honneth devotes the first two chapters of The Struggle for Recognition to proving the need to reformulate the theory of struggle found in Hegel's Jena writings, because it is impossible to grasp precisely the reasons for the initiation of struggle. But when he describes how he himself fits into the Hegelian heritage, he has the same difficulty. In fact, even though The Struggle for Recognition is based exclusively on the Jena writings, it is Hegel's Philosophy of Law, from which struggle is conspicuously absent, that Honneth must turn to in order to defend his conviction -shared by all the members of the Frankfurt School -that the cause of society's negative state, the source of social pathologies, is to be ascribed to a deficit of social rationality. According to Honneth, the idea of Objective Spirit contains "the thesis that all social reality possesses a rational structure, which one can offend against by the practical application of false or inadequate concepts only on pain of prompt repercussions throughout social life itself" (Honneth 2000: 19). And he argues that, in one way or another, all of his predecessors in fact adopted for their own purposes Hegel's idea that social pathologies should be understood as the result of societies' inability to adequately express the rational potential already inherent in their institutions, their practices and their routines [START_REF] Honneth | Eine soziale Pathologie der Vernunft. Zur intellektuellen Erbschaft der kritischen Theorie[END_REF]). But we are left with no explanation -other than the Frankfurt School's passage through Marxism -as to why he then adds that for Critical Theory the Hegelian realization of reason must be understood as a multifaceted conflictual learning process in which universally applicable knowledge is produced when the resolution of problems provides improvements, where this occurs against the resistance of dominant groups (Ibid). In other words, the deployment of reason derives from a common praxis that creates solutions inextricably linked to conflicts that enable learning. However, this proposition cannot be justified by the framework borrowed from the Philosophy of Law, and so we still do not know why the resistance of some to others is the necessary condition for this learning to happen.

3) As already mentioned, for Honneth, the legal and institutional order is changed by a series of struggles for recognition. Indeed, it is merely the product of successive struggles, which, in modernity, have progressively broadened the normative content of the concept of recognition. Here again, he simply assumes that there is resistance, in the sense that the existing institutions actively resist the demands for recognition.

Nevertheless, here we are very far from the metaphor of the siege used by Habermas to characterize relations between the processes of the democratic formation of opinion and the political system: "Communicative power is exercised in the manner of a siege. It influences the premises of judgment and decision making in the political system… It thus aims to assert its imperatives in the only language the besieged fortress understands" (Habermas 1997: 59). In this case, it is easy to imagine (which is not exactly what Habermas does) a fundamental state of conflict between institutions and civil society, the two being strangers to each other in nature, consistency and logic.

Let us consider how Honneth, in Suffering from Indeterminacy (2000), reproaches the Hegel of the Philosophy of Law. In this work, Honneth interprets Sittlichkeit as a concept that refers to all spheres of communication, which, because of their moral assumptions, are capable of producing a reciprocal demonstration of recognition. Thus, he describes a constitutive series of need, self-interest and honour, which form so many degrees of individuation, and which correspond to three institutions, the family, civil society and the state. However, observing that in the case of the intersubjective confirmation constituted by love, it is the family, and not friendship that Hegel uses to develop his thesis, Honneth concludes, with regret, that Hegel favours the legally institutionalized forms of Sittlichkeit. He sees two reasons for this stance: the stability specific to legally institutionalized forms, which is conferred upon them by the possibility of legal sanctions, and the fact that they can be created by mechanisms that are controllable by state legislation.

While, according to Jean-François [START_REF] Kervégan | L'Effectif et le rationnel[END_REF], the Philosophy of Law posits the state at the same time as an (inter)subjective reality, a lived bond, a shared aspiration to living-together, and an objective system of institutions, Honneth sees it as exactly the opposite. According to him, when Hegel comes to question the form of recognition specific to this sphere in the chapter on the state, he shifts from forms of intersubjective recognition, as in the case of the family and civil society, towards vertical forms of recognition between citizen and the state ( §260), with the result that the intersubjective dimension of the state is lost.

Honneth opposes a conception of the institution, derived from the work of Arnold Gehlen, as a "practical set of actions …that have taken the form of intersubjectively shared routines and habits" (Honneth 2001a: 115). According to Gehlen, to whom Honneth devotes an extensive discussion in Soziales Handeln und Menschliche Natur (1980) -an early work written with Hans Joas -institutions unburden man (who is described as a being abandoned by his instincts) of the complexity of the world. Institutions are seen as coagulations into forms, and include morality, legal relations and stereotyped models of behaviour.

The question that then arises is why such institutions should resist demands for recognition, and thus always make struggle necessary. Here we are dealing with institutions in the way Vincent [START_REF] Descombes | Les Institutions du sens[END_REF] defines them, in terms of the grammatical rule and the shared meanings which individuals find themselves faced. In other words, the strength and form of the institutions can be illustrated by language, the use of which is possible only as long as it conforms to pre-existing constraints.

