Reflections on methods, power relations and ethics
We cannot know everything, nor can we survey power as if we can fully understand, control or redistribute it. What we may be able to do is something rather more modest but, perhaps, rather more radical: to inscribe into our research practices some absences and fallibilities while recognising that the significance of this does not rest entirely in our own hands.
(Rose, 1997: 319)
Ethnographers are more and more like the Cree hunter who (the story goes) came to Montreal to testify in court concerning the fate of his hunting lands in the new James Bay hydroelectric scheme. He would describe his way of life. But when administered the oath he hesitated: “I‟m not sure I can tell the truth…. I can only tell what I know.”
(Clifford, 1986: 8)
Sixty-three years after the Nakba (1948), Palestinian refugees and refugee camps are still very much a reality (i.e. 2011). In particular, Palestinians in Lebanon have suffered the most acute social, economic and spatial marginalisation. My interest in the Palestinian refugees in Lebanon began some years ago when an undergraduate student of „Oriental Languages and Cultures‟ in Ca‟ Foscari University of Venice (Italy). Concerned with the inconclusiveness of the Peace Process that started in the early 1990s, at the time my investigation pivoted around the Palestinians‟ legal status in the country. Fieldwork in Beirut in 2004 was based on archival research to find out more about the ways in which Lebanese legislation contributes in placing the Palestinians at the margins of politics. Very
From the „field‟ to the „representation‟
40 little time was dedicated to the visit of the camps or to encounters with the Palestinians. I thought that knowing about what they are excluded from and the official politics towards them could reveal their predicament and condition. In the pages of what became my BA dissertation, laws, decrees and administrative orders „spoke for and about them‟ as if official statements and politics could narrate their everyday life and struggles (Martin, 2005).
While the analysis of past researches and methodologies is beyond the scope of this chapter, previous experiences have shaped the ways in which this doctoral investigation has been undertaken. My previous lack of consideration of Palestinian „voices‟ was a gap I felt needed to be filled. Documentary testimony represented by the Lebanese legislation and discrimination against the refugees needed to be supplemented with life experiences and accounts of everyday struggles. Aware that refugees‟ accounts would have always been filtered through my interpretation and authorship and therefore aware of the impossibility of escaping the „speaking for‟ dilemma, my doctoral investigation was two-fold. On the one hand, and aware that responsibility for the conditions of the Palestinians in Lebanon does not lie on the Lebanese state only, I became increasingly interested in uncovering the complexity and multiplicity of sovereign powers that affect the Palestinian refugees in Lebanon. While looking at different geopolitical scales (international, regional, national, and sub-national including the individual), I seek to examine how different interests, representations and concerns conflate into the Palestinian life and how technologies of power acquire a spatial form through the establishment of refugee camps.
On the other hand, and in this countering a literature that tends to locate power in the official sites of politics, I was interested in exploring the refugees‟ everyday practices of survival and forms of resilience that resist and challenge their political, social and economic exclusion.
In order to address these concerns, a combination of sources and methods was essential. A multilayered method which includes archival research, interviews with stakeholders, and ethnography in the refugee camps seemed the right approach to investigate the exception itself: the way it is produced, the sovereign/s deciding on it, and the ways it is „received‟. In line with my critique of Agamben‟s state and space of exception, combined methods would uncover multilayered exceptions decided by different actors (see Chapter 3 and 5). As representation of the Palestinians and their camps has been the focus of archive research and interviews with stakeholders, official statements and the official politics needed to be supplemented with and analysed along „subaltern‟ and
„de-From the „field‟ to the „representation‟
41 subjugated knowledges‟ of the refugees (Foucault, 2002, 2003). As this doctoral investigation does not claim any objectivity or universal understanding of what it means to be a Palestinian refugee in Lebanon, some clarification on research methods, ethics and unequal power relations are explored in the following sections to contextualise the production of this knowledge. In so doing, I intend to situate my claims as well as reflect on the different „texts‟ (interviews and documents) on which the analysis of the following chapters is based. While drawing some reflections on the methodologies adopted, this chapter critically addresses significant stages of the research process before, during and in the aftermath of the fieldwork. As reflection on the research as a whole required an investigation of the self – personal and academic concerns and ethics – the reader may notice a different writing style from the one adopted so far. Less formal and perhaps less
„academic‟, I intended that my methodology could be read the way I „lived‟ it and
„experienced‟ it stressing the potential biases, difficulties, the complexity of power relations in the field and its aftermath as well as issues of authorship and representation. In order to further problematise sensitive and ethical concerns of doing research, a sense of failure is included too. Although failings seem not to appear often in research methodologies, I believe that the only way to provide an honest account of the research process, constraints and difficulties should emerge along with reflections on complex and unequal power relations that inevitably mark Western investigations of the Palestinian predicament.
