Revolutionary Social Work 1032048409, 9781032048406

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Routledge Advances in Social Work

REVOLUTIONARY SOCIAL WORK PROMOTING SYSTEMIC CHANGES Edited by Masoud Kamali

Revolutionary Social Work

This book shows how social work can be an active agent for promoting revolutionary changes in order to counter the global neoliberal market fundamentalism which is destroying our planet and reinforcing socioeconomic inequalities, political instability, antidemocratic political ideologies and movements, small wars, conflicts, racism and other forms of oppression. Providing case-studies from South Africa, Chile, Iran, Europe, Australia and the USA written by leading critical and radical social work scholars, this book sheds light on consequences of the global neoliberal racial capitalism and postcolonial oppression. Presenting innovative ideas and suggestions for a revolutionary social work aim at promoting systemic changes and eliminating the roots of social problems, this book will be of interest to all scholars and students of social work, community development and social justice more broadly. Masoud Kamali is a professor of social work and sociology. Kamali has an ex­ tensive research experience and publications in the field of social work and so­ ciology with clear global perspectives on current social problems, such as neoliberalism, war, violence, forced migration, inequalities and discrimination. He has been appointed by the Swedish government as the head of the ‘Governmental Inquiry into Power, Integration and Structural Discrimination’ (2004–2006). He has also been the scientific leader of many international re­ search projects. Among his recent publications are: Neoliberal Securitisation and Symbolic Violence: Silencing Political, Academic and Societal Resistance (Palgrave Macmillan, 2021), ‘Revolutionary Social Work: Promoting Sustainable Justice’ (Critical and Radical Social Work, 2019), Neoliberalism, Nordic Welfare States and Social Work: Current and Future Challenges (Routledge, 2018), War, Violence and Social Justice: Theories for Social Work (Routledge, 2015), Racial Discrimination: Institutional Patterns and Politics (Routledge, 2009), and ‘Fishing for Development: A Question for Social Work’ (International Social Work, 2012).

Routledge Advances in Social Work

Understanding System Change in Child Protection and Welfare Edited by John Canavan, Carmel Devaney, Caroline McGregor and Aileen Shaw The Complexities of Home in Social Work Carole Zufferey and Chris Horsell Social Work, Social Welfare, Unemployment and Vulnerability Among Youth Edited by Lars Uggerhøj, Vibeke Bak Nielsen, Ilse Julkunen and Petra Malin Boys’ Stories of Their Time in a Residential School ‘The Best Years of Our Lives’ Mark Smith Social Work and Climate Justice International Perspectives Edited by Devendraraj Madhanagopal and Bala Raju Nikku Social Work and Human Services Responsibilities in a Time of Climate Change Country, Community and Complexity Amanda Howard, Margot Rawsthorne, Pam Joseph, Mareese Terare, Dara Sampson and Meaghan Katrak-Harris Revolutionary Social Work Promoting Systemic Changes Edited by Masoud Kamali Using Art for Social Transformation International Perspective for Social Workers, Community Workers and Art Therapies Edited by Eltje Bos and Ephrat Huss Revitalising Critical Reflection in Contemporary Social Work Research, Practice and Education Edited by Christian Franklin Svensson and Pia Ringø For more information about this series, please visit: https://www.routledge.com/ Routledge-Advances-in-Social-Work/book-series/RASW

Revolutionary Social Work Promoting Systemic Changes

Edited by Masoud Kamali

First published 2023 by Routledge 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2023 selection and editorial matter, Masoud Kamali; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Masoud Kamali to be identified as the author[/s] of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library ISBN: 978-1-032-04840-6 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-032-04841-3 (pbk) ISBN: 978-1-003-19484-2 (ebk) DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842 Typeset in Goudy by MPS Limited, Dehradun

Contents

Lists of Figures List of Table List of Contributors 1 Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work

vii viii ix 1

M ASO UD K A M ALI

2 ‘It’s Not Dark Yet but It’s Getting There’: Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance

31

IAIN F ERGU SO N A ND M I CH A EL LAV A LET TE

3 Progressive Revolutionary Change and the Democratic University: Reimagining Higher Education

48

PHILLIP AB LET T, C HR I ST I NE MO RL EY, A ND H EA THER FRASE R

4 Anger and Social Work

69

PAU L M ICHAE L GA RRE T T

5 Revolutionary Social Work: South African Perspectives

86

LINDA HA R MS - SM IT H

6 Chile Woke Up! Political Resistance of Chilean Social Workers in the Context of the 18-O Movement

107

PAZ VALEN ZUE L A- R EB OL LED O , G ER H AR D A LD AN A-A RA ZA , CARLA M O RA L ES - TO R RES , A N D G I AN I N NA M UÑO Z-A RCE

7 Crises, Social Work and Movements: The Greek Case DIMITRA-DO RA TE L ON I

128

vi

Contents

8 The Transformation of a Revolution: Neoliberalisation of the Welfare State and the Need for Revolutionary Social Work in Iran

146

SALA R KA SH A NI AN D N A SR I N G HA V A M I

9 Revolutionary Health: Radical Mental Health Social Work in the United States and the Liberation Health Model of Social Work Practice

164

DAWN BE LK I N M A RTI NEZ

10 Conclusion: The Need for a Revolutionary Social Work

179

M ASO UD K A MA L I

Index

193

Figures

6.1 Four types of professional resistance 6.2 ‘Cabildo’ in a public square in Santiago, 12 December 2019 6.3 Self-Convened Assembly of Social Workers’ flyer, calling for social workers to protest in the Square ‘Plaza Dignidad’ 6.4 Comic by Amalia Álvarez (@amalia.alvarez.r) for the October Commission, November 2019 6.5 Call for sharing testimonies related to human rights violations in the context of the 18-O, November 2019

112 115 118 121 122

Table

8.1

The need for a revolutionary social work

160

Contributors

Phillip Ablett is senior lecturer in social work and human services at the Queensland University of Technology; and senior lecturer in sociology at the University of the Sunshine Coast. He started his research career with participatory studies in solidarity with revolutionary organizations in the Philippines, and now focuses on social inequality and alternatives in social policy. Gerhard Aldana-Araza, BSW and qualified social worker, University Andrés Bello,Chile, he holds a master degree in social work, University of Chile. He is member of the Interdisciplinary Studies in Social Work Nucleus, University of Chile. He currently works at the Department of Education at the Municipality of Recoleta in Santiago de Chile. His master degree thesis was funded by the research project FONDECYT REGULAR 1201685, ANID-Chilean government. Iain Ferguson is honorary professor of social work and social policy at the University of the West of Scotland. He is editorial advisor to the journal Critical and Radical Social Work. Heather Fraser is associate professor of social work and coordinates the Master of Social Work program at the Queensland University of Technology. Heather started her work in refuges, shelters and what were called women’s services. Her research is critical, intersectional and feminist, and in the past decade, she has become a critical animal scholar. Paul Michael Garrett works at the University of Galway in the Republic of Ireland. In 2021, the International Journal of Social Welfare referred to him as ‘probably the most important critical social work theorist in the Englishspeaking world’. For many years, he has been part of the Critical Social Policy Collective and he is an elected member of the prestigious Royal Irish Academy. Paul’s contributions have been published in journals across a number of disciplines and he has authored several books. The latest is the acclaimed Dissenting Social Work: Critical Theory, Resistance and Pandemic (2021).

x Contributors Nasrin Ghavami received an MA degree in social sciences from Tehran University in 2009. She is currently working as a social researcher at Saba Pension Strategies Institute. Her research interests are social policy, social security, elderly and retirement studies. Linda Harms-Smith is assistant professor at the University of Pretoria, South Africa, previously at Robert Gordon University, Scotland, and University of the Witwatersrand, South Africa. Her scholarly work is on decoloniality, antiracism, and critical and radical social work. She is editorial board chairperson of the Critical and Radical Social Work journal and steering group member of the International and South African Social Work Action Networks. Masoud Kamali is a professor of social work and sociology. Kamali has an extensive research experience and publications in the field of social work and sociology with clear global perspectives on current social problems, such as neoliberalism, war, violence, forced migration, inequalities and discrimination. He has been appointed by the Swedish government as the head of the ‘Governmental Inquiry into Power, Integration and Structural Discrimination’ (2004–2006). He has also been the scientific leader of many international research projects. Salar Kashani received a PhD degree in political sociology from Tarbiat Modares University, Tehran, in 2017. He was a postdoctoral researcher at Tehran University from 2018 to 2019. He is currently the director of research at ISPA (Iranian Student Polling Agency). His current research interests include political modernity in Iran, developments of the Iranian political system and the patterns of public opinion in Iran. Michael Lavalette is professor of social work and social policy at Liverpool Hope University. He is the editor in chief of the journal Critical and Radical Social Work. Dawn Belkin Martinez is the co‐author of the book Social Justice in Clinical Practice. She is a clinical associate professor and associate dean of equity and inclusion at the Boston University School of Social Work where she coordinates the Racial Justice and Cultural Oppression sequence. A Liberation Health Framework for Social Work and a founding member of the Boston Liberation Health Group, which provides training and mentorship in Anti Oppressive Social Work Practice to over 2400 social workers across the country. Dawn is a nationally recognised expert on Anti Oppressive Social Work Practice and was recently appointed to the coordinating committee of the International Social Work Action Network. Carla Morales-Torres, BSW, is qualified social worker and master in social work, University of Chile. Shei s member of the Interdisciplinary Studies in Social Work Nucleus, University of Chile. She currently works in child protection services in Santiago de Chile and was a research assistant of the project FONDECYT REGULAR 1201685, ANID-Chilean government.

Contributors xi Christine Morley is professor of social work and head of the social work and human services discipline in the School of Public Health and Social Work and a chief investigator within the Centre for Justice at Queensland University of Technology. She is a passionate advocate of critical social work education and practice, having published extensively in this area. Gianinna Muñoz-Arce, BSW, MSW, Pontificia Universidad Católica de Chile, holds PhD in social work from University of Bristol, England. She is an associate professor at the Department of Social Work, Faculty of Social Sciences, University of Chile. She is editor-in-chief of the Critical Proposals in Social Work journal and coordinator of the Interdisciplinary Studies in Social Work Nucleus, University of Chile. She is primary researcher of the project FONDECYT REGULAR 1201685, ANID-Chilean government. Dimitra-Dora Teloni, PhD, MA is assistant professor, Department of Social Work, University of West Attica, Greece. Her research interests and publications include radical and anti-racist social work, social movements, poverty and social services. She participates in the antiracist and solidarity movement in Greece and she is also member of the Steering Commitee of International Social Work Action Network (SWAN) and Greek SWAN. Paz Valenzuela-Rebolledo, BSW and qualified social worker, University of Chile, is member of the Interdisciplinary Studies in Social Work Nucleus, University of Chile. Her work has been related to social research, qualitative methods and human rights. She is currently working with community organisations and feminist initiatives at the Municipality of Ñuñoa in Santiago de Chile.