Understood in this way, at best institutions are unavailable to constant change.

However, to speak of resistance and confrontation in this context makes little sense. Can one struggle against language?

The intention here is not to deny the autonomy of the system of norms that constructs institutions from every individual's opinions. But the most obvious thesis regarding the ineluctability of struggles against institutions, that of the solidification of norms and representations in positive law and in state apparatuses, which become intangible and self-centred, is swept aside by the very type of reproach that Honneth directs at Hegel. If the theoretical background from which the idea of recognition is extracted does not suffice to explain the centrality attributed to struggle for recognition, we must turn our attention to the attributes which struggle assumes in its material expression, according to Honneth. From a logical point of view, we can consider three possible effects specific to struggle: it transforms A who demands; it transforms B who resists;

or else it modifies their interaction and the world that gives shape to it (in a way that the absence of combat would not allow). Let us begin by considering the effects that the two struggling parties have upon one another.

Struggle and the struggling parties

First, let us examine the ability of struggle to affect the party to whom the requests for recognition are addressed: the most radical possibility here would be to put an end to the denial of recognition by doing away with this party, rather than forcing it to take my existence into consideration. This is the model of the struggle to the death.

Unsurprisingly, it has no place in Honneth's work, and more fundamentally, the motif of confrontation must remain compatible with the following: "A decentering takes place in the recognizing subject because she concedes to another subject a 'worth' that is the source of legitimate claims infringing upon her own self-love. 'Confirmation' or 'affirmation' thus means that the addressee is equipped with as much moral authority over one's person as one knows oneself to have in being obligated to carry out or abstain from certain classes of actions" (Honneth 2001b: 122). In other words, we are not in an agonistic perspective in the full sense of the term, where the temporary end of the conflict does not result from renewed understanding, but purely and simply from the victory of one of the two parties.

The project of the proponents of "agonism", such as Chantal Mouffe and Ernesto Laclau, just the same as Honneth, is to demonstrate that antagonism is constitutive of the social. Mouffe thus defines 'the political' as opposed to 'politics', as "the dimension of antagonism inherent in human relations" (2000: 101). However, this perspective is founded on a denial of the moral dimension of the human relations.

According to these authors, the refusal of morality is the condition of a democratic politics whose purpose is to "construct the "them" in such a way that it is no longer perceived as an enemy to be destroyed, but as an "adversary", that is, somebody whose ideas we combat but whose right to defend those ideas we do not put into question" (Ibid: 102).

For Honneth, by contrast, social conflicts that concern the adequate interpretation of dominant standards of recognition necessarily have a moral point.

"What makes such claims moral is, first, that they concern the social conditions of undistorted subjectivity and agency, and second, that they require of social agents an attitude that goes beyond an immediate concern with their self-interest in being responsive to the needs of others" (van den Brink and Owen 2007). If we have to abandon the proposition that struggle is simply what makes the other submit, we must dismiss the idea of a struggle whose result would be to force others to accept as true what is already true for oneself, that is, to win a cognitive victory. Contrary to this model, which posits that awareness of the other bestows truth to the certainty that the winner has of his being, for Honneth, the instance of recognition is not merely required to passively ratify an existence or an identity, since it must be involved in co-producing it.

Let us now consider how struggle changes individuals who enter into it. One might claim that it is important that the person who has experienced a denial of recognition frees himself of it himself, because struggle is a process in which a subjectivity is revealed to itself and at the same verifies itself. Here, subjectivation is to be understood as the emergence of a political subjectivity. I will leave aside the question of ontogeny, which would mean engaging in psychological considerations that have no place here.

The intertwining of subjectivation and antagonism is put forward by Jacques Rancière in Disagreement. He considers the process of subjectivation, not as the acquisition of awareness and voice in an entity existing prior to this confrontation, but as taking form through a series of operations involving the production of a new field of experience, operations with which it remains co-extensive. "By subjectification I mean the production through a series of actions of a body and a capacity for enunciation not previously identifiable within a given field of experience, whose identification is thus part of the reconfiguration of the field of experience" (Rancière 1995: 56).

Honneth hints at a move in this direction in The Struggle for Recognition, when he writes that social shame is "a moral emotion that expresses the diminished self-respect typically accompanying the passive endurance of humiliation" from which one can be liberated only through active protest and resistance (Honneth 1995: 121).