Planning and negotiating before the field
As discussed in the Introduction, the first considerations of the Palestinian refugees‟ lives and camps in Lebanon heavily drew on Agamben‟s (1995a, 1998, 2005a) reflections on „sovereign power‟, „exception‟, the „camp‟ and „bare life‟ (see Chapter 1).
Literature on the refugee‟s condition and spaces seemed to identify sovereign power with state‟s authorities who, from legislation to actual control of the camps, are deemed responsible for the production of the refugee‟s bare life. Yet, this framework seemed problematic. The scope of the question of Palestine was not only a Lebanese preoccupation as different governments (beyond Lebanon and Israel) and international inst itutions (such as the UN) have greatly contributed to the Palestinians‟ marginalisation and exclusion from a just political solution. Decisions taken at different scales needed to be investigated to
From the „field‟ to the „representation‟
42 locate and identify the multiplicity of sovereign powers that affect the Palestinian life in the country (see Chapter 3 and 5). Moreover, interested in exploring what happens after the decision on the exception has taken place and what the Palestinians‟ forms of resistance are, refugees‟ voices and spaces needed to be included in order to problematise the often taken for granted assumptions that „refugees equal bare life‟ and „refugee camps equal space of exception‟.
In order to address these concerns, I decided to adopt a qualitative approach through ethnographic practices and archival research. On the one hand, archival research accompanied with interviews with Lebanese government‟s officials, UN and Palestinian representatives, would have provided insights into the politics of exclusion of the Palestinian refugees‟ and refugee camps in Lebanon. While this approach would have been essential to uncover the juridical and legal aspects of the Palestinians‟ lives and camps in Lebanon, only ethnographic practices and participant observation in the camps could reveal the lived experiences, everyday struggles and resilience of the refugees. Direct observation could uncover the extent to which we might consider the refugee camp through Agamben‟s lenses of exception. As Nick Megoran (2006) argues, in fact, there is an urgent need to bring ethnography and ethnographic practices into the sub-discipline of political geography. In his research on the Uzbekistan and Kyrgyzstan boundary, Megoran (2006: 627) suggests that ethnographic participant observation combined with „technico-legal studies‟ might be the right key to understand political and geopolitical decisions as well as their impact on communities. In particular, ethnographic practices offer the chance to observe the ways in which people react to marginalisation and discrimination to which they are confined by developing different strategies of survival.
Fieldwork in Lebanon was crucial to address the research questions. Although it would have been interesting to access and research camps in remote areas far from Beirut, staying in the capital could allow observation of one of the camps of Metropolitan Beirut and facilitate access to archives, libraries and stakeholders. Moreover, while the camps of the capital could be easily accessed with no checkpoint obstructing entries and exits, this was not the case for the rest of the Palestinian camps. Indeed, my attempts to enter El-Buss camp in Tyre failed as I was stopped at the checkpoint and refused entry claiming that a special permission from Lebanese intelligence was required.
Considering the time constraints and potential risks in accessing other camps, I therefore decided that my investigation would have focused on Shatila (Metropolitan Beirut). Although Shatila is one of the most studied camps in Lebanon and the Middle East
From the „field‟ to the „representation‟
43 as site of one of the most tragic events of twentieth century history – the massacre of Sabra and Shatila in 1982 – it could still be approached from different angles and perspectives.