1

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work Masoud Kamali

The capitalist and colonial origin and legacy of social work There are a lot of established ideas about the profession and professionalisation of social work in Western countries. However, the common perception of social work as a human profession that intends to help people who are in need of the intervention of the modern state is based more in selective imagination than it is in reality. Many social workers maintain a positive self-perception and, as a professional community, they generate narratives that link various aspects of the work their members perform with specific understandings of the common good, which has become a shared view of their work as benefitting society and perceiving themselves as moral individuals (Cohen and Dromi, 2018). Professionalisation of social work has been a governmental project of capitalist states, with the intention of reducing the individual consequences of the capitalist, marketised system that has destroyed many traditional bonds and social security systems of pre-capitalist socioeconomic formations. During the 1880s, German Chancellor Otto von Bismarck started to design a system of social insurance programmes for victims of industrial accidents, the sick, the elderly, the disabled and their dependents (Rimlinger, 1971; Scheubel, 2013). The system spread quickly to other European countries because it served both socialists and capitalists concerned with the problem of the free and uncontrolled market and its consequences for the survival of the capitalist system. This has temporarily solved the crisis of the disappearance of the social security systems of preindustrial societies – what Durkheim called ‘mechanical solidarity’ (1984), in which the old Gods (i.e. the Church and kings) were dead, while their replacement (i.e. the modern state) was not yet born. The history of modernity and the globalisation of capitalism is also a history of colonialism, war, violence and mass-killing (Lawrence, 1997, 1999; Joas, 2003; Kamali, 2006, 2015). The capitalist expansion and power of Western colonial powers could not have been possible without the brutal colonisation and exploitation of the lands, resources and labour force of ‘non-Westerners’. In other words, the prosperity of Western countries has been, and still is, dependent on the imperialist exploitation of other countries and people. In meeting this end, Western powers have made use of both hard and soft means of violence. DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-1

2 Masoud Kamali Religious institutions such as the Church, as well as the profession of social work, have been an integral part of the colonial and imperialist expansion of Western countries’ oppressive globalisation (Kamali, 2015). Consolidation of the social work profession was a necessary component of the settler-colonial project. With the rise of the modern police force in colonised countries, the establishment of their bureaucracy and the colonial legal apparatus, the social work profession was an important administrative instrument for the creation, expansion and adaptation of the settler state. As Fortier and HonSing Wong (2019, p. 438) argue in the case of England’s and France’s colonisation of Canada: The origins of social work in Canada were never solely a response to the harsh conditions of poverty faced by newcomers seeking to settle in the British and French colonies of North America. The initial responsibilities of social welfare provision and the paternalistic attempt to both Christianize and civilize as a condition for receiving such welfare can be traced to the authoritarian relationships imposed on Indigenous peoples by early traders and missionaries long before the mass migrations of white settler populations at the dawn of the long 19th century. European social workers who followed their colonial country to colonialised countries and areas were actively involved in combatting indigenous people’s cultures and ‘turning them into’ Europeans (Grande, 2004); this included the forced adaptation of indigenous children by white colonial families (Sinclair, 2009). Moreover, social work was not only engaged in realising the colonial project and the subjugation of indigenous and colonised people, but also was an instrument of domination for the capitalist class over working-class and poor people in their countries of origin. Social workers assisted in sending poor, white, working-class British children overseas to Australia, New Zealand and Canada (Bagnell, 2001), presenting them as orphans; many of these children were subsequently abused by colonisers (Bagnell, 2001). As Dominelli (2010) argues, social workers were, then, participants in European colonial settlement projects, by oppressing both poor people in their countries of origin and in colonised countries. However, the ‘colonial past’ remains present in much of the current education, research and practices of social work. As Maree (2020) argues, social work in the United States is highly influenced by the colonial discourses and practices of whiteness by which black and brown minorities are still discriminated against by white social workers. The same is true in many other countries, even in those unjustifiably known as having strong and universal welfare states, such as the Nordic countries (Kamali, 1997, 2006; Kamali and Jönsson, 2018). As Jennifer Ma (2020) in her analysis of the child welfare system in Canada shows, social work reproduces racial injustices by following and practising current discriminatory legislation and practices that harm both Aboriginal people and racialised migrants.

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 3 The main body of the profession of social work, as an established institution controlled by governments, has both a colonial and a capitalist history, since these modern transformations cannot be separated from each other. Social work has been engaged in the consolidation and globalisation of capitalism, both in its liberal and neoliberal formations. Social work is, therefore, not a homogenous profession for emancipation that aims at bringing about institutional and structural changes of the capitalist system. The major body of social work, as part of the global capitalist and imperialist system, assists in the reproduction of this system of oppression. As a profession of the liberal welfare state, it cannot be considered to be a revolutionary profession for combatting oppressions and generating equality for all people irrespective of class, gender, ethnicity, religion, place of birth and other differentiating categories. The changing demography of many Western countries as the result of the colonial past and the postcolonial present of the capitalist world order, which has created a ‘world system’ (Wallerstein, 1974), makes the historical injustices more visible. This is partly because the imperialist policies of the current postcolonial world have led to increasing conflicts, small wars and structural destruction in many non-Western countries, with extensive displacement and forced migration as a result. The entrance of a small group of displaced people from around the world (out of almost 90 million) to Western countries has been propagated by right-wing and racist parties as a reason for the retreat of liberal welfare states from their traditional duties in Western countries (Kamali, 2008, 2015). This is, however, a whitewashing of the liberal, capitalist and colonial origin of the welfare states. Liberal welfare states have been traditionally understood in terms of the centrality of the commodified status of labour power in Western countries as part of the organisation of market relations. In contrast, Bhambra and Holmwood (2018) show that commodification of labour has precisely existed, been constituted, through the enslavement of millions of people from European colonies. They argue that European colonialism played a central role in the development of welfare states, and their forms of inclusion and exclusion, based on the racialisation of different groups, continues into the 21st century. Arguing against those who present the failure of solidarity in liberal welfare states as being a result of increasing immigration, Bhambra and Holmwood (2018, p. 575) claim: In contrast, although we agree that there is a failure of solidarity, … it is one that has its origins in colonialism which organised access to politics and social rights on a hierarchical and racialised basis. This is not peculiar to the United States, describing its ‘exceptionalism’, rather they are integral to other welfares states and not simply on the basis of recent immigration. Specifically, in the 1970s … there is a failure to replace a pre-existing racialised domination with equality and this represents the continuing legacy of that racialisation. Therefore, social work as an integral part of liberal welfare states should be seen in the light of the colonial history of Western countries. The main body of

4 Masoud Kamali social work education, research and practices is highly influenced by colonialism and imperialism in the current, postcolonial world order.

The liberal welfare state and social work Social theorists and advocates of the welfare state in general, such as Marshall (1950) and Titmuss (1968), have argued that welfare state reforms should not only be limited to alleviating poverty, but should also be concerned with building a conflict-free society, citizenship and social solidarity. Such understandings of the organisation and development of the welfare state have also been taken up by advocates of the Nordic model of social democratic welfare states (Esping-Andersen, 1990). Some have even criticised the paternalistic functions of the welfare state, such as policies for ‘helping the poor’, and advocate a commitment to principles of social protection and to the achievement of long-lasting equity – something which can be hindered by limiting conceptions of welfare to those of ‘helping the poor’ in a paternalistic way (Korpi and Palme, 1998). Notwithstanding belief in the role of the welfare state in generating equality, the fact is that the liberal welfare state is mainly a legacy of the liberal capitalist societies in which welfare states and related welfare regimes (Esping-Andersen, 1990) were formed (i.e., to provide the minimum conditions of existence for those who have not benefitted from the marketisation and commodification of modern life). The welfare state has become the modern organisational form of administrating market-centred societies. Social policy and organisation of welfare states are modern states’ response to the disorganisation arising from market systems and ‘the answer’ to the ‘social question’. The influential British liberal, William Beveridge, believed that five ‘giant evils’ – i.e., Want, Disease, Ignorance, Squalor and Idleness – were the enemies of social progress (Breman et al., 2019). This then became a question for governments that were considering the ‘social question’, which gradually became the leitmotiv for the development of social policy and related laws and regulations in Europe over the 19th and 20th centuries – providing the minimum protection to the disabled, the old, the unemployed and those in need of health care. This generated ‘embedded liberalism’, which were the US-led global policies for the domination of the post-war world during the 1950s and 1960s (Harvey, 2005). Harvey (2005, p. 11) argues: In the advanced capitalist countries, redistributive politics (including some degree of political integration of working-class trade union power and support for collective bargaining), controls over the free mobility of capital (some degree of financial repression through capital controls in particular), expanded public expenditures and welfare state-building, active state interventions in the economy, and some degree of planning of development went hand in hand with relatively high rates of growth. The business cycle was successfully controlled through the application of Keynesian fiscal and

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 5 monetary policies. A social and moral economy (sometimes supported by a strong sense of national identity) was fostered through the activities of an interventionist state. The state in effect became a force field that internalized class relations. Such a liberal system aimed to restructure the forms of the nation state and its role in international relations, in order to prevent a return to the catastrophic conditions that had threatened the capitalist order prior to the Second World War. The new answer to the crisis of the capitalist system was the organisation of a liberal system based on a class compromise between capital and labour. This class compromise led to mutual cooperation between the market and the state, to minimise the risks of not only domestic class conflicts but also international wars and conflicts. This structural change of the role of the state was advocated already after the Second World War, by the social scientists Robert Dahl and Charles Lindblom in 1953, and a new world order through its related institutions (e.g. as the United Nations, the World Bank, the IMF, and the Ban of International Settlements in Basle) was created (Harvey, 2005). Notwithstanding many local differences, all capitalist countries adapted such an economic liberal system. While the United States and the UK can be placed to the extreme right of such a system (i.e. more market oriented), the Nordic countries’ socioeconomic system, known as social democracy, can be placed on the left wing of the liberal system (Kamali and Jönsson, 2018). Although Esping-Andersen (1990) has marked a distinction between liberal and social democratic welfare states, the colonial origin of the welfare state of those apparently different welfare regimes remains the same. Esping-Andersen refers to the United States, the UK, Australia, New Zealand and Canada models as the liberal welfare state and the Scandinavian models as social democratic welfare regimes. It is obvious that those considered liberal welfare states are all colonial settlers who established their rules based on colonialism and racism. However, this does not mean that the welfare states of the Nordic countries, such as Sweden, Denmark, Norway and Finland, do not include racialisation influenced by colonial discourses and imperialist cooperation in the organisation of their regimes – manifest in the inequalities in legal status, rights and opportunities for racialised and non-racialised groups in those countries inherent to such regimes (de los Reyes and Kamali, 2005; Kamali, 2008, 2015; Kamali and Jönsson, 2018). Citizenship and social rights are traditionally based on ‘ethnic nationhood’ and are not accessible for everybody (irrespective of their ethnicity, place of birth, religion etc.) (de los Reyes and Kamali, 2005). Although addressing class inequalities and declarations of goals to eliminate class differences in the social democratic party programmes of Nordic countries, such as Sweden, the prime aim of the welfare state has not been to eliminate class differences; rather, like other liberal welfare states, it has been to provide a pragmatic answer to the ‘social question’ and compensate for the unwanted consequences of increasing socioeconomic gaps, poverty and related social conflicts. Although there are many differences in the organisation of individual

6 Masoud Kamali manifestations of the liberal welfare state, in each case, its welfare programmes are based on notions of the individual’s welfare and her being gainfully employed. This policy in liberal countries, such as the United States and Canada, has been organised by the extensive transfer programmes modelled on the Negative Income Tax (NIT) or Guaranteed Income (GI) (Myles and Pierson, 1997), while in the Nordic social democratic countries, transfer programmes have been organised by proportional tax systems, universal allowances and social insurance systems that are mainly related to an individual’s employment. This has been mainly influenced by governments’ ambitions for creating full employment – which, of course, includes a racialised hierarchy in the labour market and the welfare states of those countries. This has greatly influenced the research, education and practices of social work (Kamali, 1997, 2008, 2015; Eliassi, 2013; Jönsson, 2019; Kamali and Jönsson, 2019). The professionalisation of social work, and the establishment of social work education and research institutes alongside governmentally supported practices, was an integral part of the organisation of liberal societies in the decades after the Second World War. As mentioned above, such a liberal system required a relatively strong social policy to answer the ‘social question’ and reduce socioeconomic conflicts. Until the 1970s, there were barely any strong political voices to put such policy and the interventionalist state in general under question. The state’s intervention in the market was considered necessary for the surveillance of the market-based economy. This has greatly influenced the organisation of social work in many countries, with social workers part of a ‘social engineering’ programme launched by the interventionist liberal state in order to discipline poor and needy people to become ‘good citizens’ adjusted to the capitalist market. Nation states are influential institutions that play a central role in legitimising the existing structures and related institutions of societies. The social work profession, as a part of the liberal welfare state, is, in its main body, a necessary institution for compensating some of the negative consequences of the market economy. This is partly because the modern liberal state possesses means of governance other than the traditional absolutist state. In contrast to the absolutist state, the modern sovereign state uses technologies of dominance in order to render its exercise of power legitimate. The absolutist state was a paradoxical construct, since it was, at once, the cause and effect of its own foundation and was dependent on its own capacities for exercising power (Bartelson, 1995). Control of its subjects was purely external, and its subjects were governed through established hierarchies derived from the state and based on an ‘up-down’ system of governance, exercising power through blatant macromechanisms of military power and status hierarchies (Kamali, 2015). Conversely, the modern liberal and sovereign state uses modern techniques of governance in order to legitimise and rationalise both its domination and the existing market economy as necessary for serving individuals and societies. The mechanisms of domination through ‘soft means’ – what is called ‘governmentality’ by Michael Foucault (2007) – is of great importance for the

