"The reason being that the colonized intellectual has thrown himself headlong into Western culture. Like adopted children who only stop investigation their new family environment once their psyche has formed a minimum core of reassurance, the colonized intellectual will endeavor to make European culture his own. Not content with knowing Rabelais of Diderot, Shakespeare or Edgar Allen Poe, he will stretch his mind until he identifies with them completely" (Fanon 156). When this fails, the intellectual tends to fixate an idealized version of native culture, creating a romanticized, but ultimately false version of the past. "Seeking to cling close to the people, he clings merely to a visible veneer. This veneer, however, is merely a reflection of a dense, subterranean life in perpetual renewal" (Fanon 160). However, the colonial intellectual does not realize that even when he attempts to perceive the 'pure' past, he is still using the aesthetic standards and language of the oppressor, having internalized them to such a great degree. "The colonized intellectual who returns to his people through works of art behaves, in fact, like a foreigner" (Fanon 160). The third part of the cycle is when the intellectual becomes a 'galvanizer' of the people, who tries to make his fellow natives aware of the unfair changes wrought to their nation by force, and encourages them to revolt against their oppressors. The intellectual uses "combat literature" and revolutionary literature -- and, most importantly a truly national literature emerges (Fanon 158-159).
Fanon clearly believes that this final stage is the truest source of national identity in formerly...
Neo-colonial outrage must inevitably be based in reaction against material forces, not based upon some conception of 'culture' created by intellectuals that many of the intellectuals' co-nationals may not even share. "The colonized intellectual is responsible not to his national culture, but to his nation as a whole" (Fanon 161). Culture is but one aspect of this, states Fanon, rejecting the idea that culture permeates all aspects of human discourse. What we call 'culture' is not always relevant when understanding issues of class oppression, for example, in his view, when members of the colonial ruling classes have established themselves as the haves, while the colonized have become the have-nots.
But perhaps the greatest danger of using 'national culture' as a rallying cry, rather than national economic or political interests is that culture becomes "extreme, congealed, and petrified" (Fanon 172). Perhaps the most extreme examples of this are civil wars, or wars based upon 'ethnic cleansing,' as have taken place in the former republics of Yugoslavia and in Africa. National culture, having been used as a rallying cry against colonialism, begins to inflame old ethnic conflicts. Nor can the nation be the only source of culture, given the fluidity of culture and its transcendence of national borders. Culture must be a living thing, and people must constantly tell and re-tell their stories, says Fanon, with reference to contemporary events. Concrete, shared national interests, rather than a vague sense of 'national culture' must be the lifeblood of all future revolutions that fight to create a more equitable world.