Rosemary Sayigh‟s (1994) and Julie Peteet‟s (2005) work have offered an excellent background on the history of the camp, its evolution and the predicament of its inhabitants.
While the political structure and administration of this camp has been partially covered (Kortam, 2007, 2008), Shatila‟s present day urban location also stimulated the examination of the relation of the refugee camp to informal settlements and the city. Very often, in fact, refugee camps are considered as separate spaces worth of attention and as spatial devices aiming at separating the figures of the refugee and the citizen. However, in this research I wanted to also move the enquiry beyond the camp boundaries to investigate in innovative ways the relationship of the camp with what lies outside (see Chapter 6). Therefore, although Shatila has extensively been written about, new perspectives could still be uncovered and revealed.
In the field: Between ‘Ethics’ and ‘ethics’
Ethnographic practices and ‘embodied’ research
Fieldwork in Beirut was conducted in three months between October 2008 and January 2009. As it included ethnographic practices, residing in the camp would have been the preferable solution to undertake ethnographic observation and to contribute to the life of the camp. However, a combination of strict university regulations and unfamiliarity with the camp led me to opt for accommodation outside Shatila. While „proper‟ ethnography would require living with and fully participating to the community‟s life, the approach of my research could still be considered ethnographic as I planned to regularly commute to the camp throughout the length of my stay in Beirut for some three days a week (Crang and Cook, 2007: 39; see also Bennett, 2002). Although I kept open the possibility to move to the camp once I had established trustworthy contacts, this possibility did not materialise as in December 2008-January 2009 „Operation Cast Lead‟ and the siege of Gaza at the hands of the Israeli army compromised my research in Shatila (discussed in more detail subsequently).
Access to the camp was obtained through the Institute for Palestine Studies where I began working on their archives. Moreover, I was known through previous contacts and
From the „field‟ to the „representation‟
44 research at the Institute in 2004. Through them I was introduced to an NGO with an office in Shatila and went through an interview in which the director of the NGO enquired about my research and aims. I fully explained the intention of my visits, information I was interested to know about the camp and the ways in which the material collected would have been disseminated or used. Once „cleared‟, they accompanied me to the camp and from there my research in Shatila began.
In May‟s (2001: 155-156) terms, I was not a „complete participant‟. I was not doing covert research, nor was I an outsider able to be fully engaged with the activities in the camp or the camp life. Rather, I was between being a „participant as observer‟ and
„observer as participant‟, meaning that my intentions and aims had been fully explained, but my visits to the camp were not solely for the conduct of interviews. Although I was not a participant in the activities of the NGO or in the camp life, I used to spend time walking around observing the camp and people‟s activities as well as observing the NGO workers and their activities. As this NGO is involved in the economic and social assistance of the people in the camp, observation and conversation with social workers offered precious insights into the camp‟s life and history. It also allowed me to acquire knowledge of the struggles faced by the inhabitants (such as families left with no income or support, individuals with serious health issues that cannot be cured through UNRWA or the problems of children and young people dropping out of school and education). As the social workers shared their work experiences with me, glimpses on daily difficulties for Palestinian people emerged so vividly.
Keeping a diary to record my encounters, the stories I was told and my observations in Shatila and the surrounding areas became an essential part of my fieldwork. The diary became a mixture of witnessing, observing, and interpreting the
„field‟ that was filtered through my eyes and senses. As notes on lives and experiences are inherently selective, fieldnotes, as Emerson et al. (2001: 353) suggest, are representations that „reduc[e] just-observed events, persons and places to written accounts‟ (see also Rabinow, 1977: 38). What the researcher misses or includes is part of what he/she might see or perceive as different. A diary might not be about „facts‟ only (provided we can easily discern facts from opinions or subjective constructions of events). Diaries could be seen as „data‟ or as „me‟ (Jackson in Coffey, 1999: 119). As some might be tempted to keep the „data‟ and the „me‟ separated in a vain attempt to give their work a nuance of objectivity, in my fieldnotes I left my „data‟ enmeshed with „me‟. As the diary was meant to remain „private‟, I wanted to leave my impressions guide my writing. Although it could
From the „field‟ to the „representation‟
45 be argued that this was not a scientific approach as I left the „self‟ encroach the „field‟, it proved the right strategy in helping reveal my own biases. This did not mean that the „me‟
prevailed on the „data‟ in all the aspects of my research. As the „me‟ influenced and described the field, I was in turn transformed and shaped by the „data‟, the camp, its surroundings and my encounters as my position and research questions were constantly challenged.