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 7 reproduction of the entire system of domination. There are many institutions engaged in making governmentality possible. The educational, juridical, political systems and the mass media are, through interconnected strategies and functions, engaged in ‘disciplining’ individuals to accept the ‘rational order of society’ and thus the structures of the exercise of power and domination (Kamali, 2015). Disciplination of subjects of the liberal state takes place through ‘those micromechanisms of power whereby individuals are moulded to serve the needs of power’ (Ransom, 1997, p. 59). Philosopher Michel Foucault calls this function of the modern liberal state ‘the art of government’, which governmentalises individuals and makes them internalise the will of government. In other words, the aim of governmentality is for the rationality of the government and the market to emerge and prevail as the only possible form of rational thinking – that is, for individuals to ultimately think in line with the government. Foucault’s concept of ‘governmentality’ is a theoretical tool for the ‘genealogy of the state’, which links the techniques of the government or governing (gouverner) to modes of thought (mentalité). He argues that it is impossible to study technologies of power without studying the governing techniques that create a rational mentality, one that underpins the reproduction of the established modes of exercising political power (Foucault, 2007). The liberal state, thus, is an organisation for both ‘governing others’ and ‘governing self’. In other words, the modern sovereign state and the modern autonomous individual make each other’s emergence possible (Foucault, 1982, p. 220–1; Lemke, 2002). With some exceptions, the main body of social work education, organisation and practices are, therefore, part of the governmentalisation and consolidation of the existing liberal market economy and its political institution, i.e., the liberal state. The social work profession, as an integral part of the liberal welfare state, has been an institution for serving the purposes of the governmentalisation of the liberal state. Notwithstanding many critical influences in social work education and research, it has remained an instrument for the disciplination of the poor and needy in order to make them, as mentioned before, ‘good citizens’, i.e., adding them to the labour force of the liberal market. The structural and organisational properties of the liberal welfare state make it impossible to turn the entire profession of social work into a radical force for social change aimed at changing the system of capitalist exploitation. The desires and endeavours of many critical scholars and educators for reinforcing the solidarity aspects of the social work profession, and to increase the welfare of people in order to reduce and even eliminate class differences in the liberal welfare states, seem to be more illusion and ideological imagination than a real possibility. Indeed, contrary to such illusions, even liberal welfare states have come under severe attack from neoliberal ideologists, who believe that the cost of the welfare state is too high and that governments should change their role from being a ‘Nanny state’ (in Margaret Thatcher’s words) to a government overtly forcing people to work in the market. The prime role of the neoliberal state is, then, to protect and guarantee the sovereignty and freedom of the market. Even those countries

8 Masoud Kamali which were placed on the left axel of the liberal welfare state, i.e., the Nordic countries, have, since the 1990s, been drawn into an aggressive neoliberalisation of their societies and the destruction of their welfare states (Kamali and Jönsson, 2018).

Neoliberalism and the neoliberal welfare state The shortcomings of Keynesian economic theory – a theory that was the basis for the liberal system with different welfare regimes – and its failure to explain and respond to the simultaneous rise in both unemployment and inflation, which resulted in the crisis of the mid-1970s, put economic policies of the time and the structures of welfare states under serious ideological and theoretical attack by advocates of neoliberal macroeconomic theory. This has since led to a paradigmatic shift, from Keynesianism to monetarism (Hall, 1993). The advocates of neoliberalism have propagated for less social expenditure given that the latter no longer plays a central role in ensuring economic growth. The welfare state and related social expenditures are presented as a cost rather than a stimulator of economic growth or a promoter of political and social stability (Morel et al., 2012). Neoliberal ideologists and neoclassical economists claim that increasing unemployment and low growth are the consequences of labour market barriers created by the intervention of the state in the market (Kamali and Jönsson, 2018). It is argued that the welfare state, as an institution of the state’s intervention in the free market, has reduced individuals’ willingness to work. According to neoliberal ideologists and economists, interventions, such as strong job protection, high minimum wages and generous unemployment insurance are obstacles to rapid economic growth. As with all other structural changes in society, the political system and ideologists have played a central role in the establishment and globalisation of neoliberalism. Neoliberalism, helped by moral conservatism, has constructed a very strong anti-welfare ideology, which triumphed throughout the 1980s and early 1990s under the governments of Margaret Thatcher (in the UK) and Ronald Reagan (in the United States). The ideology and political project of neoliberalism has been properly defined by Reagan, who claimed: ‘Government is not the solution to our problems; the government is the problem’. As mentioned earlier, the government’s intervention in the market and its welfare state was considered by the mother of political neoliberalism, i.e., Thatcher, as leading to the creation of a ‘Nanny state’ that pacifies individuals. Among the enduring changes enacted during the last four decades have been: the reinforcement and liberalisation of the financial markets, profoundly reducing state control over the market; the privatisation of all commercial state properties; major tax reforms in the rich’s favour; the substantial reduction of welfare services to the needy; the privatisation of a compulsory education system; and establishing New Public Management in public sector organisations and institutions. Such substantial changes have not only been launched by neoliberal and right-wing parties but have also been accepted, and even enacted, by social democratic parties (Motta and Bailey, 2007; Kamali and

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 9 Jönsson, 2018). Indeed, many social democratic parties, including the powerful Nordic social democratic parties, which traditionally supported the liberal welfare state have changed their ideological and political orientations and adopted neoliberalism, which is ideologically and politically hostile to any form of welfare state (Kamali and Jönsson, 2018). As Langman and Smith (2018) argue, political parties, regardless of their ideologies or identification, are committed to the growth imperative of global capitalism and, as a result, most political leaders are either themselves members of the transnational capitalist class or help that class through various forms of political contributions, investments and technical and economic expertise. In other words, the political elite and parties have become the direct representative and service provider for the global, neoliberal, capitalist class. The colonisation of nation states by the neoliberal capitalist class in Western countries has led to severe attacks on any form of the welfare state. The policies and institutions of the welfare state have been remade to serve the workfare state, committed to providing the neoliberal economic elites and the neoliberal market with their labour force. As Loïc Wacquant (2012b, p. 197, original emphases) argues: In Punishing the Poor, I show that the ascent of the penal state in the United States and other advanced societies over the past quarter-century is a response to rising social insecurity, not criminal insecurity; that changes in welfare and justice policies are interlinked, as restrictive ‘workfare’ and expansive ‘prisonfare’ are coupled into a single organizational contraption to discipline the precarious fractions of the postindustrial working class; and that a diligent carceral system is not a deviation from, but a constituent component of, the neoliberal Leviathan. In neoliberal countries and systems, individuals are taken as being wholly responsible for their own success or the lack thereof. Capitalist and neoliberal structural and institutional arrangements are seen as almost natural and the most ‘proper’ systems for organising a society. The retreat of the welfare state, as a result of the neoliberal reorganisation of society and rising social insecurity, has led to increasing conflicts between many needy groups in Western countries and has fostered a kind of welfare nationalism influenced by racist ideologies. Welfare nationalism has led to the political and electoral success of racist parties, which, in turn, reinforces inequalities and conflicts based on belonging and ethnicity. Even racist and colonial discourses have been whitewashed and become politically acceptable (Kamali, 2008). However, as a result of a dramatic reduction in the control of nation states over the national and international market, neoliberal globalisation has created huge amounts of wealth (which flows into the sometimes secret bank accounts of a handful of elites), while the income of masses of workers around the world is declining, many face chronic underemployment, unemployment or the unstable living conditions (Standing, 2011). Neoliberal globalisation has created a

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powerful transnational capitalist class of elites supported by a world economy governed by transnational regulatory agencies, such as, as mentioned earlier, the World Bank, International Monetary Fund (IMF) and World Trade Organization (WTO). As Langman and Smith (2018, p. 6) discuss: In many poor countries it is clear that the overwhelming power of global capital undermines any semblance of popular democracy that might act as an expression of resistance or act like a countervailing force. So, throughout the poverty-stricken underdeveloped world we see various forms of ‘structural adjustment’ offered (often under the aegis of the IMF and World Bank) that require ‘belt tightening’ that involves currency devaluation, public spending retrenchment necessitating massive cuts to benefits and public programs (including those supporting mass education, health, subsidies for basic subsistence), privatization of basic services such as sanitation, waste removal and water supplies, etc. All this leads to burgeoning inequality and increasing hardships faced by growing numbers of people in our contemporary world. The neoliberal world order is defended, militarily, politically and culturally, by a cluster of powerful governments and actors, who can, whenever they want, make use of military force and other oppressive forms of ‘hard’ and ‘soft’ actions to eliminate any opposition (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019). As Rosa Luxemburg has argued (already, in 1913, correcting Marx’s Eurocentric perspective), Western capitalist states’ military machinery enables and facilitates their global imperialist expansion (Luxemburg, 2003). This has led to increasing socioeconomic gaps between those who ‘have’ and those who ‘have not’ and to the global expansion of poverty, which, in turn, has resulted in increasing wars, conflicts and political unrest (Kamali, 2015). Although there are no longer ‘big wars’, there are many ‘small wars’; these wars are killing in greater numbers and destroying the lives and living conditions of non-Western people to a greater extent than any earlier ‘big war’ in human history (Kamali, 2015).

The warfare state and social policy The policies of the ‘war on terror’, which emerged in the wake of the terrorist attacks on the World Trade Centre and Pentagon in 2001 (in the midst of the neoliberalisation of the world), has helped to create a warfare state engaged in war against an unseen and hidden enemy labelled as ‘terror’ and ‘terrorism’. Launching extensive securitisation programmes in the context of Western countries and their global allies has come to reinforce the policy of the presence of war by all means, as George Orwell describes in his classic book, 1984. Neoliberal states have framed any discourses of the welfare state as amounting to old socialist propaganda and as posing a threat to the final victory of the market over the welfare state – and the declared ‘End of History’ in the time of ‘The Last Man’ (Fukuyama, 1993).

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 11 However, the neoliberal state is not a weak state. It is a dual state, constituted of a weak welfare state and a very strong securitising and militarised state. In the early 1970s, a group of liberals (most famously Friedrich von Hayek), understanding the problems of the uncontrolled, laissez-faire market as posing a threat to the stability of the entire capitalist system, advocated a new kind of state, which they referred to as ‘the minimal state’. According to them, the minimal state would protect the capitalist and ‘free market’, while the strong state should protect the market against any threat, including that presented by the state’s own intervention in the market. This repressive strong state is a necessary organisation for creating political and social order in order to ensure the functioning of the market. The global triumph of neoliberalism is based mainly on the way in which it structures both the wider global and local policy environments and presents itself as the only possible and legitimate option in the world (Kamali, 2015). As McCarthy and Prudham (2004, p. 276) say, ‘the hegemony of neoliberalism is made most evident by the ways in which profoundly political and ideological projects have successfully masqueraded as a set of objectives, natural, and technocratic truisms’. In many cases, neoliberal ideology has succeeded in depoliticising the consequences of neoliberal globalisation, making its problems appear to be the result of individual choices and practices. Therefore, neoliberal restructuring of markets, societies and politics has not happened as a natural result of the development of the capitalist system, but, rather, is the outcome of intentional strategies formed by major market actors in order to influence political decision-making in the direction of minimising governance, creating ‘small states’ and maximising their benefits and wealth. As Frances Fox Piven (2015) puts it, depicting international markets as self-regulating is to naturalise, to put beyond the reach of politics, what is, in fact, a change in politics. Neoliberal elites have succeeded in colonising the political system, with the states and governments now the armed forces of the global market. Fox Piven (2015, p. 6) argues: The extraordinary concentration of national income and wealth at the top has also produced a surplus of money and some of that money is being poured into politics. It is saturating electoral representative politics. One of the ways we see this is in the growth in the lobbying industry. It is a massive expansion. From 1968 to 1978 alone, the number of lobbyists in Washington increased fivefold. Big corporations always had public relation offices and vice presidents in charge of public relations. But beginning about 1970, they began to move their so-called public relations operations to Washington in order to influence the national government more effectively. These corporations not only moved to Washington themselves, but they also created new peak organizations of corporations to hone their capacity to create propaganda and to influence government. They did not only target the national government but also state and local governments as well.

