Structure and limits of the field: forms of capital

The limits of any social field of activity are determined by the capital available for participants in that field (Bourdieu & Wacquant 1992). This means that the awarding of positions to contenders in the field of translating Islam is conditioned by the type of capital available to them in the field. It is important here to indicate that Bourdieu’s concept of ‘capital’ is broader than the monetary concept of capital in economics. It is a generalised ‘resource’ that can assume monetary and nonmonetary, as well as tangible and intangible forms (Anheier,

100 Gerhards & Romo 1995). Depending on the field in which it functions and on the form of transformations, capital can present itself in three fundamental guises: 1) economic capital, instantly and directly convertible into money and may be established in the forms of property rights; 2) cultural capital, convertible, under certain conditions, into economic capital and may be institutionalized in the forms of educational qualifications; 3) social capital, which consists of social ‘connections’, or memberships to certain organizations. It is also convertible, under certain conditions, into economic capital and may be realized in the forms of social titles. Bourdieu also elaborates a generic type of capital that he calls symbolic capital, which is a manifestation of each of the other forms of capital when they are considered on their own terms (Bourdieu 1986: 243-248).

Whatever the form in which capital may be manifested, it is the value of capital that makes participation in the field meaningful. It is what gives the game a subjective sense and makes it worth playing (ibid). It is social and symbolic capital that are particularly relevant to our examination of the field of translating Islam.

Social capital is about the value of social networks and the ensuing influence within the field. Peter the Venerable explicitly stated the intentions of his project, in a letter to Bernard of Clairvaux (1090-1153) as:

My intention in this work was to follow that custom of the Fathers of the Church by which they never silently passed by any heresy of their times, not even the slightest, without resisting it with all the strength of faith. (Kritzeck 1996: 37, emphasis added)

In this letter there is a perceptible amount of investment from Peter the Venerable in his own capital and in the significance of his work, through the utilisation of the established values of

101 the past Fathers of the Church. He projects himself as the devout adherent to the values of the Church which have been upheld by the Fathers before him. He further emphasises the credence of his work in the prologue to his Liber contra sectam sive haeresim Saracenorum (The Refutation of the Sect or Heresy of the Saracens). He states that “the reason for my writing these things was precisely which the many great Fathers had”, and “the Church of God always did and does this” (ibid: 38). In so doing, Peter the Venerable was amassing his capital in the field and, at the same time, reproducing the value of this capital by preserving its status. Peter’s claim to follow the footsteps of the “Fathers” before him offers him a form of social capital in the shape of a membership to that elite group of churchmen who upheld the principles of the faith and defended its values. This, in turn, would strengthen his ties with the Church’s diocese, as well as confirm his connections with the social network where he operates.

Another example of Peter the Venerable’s claim to the credibility of his work, and thus its capital value, can be observed in another letter he wrote to Bernard with regard to the translators he chose for the translation project, in which he says, “they are men skilled in both languages […] I found them in Spain […] and brought them to do this” (Kritzeck 1996: 38). Peter’s comment, ‘skilled translators’ implies quality product, and consequently worthy of possible accolades with all the symbolic value attached to them. In line with preserving, accumulating and reproducing one’s social capital, which is exercised through social connections, Peter the Venerable wrote to Bernard of Clairvaux to inspire and encourage him to carry the fight against Islam and save Christianity:

102 I have made all these things known to you specially […] that I may animate that magnificent learning of yours […] to write against so pernicious an error […] this task is yours to combat, destroy, and crush by every study, through word and writing […] through your mouth, filled with praise of Him, the benign Spirit may reply to the spirit of iniquity, and fill up the treasures of His Church with the wealth of your wisdom. (ibid)

This social capital claimed by Peter the Venerable would consequently be converted to symbolic capital in the form of recognition and prestige. Symbolic capital is about the resources available to an individual on the basis of reputation, prestige or recognition. It functions as an authoritative incarnation of cultural value. Possessors of symbolic capital are not only able to justify their possession of other forms of capital, but also are able to change the structure of the field in which they apply their trade, and the rules by which the field operates (Bourdieu 1990).

Peter the Venerable’s numerous assertions of his endeavours may have been unintentional in terms of amassing capital and consecrating his position in the field. Nevertheless, it is safe to argue that his claims have had that effect. If we appropriate Bourdieu’s idea of Illusio (which, according to Bourdieu and Wacquant (1992: 98), is the object of the translator’s task. It is the agent’s commitment to participating in the game and its stakes, and granting these stakes a recognition that escapes questioning), if we appropriate illusio to the case in hand, it must have been very clear to Peter the Venerable that the game was worth playing, first and foremost in the eyes of his Lord.