Calm and Not Explosive
Weekly column written for the Singapore Unbound newsletter. Sign up here.
Can migrant workers in Singapore, most of whom work in the construction and shipping industries, be considered "subalterns"? The Italian Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci first coined the term to identify social groups marginalized and excluded from the socio-economic institutions of society in order to deny their political voice. Then the term "subaltern" entered postcolonial theory to denote a colonized people, who are regarded by their colonizers as essentially different from themselves, and thus, inferior. To think about migrant workers in Singapore as "subalterns" is to consider not only how they have been proleterianized by their work in Singapore, despite the high educational levels of many of these workers, but also how they have been made over into an image of the Other, the Lesser. Conversely, it is also to think of Singapore not only as a capitalist but also as a neo-colonial power.
These thoughts spring to mind when I read the poem "First Draft" written by Zakir Hossain Khokan about the workers' dormitories that have been isolated by the state after many of the workers tested positive for COVID-19. Almost 20,000 migrant workers are housed in these dormitories, a population larger than many small towns in America. Zakir, who is a quality-control supervisor in the construction industry, is a graduate of the National University of Bangladesh and an award-winning poet, editor, journalist, photographer, film producer, and social entrepreneur. Through many poetic moves, including the canny use of "they" to acknowledge the distance between the workers' speechlessness and his own privilege of speech, Zakir expresses poignantly the many difficulties confronting the subalterns who would speak.
From "First Draft":
They are afraid
of speaking their minds.
Bound by the agent’s fee,
their lives are mortgaged to the unknown.
Days and years pass,
the beautiful city changes, but not their salary.
...
Journalists approach them
selectively, from time to time
with probing questions.
They are too fearful to answer
because they know
even the journalists are afraid
of Someone.
—
Sometimes literary folks and intellectuals visit them too.
They inspire them to read, speak up, write, draw, take photographs, make films
but emphasise that their art should be calm and not explosive.
—
Still, even if the analysis is right, there is a tactical disadvantage to describing migrant workers as subalterns. It divides them from Singaporean workers, when a bottom-up movement must be built upon working-class solidarity. This is what is missing from current approaches to fighting for migrant workers' rights. We lack explanations, backed by stories and symbols, of the common interests shared by migrant and local workers. Neither the state-dominated National Trades Union Congress nor the government-sponsored Migrant Workers' Centre will make those links for us; instead, as tools of their neoliberal masters, they work to highlight difference and competition. We need to think more deeply, and to organize better, to overcome all symbolic and actual obstacles. The recommendations of MARUAH, a Singaporean human-rights organization, are a step in the right direction. We need a labor movement that makes no distinction between local and foreign.
Just two more days to submit to the Gaudy Boy Poetry Book Prize. See details below.
Jee Leong Koh
May 14, 2020
Can migrant workers in Singapore, most of whom work in the construction and shipping industries, be considered "subalterns"? The Italian Marxist philosopher Antonio Gramsci first coined the term to identify social groups marginalized and excluded from the socio-economic institutions of society in order to deny their political voice. Then the term "subaltern" entered postcolonial theory to denote a colonized people, who are regarded by their colonizers as essentially different from themselves, and thus, inferior. To think about migrant workers in Singapore as "subalterns" is to consider not only how they have been proleterianized by their work in Singapore, despite the high educational levels of many of these workers, but also how they have been made over into an image of the Other, the Lesser. Conversely, it is also to think of Singapore not only as a capitalist but also as a neo-colonial power.
These thoughts spring to mind when I read the poem "First Draft" written by Zakir Hossain Khokan about the workers' dormitories that have been isolated by the state after many of the workers tested positive for COVID-19. Almost 20,000 migrant workers are housed in these dormitories, a population larger than many small towns in America. Zakir, who is a quality-control supervisor in the construction industry, is a graduate of the National University of Bangladesh and an award-winning poet, editor, journalist, photographer, film producer, and social entrepreneur. Through many poetic moves, including the canny use of "they" to acknowledge the distance between the workers' speechlessness and his own privilege of speech, Zakir expresses poignantly the many difficulties confronting the subalterns who would speak.
From "First Draft":
They are afraid
of speaking their minds.
Bound by the agent’s fee,
their lives are mortgaged to the unknown.
Days and years pass,
the beautiful city changes, but not their salary.
...
Journalists approach them
selectively, from time to time
with probing questions.
They are too fearful to answer
because they know
even the journalists are afraid
of Someone.
—
Sometimes literary folks and intellectuals visit them too.
They inspire them to read, speak up, write, draw, take photographs, make films
but emphasise that their art should be calm and not explosive.
—
Still, even if the analysis is right, there is a tactical disadvantage to describing migrant workers as subalterns. It divides them from Singaporean workers, when a bottom-up movement must be built upon working-class solidarity. This is what is missing from current approaches to fighting for migrant workers' rights. We lack explanations, backed by stories and symbols, of the common interests shared by migrant and local workers. Neither the state-dominated National Trades Union Congress nor the government-sponsored Migrant Workers' Centre will make those links for us; instead, as tools of their neoliberal masters, they work to highlight difference and competition. We need to think more deeply, and to organize better, to overcome all symbolic and actual obstacles. The recommendations of MARUAH, a Singaporean human-rights organization, are a step in the right direction. We need a labor movement that makes no distinction between local and foreign.
Just two more days to submit to the Gaudy Boy Poetry Book Prize. See details below.
Jee Leong Koh
May 14, 2020
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