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This has reduced dramatically the possibilities for change to the system through democratic debates and means. As mentioned earlier, it is not only in liberal countries such as the US and the UK where lobbyist organisations and institutions have been growing and influencing political decision-makings. In Nordic countries too, such as Sweden, Denmark and Norway, known for their developed welfare states, neoliberal lobbyists and organisations have succeeded over the past three decades in transforming the state into a web of neoliberal governance (Kamali and Jönsson, 2018), including the reinforcement of the ‘strong state’ through membership and cooperation with the military alliance NATO and participation in Western countries’ imperialist wars and occupations around the world. The policies of ‘war on terror’ have been used to legitimise the retreat of the welfare state and the reinforcement of repressive means of governance as necessary for the security of citizens. Increasing wealth and living gaps between socioeconomic classes in Western countries, resulting from an intense and rapid neoliberalisation, has led to growing marginalisation of racialised groups and the electoral success of racist parties. The state has been transformed from a welfare state, responsible for citizens’ minimum standard of social security, to a securitising state in which social problems have been presented as individual or cultural problems. Socioeconomic marginalisation is often presented as the result of either individual choices or of cultural and religious differences and the influences of international terrorism (Kamali, 2015).

Neoliberal governmentalisation and symbolic violence The strong liberal state cannot, however, rely only on its repressive ‘hard means’ (i.e. its monopoly over legitimate violence, in Weber’s words), but should also achieve a reign over ‘people’s minds’, by using ‘soft means’ of governance. These soft means of governance are used to convince the subjects of government that the political exercise of power is necessary for their well-being and security. Foucault argued in this vein that what makes these states truly neoliberal is their use of the market to govern, which is about distributing services and benefits according to the market logic of efficiency, competitiveness and profitability. According to Foucault (2008), neoliberalism is about taking the formal principles of a market economy and relating them to a general ‘art of government’. This happens through a system of governmentality, through which individuals accept the legitimacy of the system as necessary. In other words, neoliberalism is largely legitimised as the only possible system of organising economy, politics and culture. As Wacquant (2012a) argues, neoliberalism is a political project for reorganising and reengineering the state, with acceptance of marketisation and commodification as the core of such a reorganisation policy. This, however, could not be possible without a process of governmentalisation, which is governments’ ability to reign by ‘soft means’ in combination with its monopoly over ‘hard means’. Governmentalisation is a process of exercising political power which links the forms of power which are used by ‘those who govern’, and the processes and

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 13 technologies of subjectification of ‘the governed’ (Kamali, 2015). The state’s monopoly over modern education and the mass media, which is exercised in alliance with the market elite, provides the state with the ‘soft means’ of the exercise of power. For example, the global domination of neoliberalism, as Hursh and Henderson (2011) argue, depends, in part, on the fact that the power elite who benefit from neoliberal policies have gained control over both public debate and policymaking in order to create a ‘good business climate’. This makes it possible for these neoliberal elites to marginalise alternative discourses and conceptions. The governmentalisation process makes it possible for those who govern to convince ‘the governed’ to both build and bear their own cross on their way to Golgotha. In other words, ‘the governed’ are an integrated part of the reproduction and reinforcement of neoliberal governmentalisation. In contrast to the absolutist state, which exercised power through manifest macromechanisms of military power and status hierarchies, the modern sovereign state masks its exercise of power as comprising legitimised and rational actions that serve individuals and societies. This happens through disciplining individuals to believe in the social order of things as natural. Governmentalisation includes mechanisms of what Pierre Bourdieu calls ‘symbolic violence’, exercised by privileged groups based on their symbolic capital – a capital that aims to obscure the real economic capital of economic powerful groups. Symbolic violence is exercised by ‘soft means’ and, as such, is not even recognised as constituting violence. It concerns the imposition of systems of symbolism and meanings by privileged groups or classes upon lessprivileged groups or classes, in such a way that they are experienced as legitimate (Kamali, 2015). This legitimacy obscures the power relations that permit this imposition to be successful, and adds its own force to these power relations, contributing to their systematic reproduction (Jenkins, 1992). Therefore, the exercise of symbolic violence is much more effective and necessary in the reproduction of power hierarchies and domination in society than the exercise of direct physical violence. Symbolic violence takes place through an ongoing and sophisticated process of ‘rewards and punishment’, by which those who do not obey the system of privileges and domination will be punished and those who comply to the existing power structure in society are rewarded. Exercising symbolic violence is necessary for the reproduction of powerful groups’ domination of society. Domination, as Weber (1984, p. 2012) argues, does not include every mode of exercising power or influence over other person. Domination (authority) in this sense may be based on the most diverse motives of compliance; all the way from simple habituation to the most purely rational calculation of advantage. He concludes that ‘every genuine form of domination implies a minimum of voluntary compliance’ based on ‘an interest’ in obedience. This minimum of voluntary compliance to powerful political and economic groups in society is

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guaranteed by the exercise of symbolic violence, which also make domination and obedience a normal state of affairs in modern life. This is what Foucault (2003) calls ‘the governance of the self’, exercised in order to make an individual an ethical subject. The ‘voluntary compliance’ of the majority of people to being dominated is a modern phenomenon and mindset, which is an integrated part of what Marx (1932) calls ideology and what Luká cs (1967) – inspired by Engels – calls ‘false consciousness’ among the modern working people. According to the theory of ideological hegemony and false consciousness, members of the lower class possess representations of reality that obscure their own subordination, exploitation and domination. Such representations reflect the internalisation of beliefs held and disseminated by, and to the benefit of, the dominant classes in society (Newman et al., 2015). Belief in ideas that promote the interests of the dominant class consequently legitimise and reproduce the social and economic benefits of those classes, and generate inequality and material deprivation for the lower class (Schumaker et al., 1996). Antonio Gramsci (1971) sees obedience to the dominant groups in society as the result of the ideological hegemony of the dominating groups, which constructs ‘common sense’ in society. Gramsci (1971, p. 419) argues that the established common sense has become ‘the philosophy of non-philosophers, the conceptualisation of the world that is uncritically absorbed’. The theory of ‘symbolic violence’ can be understood as further development of Gramsci’s theoretical concepts of ‘common sense’ and ‘hegemony’. The practices of symbolic violence by dominant groups in society show, as mentioned earlier, the everyday practices of ‘reward and punishment’, which reproduces common sense and obedience among ‘non-philosophers’. Reinforcement of mechanisms of symbolic violence, combined with monopoly over the exercise of legitimised physical power by nation states, influence all aspects of social life – including the governmental organisation of the liberal welfare state and related health care and social work. As previously described, the ultimate will of the state and its neoliberal allies is to force people to internalise the imagination of the neoliberal system as ‘a natural system’ and as ‘the only alternative’. Notwithstanding the global domination of neoliberalism, the mechanisms of governmentalisation are changing. Although those who comply with the existing neoliberal order and its marketised system used to be frequently rewarded, and some of them still are, the increasing crisis of neoliberalism forces the neoliberal order into a defensive position, with growing physical and symbolic violence against those who protest and resist the order. The ‘war on terror’ and its related securitisation policies are frequently used to punish resistance. It seems that punishment is more frequent than reward in exercising symbolic violence by neoliberal governments. Such a change can influence the consent to power, i.e., individuals’ voluntary obedience to the established system of neoliberal governance. This change is even more severe among racialised groups. Empirical studies show that ideological hegemony of the dominant classes and the ‘false consciousness’ of lower classes are weaker among racialised groups,

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 15 who are discriminated against by the white majority on multiple grounds (Newman et al., 2015). The politics of the ‘war on terror’ and securitisation, as an integrated part of neoliberal governmentalisation, harm racialised groups more than any other groups (Kamali, 2021). Racialised groups not only are discriminated against in Western countries but also suffer from the politics of the ‘war on terror’, through Western countries’ increasing support for dictatorial and brutal regimes in non-Western countries. This group is reigned by fear more than it is reigned by consent.

Securitising neoliberal state and social work As mentioned earlier, neoliberalisation does not necessarily lead to a smaller or weaker or less active state. On the contrary, the neoliberal state is often quite active (Dean, 2014; Hall, 1988; Kamali and Jönsson, 2018). According to Wacquant (2012a, p. 68), the neoliberal state ‘actively fabricates the subjectivities, social relations and collective representations suited to making the fiction of markets real and consequential’. Therefore, social work in neoliberal states is used to create such subjectivity among citizens. The neoliberal state’s intervention in the lives of people in general, and those who are perceived as having little market value in particular, aims to make such citizens valuable by the standards of the market (Jensen, 2019). As mentioned earlier, social work history, research, education and practices have shown that the main body of social work is not a neutral profession aimed at helping needy people. Despite many social workers’ individual ambitions and will for helping needy people, the main body of social work is actively involved in the reproduction of the capitalist and neoliberal system. Although critical literature is included in some curricula of social work, the majority of research, education and practices of social work are still greatly influenced by colonial capitalist discourses through which the main responsibility of people’s social problems is put on individuals, their ‘race’, culture and choices (Kamali, 2015; Jönsson 2013). The endeavours of critical researchers, educators and social workers to (re)make social work as a radical professional aimed at changing the structural and institutional arrangements of capitalist society, as the main mechanisms behind individuals’ social problems, have failed. During the past few decades of increasing neoliberal globalisation, social work has even been forced to move away from its minor progress in fighting against structural and institutional inequalities and injustices. The profession of social work is increasingly compelled by nation states and related international organs to become the trusted partner of neoliberal governments, in administration of the individual consequences of the capitalist market. Policies of the ‘war on terror’ have, during the past two decades, created a security mindset and administrative practices targeting poor and marginalised groups in general and people with migrant and Muslim backgrounds in particular. Many marginalised groups are categorised as ‘troubled families’ and have become subjected to counter-terrorism policies (Kamali, 2015; McKendrick and Finch,

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2017a, 2017b). Such securitising policies have created a ‘non-linear war’ – or ‘frontless wars’ – against the marginalised poor, in which the profession of social work, and its education and practices, plays a central role (Kamali, 2015). A comparative study of social work practices in Sweden and the UK shows the consequences of such policies for social work education and practices in those countries (Finch et al., 2019). The researchers (2019, p. 1) conclude: Social Work in Europe is now being tasked with managing the ‘problems’ of terrorism, i.e supporting those affected by terrorist attacks, managing returnees affiliated with Terrorist groups in the Middle East, or, as will be discussed here, identifying those at risk from radicalisation and extremism. Both Britain and Sweden have Counter-Terrorism policies, but recent developments in both countries have made it a statutory requirement for social workers to work within such policies … The results indicate that anti-radicalisation policies run the risk of reducing social work to become a ‘policing profession’ practising social control. This has substantial consequences for social work and its global ethics, which should be considered and struggled against by social workers committed to principles of social justice and human rights. Social workers are now asked to report ‘deviant behaviours’, or behaviours that can be considered as a sign of radicalisation, to the police and other authorities. Demonisation of marginalised groups and those considered as belonging to ‘the others’ is taking place on a daily basis, and the social work profession seems to be increasingly governmentalised and to uncritically follow governments’ securitisation policies. As with many other professions, and even civil subjects, in a society obsessed by securitising policies and ideologies, social work is increasingly becoming a profession ultimately concerned with securitising the neoliberal system. Many professions and civil groups have drowned in such a dominant securitisation policy, in a time when securitisation is normalised and has become everyday political, administrative and even citizen practice (Schuilenburg, 2015).