However, the idea that struggle creates the subject engaged in it remains in the background for Honneth, who restricts himself to considering the effect of struggle on the relationship to self and qualifies it as a "secondary motivation" (Honneth 1995: 163) of the conflict. This idea was a lot more in the foreground for Fanon, for whom the irreducibility of the motif of confrontation in the logic of recognition proceeds quite plainly from the self-affirmative function attributed to struggle. To the extent that he did not make the other recognize him, the French Negro was "acted upon"; only confrontation enables him to free himself from "the inessentiality of servitude" (Fanon 1986: 194. It is worth also noting that in Honneth's theory absolutely no room is given to the establishment and assertion of a collective subject, or even just a collective consciousness. The process of transition to struggle is described in its collective dimension, but we know nothing about the nature of this collective or its reason for being. We are told that only if the individual is able to express his feelings in a context of intersubjective interpretation that identifies him as typical of a whole group, then the transition to struggle is possible. In other words, the effectiveness of the struggle depends on the existence of a collective semantics (Honneth, 1995: 163). Honneth therefore only clarifies the formation of a collective entity in terms of the availability of grammatical, almost cognitive resources that make certain formulations and the articulation of certain demands possible. However, nothing is said of the process of producing the common inherent to the struggle itself. He does not consider struggle as a modifier, and even less as a generator of this collective, although this is the approach taken by Georges Sorel, whom he quotes. Considering that Marx is mistaken in his belief that society is divided into two fundamentally antagonistic groups, Sorel attributed violent struggle with the function of dividing the society "into two camps, and only into two" (Sorel 2007: 164). In this way, he accounts for the unifying and autotransformative logic of struggle and for the shaping of the collective entity that carries it. By failing to do the same, Honneth seems to postulate a given consciousness and an identity that precede the conflict.

Generally speaking, for Honneth, struggle has no ability to act as a force of revelation of self to self --except in the margins: "the idea of a struggle for recognition doesn't necessarily imply that subjects struggle merely on the basis of a diffuse feeling of being disrespected totally, thus only gaining a clear conception of their actual goal in the course of their social struggle. Rather, what generally motivates these struggles is the still unclear and merely negatively formulated realization that one possesses the same qualities and abilities as those who have been recognized (institutionally), but without enjoying corresponding public recognition" (Honneth 2007: 364).

I have thus made clear that struggle is not prominent in Honneth's theory because of its possible effects on the struggling parties. Let's therefore examine the last theoretical option: the effects one can attribute to struggle in the world in which it emerges.

Struggle and the world

At first glance, this explanation seems to be the easiest to defend, since for Honneth struggles for recognition move nothing less than history itself. As the instrument by which societies experiencing moral progress gain in rationality, such struggles are seen as the condition of possibility for the learning process described above. Here we are dealing with a clearly Hegelian postulate. As Honneth himself points out in Disrespect, Hegel's model includes the "venturesome but challenging idea that ethical progress unfolds in a series of three levels of increasingly demanding patterns of recognition, and that an intersubjective struggle mediates between each of these levels, a struggle that individuals conducts for the purpose of having their identity claims confirmed" (Honneth 2007a: 132).

Nonetheless, Honneth distances himself partly from the Hegelian position because for him conflict does not have the function of motivating the transition to the next ethically-constituted institutional step. Each sphere must be marked by an internally-caused conflict over the legitimate application of the principle of recognition in question (Honneth, in Fraser and Honneth 2003: 144). It remains the case that struggle is normatively justified as the engine of evolution, both at the level of the species and at that of individuals. This is most certainly related to an idea that has no explicit foundation, apart from at the individual level: there is no access to the principles of justice except negatively. This is the reasoning that Honneth develops from the role played by the emotions in the transition to struggle, emotions that he endows with a cognitive dimension. The expectation of recognition is integrated into the structure of interactions, to the extent that the individual implicitly expects to be taken into account in the projects of others in a positive way (Honneth 1995: 45). It is on the occasion of failures of recognition, and through the emotions they arouse, that the subject discovers himself to bear normative expectations which relate to his vulnerability. The attention of the disappointed subject shifts to his own expectations, making him simultaneously aware of the cognitive elements -in this case the moral knowledge -that governed his action (Honneth 2001c: 110).

We are given less explanation about the evolutionary effect of what is (sometimes) the later stage -that is, collective struggle. We are simply informed that it unfolds the surplus validity of the norms of recognition in force, against the dominant interpretative praxis. This characteristic calls for two remarks.

(1) One might think, since struggle creates a normativity that would otherwise remain out of reach, that confrontation is the necessary condition for an act of recognition to be normatively valid, in the sense that struggle would qualify the justice or the fairness of the result. But here we encounter a problem: for, when Axel Honneth examines the ideological -that is to say, normatively false -forms of recognition, it is not struggle that constitutes the evidence of a non-ideological recognition. Rather, such recognition stands out because "something in the physical world -be it modes of conduct or institutional circumstances -must change if the addressee or addressees are to be convinced that they have been recognized in a new manner" (Honneth 2007c, 342). I will therefore propose the following thesis: struggle has a mediate role in Honneth's schema. The fact that it occurs does not directly imply that the act of recognition to which it leads is normatively valid, but it is proof that the world has changed.