After each visit to Shatila, I would write about my day in the camp, stories I was told, my observations and perceptions. As it was not intended for publication, my diary (scratch papers and digital files written in both English and Italian) was made up of statements written as a non-stop flow. Since as time goes by memory fades and details are forgotten, no attention could be paid to the use of the right word or phrase or to the production of an „embellished‟ and well-thought account. Personal journals are often
„messy‟ in this way reflecting the confusion about the „field‟, the sense of displacement and misunderstandings. They are left open-ended with multiple questions and interpretations. They are not a finished work, but an ongoing process that does not necessarily reflect coherence, careful analysis and are also tied to emotions (see also Zara, Forthcoming). I was moving from a „realist tale‟, which considered events or the accounts of the people interviewed to a „confessional tale‟ in which my own thoughts and reflections became central too. So as to keep myself constantly aware that I was not immune to misjudgement and partiality, I decided that I would have not re-read my notes to correct wrong statements or interpretations. I left them open, incomplete with space on the side that would have allowed me to later revise opinions and to track misinterpretations in this way leaving my biases there to remind me of mistakes. On the one hand, the pages of my diary became a reminder of situations experienced. On the other, and perhaps more importantly, those pages became reminders of the fragility of my knowledge, my failures and misjudgements. The fieldnotes became also a record of difficulties and complexities of the life of the camp as well as doing research in an environment in which people are perceived, and perhaps rightly so, as disadvantaged; a place where the researcher, coming from a much better social and economic position, has to come to terms with an unwanted, undesired and sudden sense of empowerment and, at times, the resulting great sense of guilt.
These complex power relations, emotions and perceptions of the field needed to be exposed. Although it may seem a „confessional tale‟, it is part of doing more „embodied‟
research with no claim to objectivity or to the right distance to observe and understand.
From the „field‟ to the „representation‟
46 Nor is it a claim to an insider status that would not guarantee a truthful and objective account (see also Sidaway, 1992). Planned as private reflections, it became very much part of the research itself as my own way of tackling the „crisis of representation‟ by revealing fragilities and failures beside successful achievements. The account of the latter, in fact, would only place the researcher on a pedestal, tripping once again on the „god trick‟, on the gaze from nowhere that sees everything and, in so doing, promises objectivity (Coffey, 1999: 122-123; Haraway, 1988: 581).
Fieldnotes are not only essential as reminders of biases, but also offer preliminary analytical insights (see also Emerson et al., 2001: 361). The field was affecting me. It influenced my perspectives and challenged my position and research questions. As I re-read my notes, I can clearly remember my first day in Shatila as well as my recording of thoughts and encounters when I left. The camp boundaries were not visible and only those who accompanied me to the camp for the first time could tell where the camp „began‟ and
„ended‟. I drew rudimentary maps and sketches to remind myself where the actual northern camp boundary was (the side from which I used to access the camp). Only a net with open access divides the northern part of the camp from non-camp areas. While I am not arguing that the camp has always been this open and accessible (during the multiple sieges of the
„War of the Camps‟ in the 1980s it was encircled and closed by checkpoints until the early 1990s), the present day openness needed to be investigated as well as the relation of the camp to its outside. From that very first day, I realised how this peculiar aspect of Shatila
„War of the Camps‟ in the 1980s it was encircled and closed by checkpoints until the early 1990s), the present day openness needed to be investigated as well as the relation of the camp to its outside. From that very first day, I realised how this peculiar aspect of Shatila