Punishing resistance As mentioned earlier, the process of creating individuals who ‘govern the self’, in Foucault’s words, in order to comply with the neoliberal order in society is now more recognisable in terms of the ‘punishment’ mechanisms of symbolic violence rather than by those of reward. A recent study on neoliberal securitisation policies in one of the most developed welfare states, Sweden (characterised by its solidary social policies), shows that many racialised groups who are not as governmentalised as the ‘white majority’ are subjected to brutal symbolic punishments with serious individual consequences (Kamali, 2021). The study examines the consequences of the neoliberalisation of Swedish society for those individuals who are openly critical of such developments – that is, critical political party members,

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 17 journalists, academics and civil society activists. The results show that those who chose to resist growing inequalities and racism in Swedish established parties, mass media organisations, academia and civil society are subjected to exclusionary treatments and symbolic violence by their organisational superiors (the party leadership, owners and chiefs of mass media, administration and those in power in academia, and municipal and governmental institutions responsible for funding civil society organisations, respectively). An established democratic way of exercising symbolic violence against those who do not accept being governmentalised is the use of mass media. Many who exercise resistance say that they have been, or still are, subjected to media bulling by those in power. Although media bullying of those who do not comply with neoliberal politics and governmentalisation (particularly critical actors belonging to racialised groups) is presented as ‘a democratic and free’ examination of their activities and ideas, it does, in fact, serve to provide examples of an established alliance between different institutions in the exercise of symbolic violence. Some critical actors compare the current situation to a public inquisition of their political ideologies and beliefs in social justice. Symbolic violence against this group does not stop at forcing them to quit their political positions or with them losing their jobs; the public stigmatisation of these individuals makes it very difficult to get a new position or job. Moreover, it is not only such individuals who are subjected to symbolic violence but also their families (Kamali, 2021). This is a result of a neoliberal governance, which Wacquant (2012a, p. 66) calls a system of the ‘articulation of state, market and citizenship that harnesses the first to impose the stamp of the second onto the third’. Punishing resistance is a global phenomenon under neoliberal conditions. Wacquant (2009) argues – in respect of the United States but applicable to all other neoliberal countries too – that the retreat of social policy, which has been in decline since the 1960s, and the reinforcement of penal policy, which has been in progress since then, are two integrated sides of the same policy, i.e., the management of poverty. This means that the retreat of the welfare state has been coupled with increasing ‘prison fare’, in Wacquant’s words, resulting in increasing violations of individual rights, including the right to resist neoliberal policies. Recent developments in many countries are proving this claim. González-Sánchez and Maroto-Calatayud (2018) show that the repression of anti-austerity protests in Spain, from 2011 to 2014, was an integrated part in facilitating neoliberal development in that country. They argue that the Spanish penal system limits political resistance to the imposition of precarious working conditions and social cuts. The repression of political resistance to neoliberal domination is taking place by means of two methods: the ‘material (consisting of banning acts that are prominent in social movement’s repertoire of contention, fining demonstrators, etc.) and symbolic (consisting of transforming the meaning of legitimate politics by imposing new legal and political definitions)’ (ibid, 2018, p. 443). Given the fact that neoliberal capitalism is a global system, an increase in policies that punish is not limited to the socioeconomic and political system of

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Western neoliberal countries. The postcolonial world order – which is also called ‘racial capitalism’ as a theoretical framework, to explain the mutually constitutive nature of racialisation and capitalist exploitation first discussed by Cedric Robinson in 1983 – has globalised, punishing resistance to neoliberalism wherever it occurs. Robinson criticises the Western Marxist analysis of capitalism, isolated from its colonial and racialisation past and present. Robinson (1983, p. 2) argues: It is still fair to say that at base, that is at its epistemological substratum, Marxism is a Western construction – a conceptualization of human affairs and historical development that is emergent from the historical experiences of European peoples mediated, in turn, through their civilization, their social orders, and their cultures. Certainly its philosophical origins are indisputably Western. But the same must be said of its analytical presumptions, its historical perspectives, its points of view. Capitalism and imperialism cannot, thus, be understood or be analysed without examining its racial and racialisation history. According to Robinson, racialisation engaged in capitalist expansion has its roots in European feudal societies, which were transformed and reinforced by capitalist expansion. Robinson (1983, p. 2) argues that ‘in contradistinction to Marx’s and Engels’s expectations that bourgeois society would rationalize social relations and demystify social consciousness, the obverse occurred’. He uses the term ‘racial capitalism’ to refer to this development, meaning that ‘the development, organization, and expansion of capitalist society pursued essentially racial directions, so too did social ideology. As a material force, then, it could be expected that racialism would inevitably permeate the social structures emergent from capitalism’. The capitalist world order, in its current shape of a global neoliberalism led by Western countries, has institutionalised a system of global punishment of resistance in order to secure the reproduction of its privileges. Large and ‘small’ wars have been frequently used in order to secure the function of a global neoliberal market that guarantees the supremacy of (white) Western countries. The wars in Afghanistan, Iraq, Libya and Syria are recent illustrations of those devastating wars that have been imposed on many racialised people in nonWestern countries because of the needs and imperatives of the global neoliberal market and its political representatives (Kamali, 2015). It should be mentioned, however, that global neoliberalism makes use of not only wars and violence but also the threat of war and intervention in other countries, if such countries do not comply with the needs of imperialist countries and policies. Values such as democracy and human rights are accepted and propagated so far as they serve the imperialist needs of Western countries. Many democracies have been demolished, and democratically elected leaders killed, by imperialist countries’ (direct and indirect) intervention and efforts at regime change in countries considered to be ‘non-friendly’ to the global neoliberal system. In precisely, the same fashion in which they punish resistance in Western countries, imperialist

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 19 neoliberal countries use both physical and symbolic violence in achieving their goals. The ‘soft means’ of violence, i.e., symbolic violence, includes cultural racism and the demonisation of contentious countries. The media propaganda and demonisation of Iraq prior to the war on Iraq is a proper illustration of the preparation of public opinion for the invasion of that country (Kamali, 2015). The punishment of resistance to the neoliberal world order and its national consequences harms many groups and individuals who do not share the neoliberal ideology and who resist the destruction of people’s welfare and lives. No matter in which country and profession and in respect of what activities those who resist the neoliberal world order are involved, it is embarking on a covert – and, in many cases, overt – war against resistance. Since many neoliberal lies about the positive effects of neoliberalism for the prosperity of people are disseminated in the face of growing socioeconomic gaps within and between countries, as well as the destruction of many peoples’ living conditions, neoliberal racial capitalism is becoming increasingly oppressive, aggressive and intolerant of critical perspectives and ideas. Not only have the living conditions of many people deteriorated but, also, the democratic system has become the ‘soft means’ of oppression. The current neoliberal elites are engaged in ‘democratic games’ in order to legitimise their privileges and serve the neoliberal global system. Democracy is accepted as long as it serves the neoliberal ideology and socioeconomic system; otherwise – if, for instance, a country uses democracy to elect political leaders who do not believe in neoliberalism – the ‘hard means’ of global neoliberal governance (i.e., military force) will be used to overthrow such governments (see for instance, Kamali, 2015; Kinzer, 2006).

The crisis of neoliberalism and revolutionary social work Critical thinking in social work, which had made some progress in helping to shape the profession and its education and research output, has been under severe attack, at least since 1980, as a result of aggressive neoliberalisation of societies around the world. The neoliberal system, which first was established in Chile under the dictatorship of the government of Augusto Pinochet, who replaced the democratic elected president, Salvador Allende, by the brutal USorganised military coup in 1973, was gradually imposed on all other countries around the world. This neoliberal global system has destroyed even minor progress made in fighting poverty and inequalities after the Second World War and the development of different welfare regimes. Neoliberal reforms, which were introduced to solve the liberal capitalist economic crisis of the 1970s, were first discussed by the economist John Williamson. Williamson (1990, 1993) showed that the Washington political and economic elites had decided to launch neoliberal policies, which he called ‘the Washington consensus’. These reforms, which are sometimes called the ‘amendments’ of neoliberalism, were as follows: fiscal discipline; reduction in public expenditure; tax reform; financial liberalisation; market-determined exchange rates; trade liberalisation; opening doors to foreign direct investment;

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privatisation of public service and state-owned enterprises; deregulation; and securing and reinforcing property rights. The crisis of the world economy, environmental disasters, increasing socioeconomic gaps, wars, conflicts and political instabilities are, however, proving the bankruptcy of neoliberal reforms and policies. Neoliberalism has exhausted its claims of being an alternative to the welfare state for providing prosperity, peace and stability to the world. Moreover, not only has it failed to solve the problems of the liberal (welfare) states, but it has also added many new problems to the global system of racial capitalism. Increasing socioeconomic gaps in and between countries, wars, violence, oppressions and instability are among the ‘merits’ of neoliberalism. The economic crisis of 2008 and the slowdown of the new marked economies of the former Soviet states, along with the increasing socioeconomic gaps, environmental crisis, wars, global conflicts and increasing popular anti-austerity movements, have encouraged many scholars to start talking about alternatives to neoliberalism – something that had been marginalised, at least since the 1980s. Even the very concept of ‘development’ has been put under question, and new literatures and debates against neoliberal claims and socioeconomic reforms have emerged, advocating the need for moving beyond neoliberal capitalism (Jönsson, 2010; Jönsson and Kamali, 2012; Kamali, 2015; Pradella and Marois, 2013). There are, however, many who, notwithstanding their holding critical standpoints on some aspects of neoliberalism, still advocate new developmental or neo-Keynesian policies and programmes (Patomäki, 2012). This group has still a deep commitment to capitalism and the subordination of workers to the needs of growth and accumulation (Pradella and Marois, 2013). The ongoing crisis of neoliberalism is the inevitable result of the fundamental contradictions of capitalism, but no longer leaves any room for reform. As mentioned earlier, neoliberalism has exhausted its possibilities for ‘growth and development’, and, if it continues in the same manner, it is going to destroy our planet and all lives on it. The consequences of neoliberal policies for the discipline of social work have been broadly studied and discussed (Lorenz, 2005; Ferguson, 2008; Ferguson and Lavalette, 2004; Lavalette et al., 2020; Garrett, 2009; Kamali, 2008; Kamali and Jönsson, 2018, 2019; among others). Layard (2005) discusses the paradox of the neoliberal society, using the United States as an illustration. He argues that although the increase in average income per capital has been fourfold, simultaneously the cases of depression, alcoholism and delinquency rates have been rising. The recent coronavirus crisis is also seen to be an aspect of the crisis of neoliberalism and its reorganisation of the welfare state (Condon, 2021; Lavalette et al., 2020), which also directly influences social work practices. The establishment of neoliberalism as ‘the only alternative’ has not only reduced the possibilities for being able to help the most destitute in society and created insecure employment conditions for social workers (Harvey, 2005; Garrett, 2010). It also has constructed a system of surveillance – in respect of both social workers and those in need of social work intervention (Kamali, 2015; Kamali and Jönsson, 2018; Kamali, 2021). Under such a system, social workers are

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 21 increasingly transformed into administrative controllers instead of agents for helping improve impoverished peoples’ living conditions and for changing oppressive institutions. In the neoliberal era, when socioeconomic status is considered to be fixed and the result of an individuals’ choices, the social work profession is increasingly becoming the long arm of the neoliberal government, in forcing those in need of social work’s intervention to either return to a labour market that continuously excludes them or be left without any help from a shrinking welfare state. As mentioned earlier, even in the most developed liberal welfare states of the Nordic countries, neoliberalism has destroyed any governmental organisations of solidarity for helping those who are deprived in society (Kamali and Jönsson, 2018). Social workers have the ‘choice’ to either be completely governmentalised, and comply with the neoliberal state and its anti-welfare policies, or leave the social work profession because they consider municipal and governmental social work organisations as a ‘sinking Titanic’ (Jönsson, 2019). The traditional global organisations of social work, such as the International Federation of Social Workers (IFSW) and the International Federation of Schools of Social Work (IASSW), have shown themselves to be more or less unable to take a serious radical position and effective action against the destruction of human lives and the planet by neoliberal racial capitalism. It seems that they are more interested in working with the neoliberal political power elites than against the neoliberal system. The declarations of the two professional organisations’ goals, which concern ‘promoting social change, social development, social cohesion, and the empowerment and liberation of people’ (IFSW and IASSW, 2014), are more rhetorical than representing a real policy for action with concrete strategies for changing structural inequalities and oppressions. Without admitting or understanding the core problems of neoliberal racial capitalism, no organisation is capable of showing the way forward in order to address the institutional and structural mechanisms behind the multiple problems of people in an unequal and unjust world. Ultimately, the anti-racist and anti-colonial declarations of such organisations are a melody to silence critical voices and continue their flirtations with established neoliberal organs and associations. During the last few decades, such organisations have made many declarations concerning the ‘Global ethics of social work’, the ‘Global agenda of social work’ and so forth, without achieving the least success. On the contrary. The neoliberal racial capitalism has reinforced its global grip and succeeded in silencing radical voices who advocate a change of the political system, media, academia and civil society (Kamali, 2021). A recent mobilisation among members of IASSW (a few of whom were on its steering committee) for issuing a simple declaration against Israeli aggression, colonial occupation and the killing of Palestinian people was stopped by the leadership of the organisation; a few days prior to the decision, the leadership had evoked a ‘popular mobilisation’ (mobilising supporters of neoliberal and governmentalised members of the organisation) to argue against issuing a simple declaration against Israel’s attacks on and aggressions against Palestinians on the