In modern societies characterised by reflexivity, there are two possibilities.

Either the denial of recognition perceived by a group is "justified", in the sense that another group in a position of domination has integrated the practice of denial, by means of a coherent legitimating discourse, in a social order apparently neutral from the moral and epistemic point of view. Or else the denial quite simply does not appear, as the available grammar precludes the characterisation of what certain subjects undergo.

Bringing to light the denial thus implies overcoming the epistemic deficit which hinders a person from making a lived experience intelligible to himself and to others. But the impossibility for the victim of making heard the wrong it has undergone results from unequal participation in the creation of collective models of interpretation. This is also what Nancy Fraser highlights, when she states: "it is unjust that some individuals and groups are denied the status of full partners in social interaction simply as a consequence of institutionalized patterns of cultural value in whose construction they have not equally participated and which disparage their distinctive characteristics or the distinctive characteristics assigned to them" (Fraser, in Fraser & Honneth 2003: 29).

Because as much as the justifications made for some denials of recognition -and the existence of an epistemic deficit which masks others -result from power relations, their contestation always implies the claim to, or the appropriation of a power to construct meaning and hence the world.

(2) Furthermore, it should be noted that the idea of surplus validity -as unfolded by struggle -refers to something that already exists as potential: it is not about creating something new, but about making a potential actual. Indeed, Honneth considers it as part of the legacy of leftist Hegelianism, which he claims as his own, that there must be an identifiable element of practice or experience that is a piece of socially incorporated reason insofar as it contains a surplus of rational norms or organizational principles pressing for their own materialization (Honneth, in Fraser & Honneth 2003: 238).

However, if it is then a question of actualization, we must clearly understand what is meant by this concept. It was defined by Axel Honneth in a debate initiated by Arto Laitinen, who, in discussing the nature of the act of recognition, attempted to overcome the choice between the constructivist model of attribution, and the response model (which treats acts of recognition as responses to pre-existing reasons that reside in what the subjects claiming recognition really are -that is to say, what they are already). In this context, an act of recognition merely actualizes an identity, a quality or a capacity existing as potential. However, Honneth adopts this proposal in order to give it a particular meaning (Honneth 2002: 510). His inquiry proceeds from the difference between the qualities that we know intellectually and those that we embrace emotionally, precisely the movement that is covered by the concept of actualization: "I intended this notion to indicate the act by which subjects become capable of identifying wholly with the evaluative qualities of which they are already culturally aware…. The distinction between potentiality and actuality indicates neither an epistemic gap nor a space to be bridged over, but a rift between ethical knowledge and social expression" (Honneth 2007b: 356). It seems to me that this is the function performed by struggle; it confers the quality of world-changer to the party demanding recognition.

In bringing together these last two points, we can understand the importance of struggle in the motif of recognition. To be sure, Honneth's reasons for his preference for antagonism remain unclear. But this inquiry into his theory allows us to reconstruct the following justification. Extracting the ability to modify the state of the world seems always to be the object of the struggle for recognition, whether explicitly or implicitly, accompanying a claim to be recognized as a member of a polity or as the bearer of particular identity. In the same way that requests for visibility are doubled in reality -as demonstrated by Axel Honneth -by more fundamental expectations relating to the status of being worthy of moral consideration, an attentive reading of the confrontational movement, so obvious and yet so rarely questioned directly in the constellation of contemporary theories of recognition, teaches us that any struggle for recognition comes with a double meaning: on the one hand, it is about the designated object (identity, lifestyle, contribution to the common project, status, etc.), and it is also about a power of construction, or, to put it in other terms, the world-changer status. And this double meaning then provides us with an explication for the unspoken necessary motif of resistance. The status of world-changer can only result from a struggle against an enemy that resists; for if the latter anticipates the request, or even the expectation, for recognition, it maintains its monopoly over this status.

  Thus, at the conclusion of my examination of the idea of struggle in analyses of recognition, it turns out that the initial reticence of the instance, which nonetheless ends van den Brink, B. and Owen, D. (2007) Introduction, in Recognition and Power, edited by B. van den Brink and D. Owen. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Williams, R.R. 1997. Hegel's Ethics of Recognition. Berkeley and Los Angeles: California University Press.

up yielding to good reasons, is the sign -because it is defeated during the struggle -of my ability to alter the world. In other words, the logic that explains the prominence of struggle in Honneth's theory of recognition, far from revealing simple fidelity to the Hegelian reference, covers the three points of analysis that I set myself: struggle is necessary and desirable because it triggers the transformation of A who demands, B who resists, and the world; and each is changed because all the others are changed. In this sense, there is never a return to a commonness preceding the struggle, even though the recognition of the subjects having engaged a struggle would not seem to have modified the social and political order.