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Gaza strip. The main body of such organisations and their leadership are constituted of many governmentalised academics and others who do not seriously put neoliberal governmentalisation under question. It seems that the neoliberal agenda of depoliticising social problems and social work has very much influenced such organisations. As Gray and Webb (2014, p. 348) argue, notwithstanding political intent and claims, the international organisations of social work and social welfare lack a ‘political agenda’ in content. Despite their cooperation with the UN, no concrete strategy is yet provided as to how social workers would achieve such goals as global justice. The declarations made by international organisations of social work are more actions for legitimising their passive positions in the global sphere of social work. However, the positions of such organisations are not in contradiction to the main body of the social work profession, because social workers, as Gray and Webb (2014) argue, are not engaged in ordinary, day-to-day activities; they are mainly employed in urbanbased, public sector jobs within highly managerial, neoliberal environments. Significantly, the governmentalisation of students of social work has intensified in recent years. The education of social work has become increasingly influenced by neoliberal colonisation, intending to educate and train social work students to be qualified managerial agents of neoliberal governments. Neoliberal universities have changed many aspects of their education and adjusted it to the neoliberal security, military and industrial complex (Giroux, 2007). As a result of an aggressive neoliberalisation policy in many countries since the 1980s, universities are no longer concerned with collegiality and the defence of science and democracy, but, rather, are entrepreneurial institutions (Slaughter and Leslie, 1997; Giroux, 2007; Kamali and Jönsson, 2019; Kamali, 2021), in which students are treated as consumers, universities as producers and academics as docile workers. As a result, social work curricula have shifted away from critical social analysis to prioritise depoliticised curricula, based on the learning and teaching of technical skills that address individual problems and present them as psychological pathologies, rather than challenging social disadvantage or oppression (Hanesworth, 2017). The curriculum of social work in many universities is controlled by employers and governments, which marginalises the influence of social work academics and means it is not driven by social workers’ commitments to social justice or working with the needs of those engaged in social work interventions, but by market and neoliberal demands (Morley et al., 2017; Kamali and Jönsson, 2019). In addition, critical educators are controlled through many administrative mechanisms such as rigid ‘evaluation systems’ that are mainly based on students’ assessments of a teacher; in such a system of surveillance, students are attributed higher expertise than educators (Singh and Cowden, 2016). This forces many academics into self-censorship, conformity and conservatism, which destroys the ideal of academic freedom (Williams, 2016; Kamali, 2021). This becomes ‘especially problematic for social work education that seeks to be transformative, [where] educators [would want] to challenge racism, sexism, homophobia, ageism, ableism and other manifestations of oppression created by dominant power relations and structures’ (Morley et al., 2017, p. 28).

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 23 It is not only education but also research that has been influenced by the neoliberal colonisation of social work. This happens through various methods of controlling the funding of research, by direct and indirect governmental and political influence. Applications that align with neoliberal governmental policies and programmes are supported by funding agencies (Williams, 2016; Morley et al., 2017; Kamali and Jönsson, 2019; Kamali, 2021). In such a system, many critical and radical academics are forced to not only remain silent, but also, in many cases, to leave universities (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019). This can happen because many academics – whites and ‘non-whites’ – keep silent about the neoliberalisation of universities and their institutional racism. However, as Hannah Arendt (1962, p. 464) puts it: ‘Terror becomes total when it becomes independent of all opposition; it rules supreme when nobody any longer stands in its way’. In such circumstances, when our natural and social worlds are in danger of neoliberal racial capitalism, social work cannot continue to adjust itself to the demands of the oppressive structures of neoliberal racial capitalism. A new and global revolutionary social work should be developed in order to defend human rights and social justice for everyone, irrespective of their socioeconomic position, place of birth, gender, ethnicity, nationality, sexuality and other social and potentially otherised categorisations. Such a social work should mobilise those in need of social work intervention to challenge the structural and institutional basis of social problems. The global neoliberal capitalist system is destroying the natural and social worlds and, therefore, is in deep crisis, which makes it more aggressive, repressive, surveillant and destructive. We need alternative systems that can change the very basis of neoliberal capitalism and its colonial constituencies. Social work needs to leave its colonial and capitalist legacies and seek other methods and ways of mobilisation and intervention, in order to free its research, education and practices from neoliberal imperatives and instead be an agent for change in the face of the current, destructive order – of neoliberal racial capitalism.

Structure of this book The contributors to this book provide different illustrations of the limits of current social work organisations and actions, and provide alternative models of social work – or, what, in this book, is called revolutionary social work. Iain Ferguson and Michael Lavalette, in their Chapter 2 ‘“It’s Not Dark Yet But It’s Getting There”: Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance’, explore the major challenges of our times, such as climate crisis, military threats, neoliberal imperialism and state oppression. They raise and try to answer the questions ‘Where is social work in all this?’ and ‘What contribution, if any, can social work, a global profession formally committed to social justice and the empowerment and liberation of people (as the global definition of social work makes clear), play in challenging the forces of reaction and in furthering an agenda which foregrounds meeting human need, human rights, the environment and

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anti-racism?’. By exploring the history of social work and the different ways that the profession has responded to social problems, they elaborate on the role of critical and radical social work in challenging neoliberal social work and replacing it with collective values of solidarity. Phillip Ablett, Christine Morley and Heather Fraser, in Chapter 3, ‘Progressive Revolutionary Change and the Democratic University: Reimagining Higher Education’, argue that we live in an increasingly divided and precarious world, characterised by a climate emergency, a global pandemic and associated humanitarian crises. These phenomena cause great uncertainty and compound the increasing inequalities that are endemic to neoliberal capitalism, as well as triggering the rise of right-wing populism and fascism. They argue that higher education has the powerful potential to contribute to a critical, revolutionary consciousness, capable of imagining and enacting alternatives, but the dehumanising neoliberal processes that have permeated every aspect of our existence have also largely captured higher education, and subsequently, much of the profession of social work. The authors argue that we need a progressive revolution in universities, in which educational goals and principles triumph over capital and neoliberal goals. They argue that social work education must be radically reenvisioned within higher education as part of a broader revolutionary agenda, given that the institutional space for it in higher education is besieged. Paul Michael Garrett, in Chapter 4, ‘Anger and Social Work’, presents a comprehensive argument about why anger matters for social work in a neoliberal era when this emotion is regularly evoked in the face of critical voices and actions being annihilated, ignored, silenced or muted. By exploring condemnations of anger within the philosophical literature as something negative, Garrett argues that in order to understand legitimate anger, it should be related to the silencing of critical voices and the exercising of ‘symbolic violence’ and ‘epistemic injustices’, processes that prompt legitimate forms of anger (including collective expressions of this emotion) on the part of materially exploited, dominated and vilified communities. He advocates the importance of ‘knowing resistant anger’, which furnishes the ‘affective fuel’ that aids in the struggle for social justice and, more broadly, revolutionary transformations. Linda Harms-Smith, in Chapter 5, ‘Revolutionary Social Work: South African Perspectives’, explores the current unequal system of race-based capitalism in post-apartheid South Africa. She shows how apartheid structures, inequality and socioeconomic deprivation – which were entrenched at the time of transition to democracy through power exerted by global neoliberal financial institutions, internal compromises with the apartheid regime and the interests of white capitalist conglomerates – have made South Africa one of the most unequal societies in the world. She uses anti-colonial, critical and revolutionary social work scholarship to explore why revolutionary social work should be a response to current socioeconomic and political conditions in South Africa and analyse revolutionary practices of social work that resist, challenge and impact structural dynamics shaping ongoing socioeconomic precarity and broader issues of concern such as coloniality and the ecological crisis. She argues that the rich

Introduction: Revolutionising Social Work 25 history of South African political activism against the apartheid regime, and in the current movements against neoliberalism, provides proper ground and opportunities for the development of a revolutionary social work. Paz Valenzuela-Rebolledo, Gerhard Aldana-Araza, Carla Morales-Torres and Gianinna Muñoz-Arce, in Chapter 6, ‘“Chile Woke Up!” Political Resistance of Chilean Social Workers in the Context of the 18-O Movement’, argue that the political uprising that began on 18 October 2019 triggered a profound questioning of the neoliberal model implemented during the Pinochet dictatorship 50 years ago. They analyse social workers’ practices of professional resistance in the context of the 18-O movement. From a qualitative analysis of testimonies, documents and images produced in that period, they identify three types of revolutionary actions: the ‘occupation of the streets’ by social workers, the politicisation of professional organisations’ discourses and the development of orchestrated actions to denounce human rights violation. These practices of revolutionary social work provide an alternative to the depoliticisation and deprofessionalisation that social work has experienced in recent decades. Demitra-Dora Teloni, in Chapter 7, ‘Crisis, Social Work and Protest Movements: The Greek Case’, explores the role of two interrelated ‘crises’ in Greece – i.e., the financial and that regarding immigration – in the neoliberal context of the country. The author presents illustrations of solidary movements in Greece and how social workers have organised non-governmental activities in civil society in order to counteract neoliberal, anti-immigrant and racist polices and movements. She maintains that social workers’ revolutionary activities in civil society have changed their role as a bulwark to social problems, or in terms of the relation between the state and the excluded, claiming that, in an environment of neoliberal capitalism and the rise of racism and fascism, social workers need to shift from an individualistic perspective to focus instead on collective actions and practices. Teloni argues that social workers’ active participation in the new political and collective protest movements reinforces social work as a movement committed to social justice, and creates a creative anger towards the system and political social action for systemic changes. Mohammad Salar Kashani and Nasrin Ghavamnejad, in Chapter 8, ‘The Transformation of a Revolution: Neoliberalisation of the Welfare State and the Need for Radical Changes in Iran’, explore the role of the Iranian Revolution of 1979 for the post-revolutionary development of the welfare regime in 1980 and its subsequent weakening as a result of the neoliberalisation of society since the 1990s. They argue that in the wake of more than 80 per cent of the economic slogans of the revolutionaries having been aimed at ‘supporting the deprived groups of the population’, the popular claim and support for the welfare of people is still strong; ‘the spirit of the revolution’ is frequently used by people and popular resistance movements against the neoliberal Islamic regime of Iran. The authors maintain that although many progressive aspects of the revolution (e.g. demands for democracy and welfare) have faded away, such movements are still using ‘the spirit of a lost revolution’ in their struggles for social justice and revolutionary change. Although neoliberal Islamic governance pacifies some

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governmental and non-governmental organisation (NGO) social workers, many other social workers play a central role in several of these movements. Dawn Belkin Martinez, in Chapter 9, ‘Revolutionary Health: Radical Mental Health Social Work in the United States and the Liberation Health Model of Social Work Practice’, argues that over the past 40 years, the rise to dominance of neoliberalism has facilitated a profound transformation of the social, political and economic conditions in a long-standing, racial, capitalist society. The impact of neoliberalism on the US health care system has been profoundly negative, promoting free market values and practices rather than the right to health. The reality of racial capitalism and its political domination generates profound inequalities. The COVID-19 pandemic has unmasked the full extent of these preexisting inequalities and exacerbated the physical and behavioral health crisis that Americans, particularly black and brown Americans, are experiencing. She argues that given that social workers provide over 60 per cent of the mental health services in the United States, they are on the front lines in addressing this crisis. As one of the founders of the Boston Liberation Health movement, she makes a plea for revolutionary change in the system of racial capitalism.

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‘It’s Not Dark Yet but It’s Getting There’: Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance Iain Ferguson and Michael Lavalette

Introduction: Deepening crises We both grew up in the West of Scotland in the 1960s and 1970s. The 1962 Cuban Missile Crisis, and the very real threat of nuclear war it represented, was still fresh in people’s minds – especially for those like us living close to the UK main nuclear base at Faslane. It was not uncommon to see members of various religious groups wearing sandwich boards or carrying placards bearing the words ‘The End of the World Is Nigh’, and though we would frame our concerns differently, these people did capture a sense of foreboding at what the future may, or may not hold. In this chapter, we don’t want to sound like some old Marxist soothsayers of gloom and destruction (though as will be obvious, it is Marxism as a living tradition which informs both our theoretical analysis and our political practice). But as Bob Dylan’s lyrics in the chapter title suggests, one does not need to be a religious zealot to recognise that the situation in which we find ourselves – ‘we’ in this case meaning humanity as the custodians of life on earth – could scarcely be more serious. The Marxist philosopher Walter Benjamin, in his theses ‘On the Concept of History’ (Benjamin, 1940), characterised capitalism as an out-ofcontrol locomotive hurtling down the rail tracks towards the abyss. Our view is that this captures something poignant about the existential crisis that capitalism is creating for humanity. Here, we will refer to only four of the most pressing threats. First, there is the ecological crisis. Above all, this means human-induced climate change. Global temperatures have risen dramatically since the onset of the Industrial Revolution, with the speed of change (the ‘Great Acceleration’) particularly marked since the end of the Second World War. The ‘greenhouse gases’ methane and carbon dioxide have been pumped into the atmosphere causing temperatures to rise, ice-caps to melt and sea levels to rise, all of which have introduced significant instability to our weather and climatic systems. During most of the Holocene (the geological stage that has allowed human civilisation to flourish), the amount of carbon dioxide (CO2) in the atmosphere fluctuated between 180 parts per million (ppm) and 240 ppm. Recent figures put the CO2 levels at 410 ppm – and at 450 ppm irreversible, catastrophic climate change will occur. If immediate action is not taken, on present trends, we will hit this limit within the next few decades (Angus, 2017; Ferguson et al., 2018). DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-2

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But capitalism’s impact on our ecological system is not just in relation to climate change. Capitalism treats nature, and its resources, as commodities to be ‘used’, destroyed, bought and exchanged for profit. And this has led to the degradation of the natural world. The degradation of the earth by capitalism has led to what Marxists like John Bellamy Foster (Foster and Clark, 2020) have termed, significant ‘metabolic rifts’. This concept derives from Marx in Capital (Volume 3) where he writes of the ‘irreparable rift in the interdependent process of social metabolism’ (Marx, 1981, p. 946). Here Marx was discussing the rupture in the metabolic interaction between humanity and the rest of nature emanating from capitalist agricultural production. For example, Marx notes the ways that capitalist agriculture destroys and erodes top soil by failing to replenish the land. But other ‘metabolic rifts’ arise from things like dam building, which alters river pathways and disrupts water supplies. Or pollutants that are pumped into water ways and water reserves destroying plant and animal life and rendering vital water supplies redundant. These metabolic rifts are yet another example of capitalism’s destructive relationship with our ecological system. Fossil fuel capitalism has also led to the mass extinction of species on a scale not seen since the destruction of the dinosaurs some 66 million years ago. What is referred to as the ‘Sixth Mass Extinction of Wildlife’ means that more than 500 species of land animals are on the brink of extinction and are likely to be lost within 20 years (Earth.Org, 2021). It is clear. Four hundred years of capitalism has wrought immense destruction on our planet and time is, literally, running out. Our world is on fire and capitalism is hurtling humanity towards an existential crisis. As Benjamin argues, we need systemic change to interrupt the ‘process of historical evolution leading to catastrophe’ (Lowy, 2016, p. 9). A further element of the ecological crisis is the COVID-19 pandemic. It is a catastrophe that globally has so far claimed the lives of more than four million people and left millions more with long COVID and with mental health problems. But as radical biologist Rob Wallace (2016) and radical geographer Mike Davis (2005 and 2020) have shown, this is far from being a ‘natural’ disaster. Rather, it is the consequence of neoliberal capitalism’s relentless drive for profit which is also creating the conditions for zoonosis. In particular, the impact of the so-called ‘livestock revolution’ has created significant opportunities for pathogens to jump species boundaries. The massive factory farms, where thousands of cattle and pigs, and hundreds of thousands of chickens, are farmed intensively, has created what Wallace terms a ‘petri dish’ for the development of new viruses. But this sits alongside the continuing destruction of forests and the eviction of poor farmers from their land which, together, force farmers deeper into existing forest where they come into contact with wild animals. Together all of this creates the conditions where zoonosis can take place. In Monsters at the Door (2006), Mike Davis raised the spectre of pandemic disease jumping from animals to humans and the devastation this could cause. In the revised edition, The Monster Enters (2020), he notes that, in many

Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance 33 respects, we have been ‘lucky’ with COVID-19 and that it was possible – and is still possible – that a far more virulent disease could jump species and cause far greater destruction of human life than COVID-19 has. His conclusion is that, whilst capitalism continues to farm animals the way it now does and as forests continue to be destroyed at the rate that they currently are, then we should not be surprised that at some point, in the next weeks, months or years, another devastating pandemic will occur. A second threat we face is economic crisis. The global economy has not fully recovered from the Great Crash of 2008. And the price of bailing out the banks and saving capitalism since then has been paid by millions of working-class people across Europe in the form of the slashing of welfare services and austerity policies which have seen the living standards of working-class people, disabled people and pensioners plummet (Cavero and Poinasamy, 2013). It is now clear that governments are looking for the costs of the ‘pandemic recovery’ to be borne by working-class communities. Across the globe, various job protection schemes, put in place during the pandemic, are coming to an end, threatening a massive jobs cull. Economies are suffering from both low growth rates and inflation – ‘staglflation’ – to a level not witnessed since the 1970s. The pandemic has also exposed a crisis on neo-liberal logistics and supply lines. The preferred ‘just-in-time’ working practices of the global neo-liberal era are resulting in shortages of components, raw materials and food stuffs across the globe (Dominic Rushe et al., 2021). A frequently heard refrain at the beginning of the current pandemic was ‘we can’t go back to the way things were before’. The truth is, however, that unless we see much greater resistance than we have seen to date, then once again it will be ordinary people across the globe who will pay the cost of the COVID crisis through unemployment, collapsing living standards and the crumbling of health and social care services. Third, there is the political crisis. The adoption since the 1990s of neoliberal policies by formerly social democratic parties across the globe (and the inability of newer left formations such as Syrizah in Greece, Podemos in Spain and ‘Corbynism’ in the UK to withstand the pressures of global capitalism) has led to a collapse in working-class support for these parties and the growth in support for the far right and neofascist parties across the globe, from Brazil to India, from France to the USA. Across the globe, right-wing Governments have moved to undermine some of the gains that came out of the social movements of the 1960s. There have been attempts to roll back women’s rights (for example, the recent reversal of the Roe V Wade decision which has led to the criminalisation of abortion across many states in the US (Maier et al., 2021), or Russia’s decriminalisation of domestic violence in cases where the victim does not sustain ‘serious’ injuries (Spring, 2018)). We have witnessed the most blatant forms of institutionalised racism (perhaps most clearly in the numerous examples of police racism in the US). Institutionalised Islamophobia has been embedded in legislation in much of Europe (most notably France and Switzerland [see for example Abdelkader,

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2017]) and India, after the passing of the discriminatory Citizenship (Amendment) Act in 2020 (Bajoria, 2021). Whilst in Brazil the government has further moved to attack the rights of indigenous people and their campaigns against illegal mining interests (Wallace, 2021). And, of course, this sits alongside growing state hostility to refugees and migrants across much of the world (Crawley and Skleparis, 2018). Finally, all of the above are playing out against a backdrop of increasing interstate and imperialist rivalry. Whilst the recent Western retreat from Afghanistan represents a significant blow to US/UK prestige it has not stopped the competitive drive to war amongst states. The Russian assault on Ukraine and the expansion of NATO into Eastern Europe present a threat to global peace and the potential for escalation into nuclear conflict. The US and the UK continue to back Israel in their conflicts with Palestinians, groups in Syria and with Iran. Saudi Arabia uses British made bombs and aircraft to terrorise the population in Yemen. Over the summer of 2021 British naval vessels ‘appeared’ in Russian controlled waters off Crimea. The US embargo with Cuba continues apace. And whilst NATO fights a proxy war with Russia in Ukraine, there are growing tensions between the UK, the US, Australia and China in the South China seas. In 2021 the AUSUK military agreement increased tensions around China, whilst the US/China space race has taken on even darker tones with the launch of China’s ‘hypersonic’ missile tests. There can be no doubt that the stakes are high. And the question we wish to pose in this chapter is a simple one: where is social work in all this? What contribution, if any, can social work, a global profession formally committed to social justice and the empowerment and liberation of people (as the global definition of social work makes clear) play in challenging the forces of reaction and in furthering an agenda which foregrounds meeting human need, human rights, the environment and anti-racism? For reasons that hardly need mentioning, the contribution that social workers can make to addressing these global threats is likely to be a relatively limited one. The location of many social workers within State agencies (or NGOs which rely on the State or private companies for their funding) severely constrains their ability to engage in political action within their professional role as social workers. In addition, the well-documented erosion of social work practice in recent decades by the imposition of managerial and market-driven practices and priorities, resulting in the creation of what we call neoliberal social work (Ferguson, 2008; Harris, 2014), has reduced even further the possibility of engaging in progressive or creative practice, whether in the form of community work or therapeutic work with individuals. So, addressing these existential threats will require much more powerful social forces than social workers, forces on the scale of the great social movements and class-based movements of the 1960s and more recently during the Arab Spring of 2011. That said, in the past social workers have often had a much more ambitious view of their role than many seem to have today. Describing the activities of social workers in the USA in the period prior to the First World War, for example, Michael Reisch and Janice Andrews have written:

Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance 35 In hindsight, very few radical social workers during the Progressive Era [the decade before World War One] had consciously revolutionary goals in their daily work. A hundred years later, their achievements seem far more reformist than radical. Yet their emphasis on social justice, their analysis of socioeconomic conditions in structural or systemic terms, their focus on issues of social class, their links to movements organized by feminists and African Americans, and their ties to radical trade unionists and left-wing political parties represented a threat to the established political order that contemporaries could not ignore (Reisch and Andrews, 2002, p. 35). How then should we see the social work role in respect of the challenges we face today? Unfortunately, there are no guarantees as to how the social work profession will respond to these threats and challenges. As the British academic Bill Jordan has observed, social work has played various roles in contrasting systems of social provision, and has served a number of political ends: ‘Its great virtue – that it is almost infinitely adaptable to circumstances – also makes it open to exploitation for any kind of policy objectives (Jordan, 1984) In the next section we move on to discuss some of the ways in which social workers have responded to major political challenges in the past to see what we can learn from our own history. If we are to navigate the contemporary crises we would do well to learn from George Santayana’s well-known aphorism: ‘Those who cannot remember the past are condemned to repeat it.’ (Santayana, 1905/2018).

Social work’s contested past If we look at social work’s history we can see that, to a large degree, the profession has responded to social problems in a range of ways, each shaped by the dominant political perspectives within social work. International social work has always been a contested profession with different traditions, identified by Midgley as the remedial or casework tradition, the developmental tradition and the activist or radical tradition (Midgley, 2001). In this chapter our primary focus will be on the third of these traditions. This is not because it is the dominant tradition – in reality it has always been very much a minority tradition – nor is it because there are not also strengths in the other two traditions – there are – but for two main reasons. Firstly, because unlike the other two traditions, the radical tradition explicitly sees social work as a political activity, both in the sense of being a creature of social policy and also in having an ethical obligation to engage with the political issues of the day. Secondly, in our view, based on our experience of involvement over almost two decades in the Social Work Action Network in the UK (more on which below) we are currently seeing a revival of that tradition, examples of which we will discuss below.

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Before then, however, it is necessary to consider some of the ways in which the profession has responded to major political or ethical challenges in the past. We will suggest that these responses have usually taken one of three main forms – collusion, compliance or contestation – and we offer examples of each. Secondly, we will identify some of the factors which have given rise to the most recent experience of contestation (what one of us has called elsewhere ‘the new social work radicalism’). Finally, we will argue that historically Marxism been important in shaping radical social work theory and practice in the past and continues to offer a strong foundation for a radical social work praxis in the 21st century, including explaining and challenging different forms of oppression. Collusion The first response we shall consider is collusion and co-operation with oppressive State practices. There is a dominant narrative within much mainstream social work literature which sees social work as essentially a benign profession, rooted in Kantian ethics and primarily concerned with helping people. It may indeed be the case that most social workers, most of the time, have ‘good intentions’. The reality of social work practice, however, has frequently been far from benign. As we have argued in our book Global Social Work in a Political Context, social work has its own ‘horrible histories’. Firstly, there is the experience of social work in Nazi Germany, probably the lowest point in the profession’s history. Walter Lorenz, Tim Kunstreich and others have documented the ways in which the diagnostic skills of social workers were used within the Nazi regime’s eugenicist social programmes to sort out the ‘deserving’ from the ‘unworthy’, those with mental illnesses or learning disabilities, who would then be deemed eligible for compulsory sterilization or extermination. As Lorenz has noted: Sticking to their professional task with the air of value neutrality and scientific detachment (especially after the ‘non-conforming’, ‘politically active’ social workers had been sacked or imprisoned) they did not feel responsible for the consequences of their assessments and may indeed not have been conscious of the full implications their work had in the national context. (Lorenz, 2006) It is estimated that around 70,000 mentally ill and learning disabled individuals were systematically exterminated in Germany between 1939 and 1941, a figure that had risen to around 250,000 by the end of the Second World War (Holocaust Encyclopedia). A second example comes from Greece. Research by Vasilios Ioakimidis has shone a light on the role played by the leadership of the Greek social work profession during decades of political tension and the suppression of civil rights which culminated in a 7-year military Junta (1967–1974). As Ioakimidis has

Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance 37 shown, much of the resistance against the dictatorship came from young people, mostly school pupils and university students. When the military found it difficult to control ‘unruly young people’ and many teachers seemed to be too politicised to deal with the issue, the Greek Association of Social Workers (GASW) GASW contacted the dictatorship, offering the full support of social workers in controlling these unruly young people. In response, the dictatorship’s Minister of Welfare circulated a memo entitled ‘Arrangements for social workers and their professional utilization’, suggesting that: The Greek government during the general ongoing labour reform will look after all the remaining social work demands … On the other hand, we really appreciate social workers’ contribution in the constructive implementation of our social programs … The ministry of social services will take all the appropriate measures for the advantageous and coherent organization of social workers in commission. (Ioakimidis, 2011, p. 515) GASW celebrated such collaboration, reassuring Colonel Papadopoulos, head of the military junta, that Greek social workers were well-equipped to deal with issues of social adjustment and stressing that social workers: ‘are better scientifically equipped than teachers in preventing the social tribulations [in schools]’ (Ioakimidis, 2011). This, remember, was a vicious dictatorship actively engaged in using all means, including torture, to suppress pro-democracy activists. A third example comes from the United Kingdom and concerns the UK Child Migrants Scheme. Between the end of the 19th century and the early 1970s, around 150,000 children who were in in care and from poor backgrounds were sent from Britain to Australia, Canada and other British colonies. In a scheme which was supported by some of the leading social work children’s charities in the UK, they were sent to replenish the workforce in these countries, and in the case of South Africa this included ensuring that the children were selected on the grounds of their ‘good white stock’. (Bean and Melville, 1989). Many of the children ended up working as cheap labour on farms, while others were abused – physically, emotionally and sexually – in foster homes, state-run orphanages and religious institutions. The children were often told – falsely – that their parents were dead, while their parents were given little information about where their offspring were going. Survivors have said that on arrival they were separated from brothers and sisters, and subjected to brutal physical and sexual abuse by those who were meant to be caring for them. In 2010, the Prime Ministers of Britain and Australia publicly apologized to the survivors for the abuse that they had suffered. It remains, nevertheless, one of the most shameful episodes in the history of British (and Australian) social work. Let’s be clear. We are not arguing that all the social workers in Germany, during the Nazi era, were card-carrying members of the Nazi party and not even, necessarily, Nazi voters, or fellow-travellers or ‘supporters’ in a conscious sense

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(though some undoubtedly were all of these). Neither are we suggesting that all social workers in Greece were conscious supporters of the Junta, or that British social workers were racist abusers of children. There is a sense, however, in which social workers in each of our examples above, had become ‘thoughtless’ bureaucrats and exemplars of what Arendt (1963/2006) might call the ‘banality of evil’. In her analysis of Nazi mass murderer Adolph Eichmann she suggested Eichmann was a mediocrity, and insipid character, though diligent at his tasks. He was someone who, due to his ‘thoughtlessness’, performed ‘evil deeds without evil intentions’, and never fully ‘realised what he was doing’ because of an ‘inability … to think from the standpoint of someone else’. Lacking basic empathy, or without any depth to his understandings of the world he ‘committed crimes under circumstances that made it … impossible for him to know or to feel that he [was] doing wrong’. For Arendt he was an example of the faceless nature of Nazi evil. Without critical thinking, without reflection and empathy then the social worker can easily become an ‘unthinking bureaucrat’ carrying out tasks in which they can become a small cog in repressive state machinery and a professional who is colluding with the powerful. Compliance: Professional neutrality If one response to political pressure has been active collusion with oppressive state policies, a more common response has been to portray social work as a politically neutral profession, a profession which somehow stands ‘above politics’. That narrow, depoliticised view of social work, which is also a defining feature of what has been called neoliberal social work, is one which has been promoted by governments in the UK, both Labour and Conservative, for more than two decades. Launching the new social work degree in England and Wales in 2002, for example, the then Health Minister Jacqui Smith argued: Social work is a very practical job. It is about protecting people and changing their lives, not about being able to give a fluent and theoretical explanation of why they got into difficulties in the first place’. (Smith, 2002) Compliance has certain elements in common with collusion in that it requires the social worker to implement state policies, but this is not the ‘thoughtless’, unempathetic implementation of authoritarian rules we noted above. Under compliance most workers will be aware, to some degree, of the consequences of policies on service users, their families and communities but will feel there is ‘no viable alternative’. However, in reality, denying the political nature of social work has not meant that social work has remained ethically pure – in fact quite the opposite. In practice, it has frequently meant social workers remaining silent when they

Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance 39 should have spoken out, failing to challenge policies and practices which contribute to oppression or inequality and pursuing instead a narrow focus on social work methods and technologies in pursuit of professional respectability. Contestation: A social work of resistance If the response of social workers when faced with political repression has sometimes been active collusion or, more commonly, to remain silent and just ‘get on with the job’, it is also true historically that there has been a third response, one of active resistance to oppression, of social workers taking sides. That response is often associated with the radical social work movement which developed in Britain, Canada, Australia and the US during the early 1970s, fuelled by the rise of the great social movements of the 1960s – the women’s movement, the black civil rights movement and so on. Some of that movement’s key features were: • • • • • •

An emphasis on structural inequality, not individual failings A critique of the welfare state as oppressive and controlling Advocacy for a different relationship between workers and clients An emphasis on collective approaches For alliances between social workers and collectives of service users The realisation that ‘social workers are workers too’ and growing trade union involvement in social work

Importantly, radical social work was seen by its adherents not as a method but rather an approach, or, in the words of the authors of the eponymous text: ‘Radical social work, we feel, is essentially understanding the position of the oppressed in the context of the social and economic structures they live in’ (Bailey and Brake, 1975, p. 9). That movement was very important. But as we have argued elsewhere the radical social work tradition is older than the 1970s movement (Lavalette and Ferguson, 2008). For example, in a speech in 1910, Jane Adams, then President of the National Association of Social Workers in the USA could argue: One group who have traditionally been moved to action by ‘pity to the poor’, we call ‘Charitable’; the other larger or smaller in each generation but always fired by the ‘hatred of injustice’, we designate as the Radicals’. (Addams, 1910: p. 68) From the late 19th century to the mid-20th century there were a number of significant ‘radical pioneers’, advocating for a different kind of social work. As well as Jayne Adams (in the USA) the roll call includes, amongst others, people (overwhelmingly women) like Bertha Cappen Reynolds (USA), Mentona Mosser (Switzerland), Irena Sendler (Poland), Esme Rodgers (Australia), Mary Jennison and Bessie Touzel (Canada) and Mary Hughes and Emmeline Pethick (Britain).

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In a paper discussing the significance of Canadian radical social work pioneers, Jennissen and Lundy (2018) describe the subjects of their article in a way that is applicable to all the women listed above: [They are] ‘radical social workers’; that is, social workers who held left wing views with class-based critiques of capitalism. The women in our sample, all educated in social work, were committed feminists, socialists and communists or sympathetic to these causes; their contributions to the profession were informed by Marxist ideas. They were politically active, and were opposed to class, race, and gender inequality. They understood the importance of waged labour, unions, political parties and how these structures related to working people. They were intellectuals and prolific in writings, presentations and conference participation; they were internationalists committed to peace. Finally, they were extremely courageous, refusing to shy away from their political convictions in spite of red-baiting, firings, and persecution by the state and conservative forces in society. (2018, pp. 46/47) Further, let us emphasise, social work activism and resistance has not always been confined to the English-speaking world. One of the most important examples of radical praxis, albeit still not sufficiently well known in the West, is the Reconceptualisation Movement which developed in Latin America in the 1960s (CRSW, 2021). The Reconceptualisation Movement was rooted in Marxism and was influenced by three contemporary perspectives: the conscientisation ideas of Paulo Freire, elements drawn from liberation theology and the influence the social movements which were emerging in Latin America at that time. One of the key points to note about all of the radical social workers and movements we have mentioned is that they did not exist in isolation. They were part of radical social work networks which had immersed themselves in relevant, and significant, movements for social change: women’s rights and suffrage associations, trade union and class-based organisations, peace, anti-war and antiimperialist groups, campaigns for rights for migrants, refugees and dispossessed communities. They were involved in, inspired by and learned from engagement with these progressive movements; it was their involvement that created the opportunity to bring the insight from the movements into their social work activities. As such, they sought to develop a social work theory and practice which both challenged the oppressive structures of capitalism and contributed to the struggle for a different kind of society. In more recent times, and like other progressive movements, radical social work (and social work more generally) has become a target of New Right Governments and political formations which came to prominence in the early 1980s with the election of Margaret Thatcher in the UK and Ronald Reagan in the USA. For the most part, radical social work has been in retreat during the long night of neoliberalism. There are signs, however, that things are starting to change. Recent years have witnessed growing resistance by social workers across

Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance 41 the globe to the impact of neoliberal policies both on the lives of those who use social work services and on the day-to-day practice of social work. A number of factors have contributed to the rise of this new radicalism: anger over the austerity policies imposed on the poor and disabled after the economic crash of 2008, the impact of wider social movements such as the Occupy Wall Street movement in 2011 and solidarity with refugees fleeing wars and persecution. But if there is one single factor fuelling this resistance, it is a rejection by workers across the globe of the market-driven model of social work which has been promoted by governments in the UK and elsewhere since 1990s and which continues to be the dominant model in many parts of the world. The influence of that model was evident in a series of online seminars jointly organised in 2020 by the International Federation of Social Workers and the Social Work Action Network to discuss social work responses to the COVID-19 pandemic (now published as an e-book (Lavalette et al., 2020)). Positively, participants from Greece, Chile, South Africa, Palestine and elsewhere reported on new and imaginative ways that social workers had developed to keep in touch with service users during the crisis, to reduce social isolation and to protect mental health. There were also inspiring accounts of social workers making links with the new mutual aid organisations that were springing up everywhere and the challenge this represented to risk-averse, neoliberal social work models. Less positively, however, many social workers reported that in their agencies, it was ‘business as usual’. Rather than responding in new and creative responses to the catastrophe which COVID represented, workers spoke of the same management preoccupation with meeting budgets and targets and also the same emphasis on monitoring and surveillance rather than on working collectively with communities and service users to help them meet their needs and address their difficulties in times of crisis. Others still talked about social work being ‘invisible’ in the current crisis – with one describing how child protection assessments were being conducted from outside people’s homes through windows! This reality is not the fault of individual workers or even of individual managers. Rather, it reflects the well-documented dominance, over several decades, of New Public Management or managerialist approaches to social work, based on a highly individualised practice driven by budgets and targets, the erosion of relationship-based practice (with direct work often out-sourced to Third Sector or private organisations) and a growing geographical and cultural divide between social work agencies and the communities they purport to serve. Such ‘neoliberal social work’ is of course far removed from what many would recognise as good social work practice. It has also meant that social work’s contribution during the COVID crisis has been considerably less than it could have been. But whilst all of this is true, the past two decades have, as we noted above, also seen growing resistance to that model, examples of which we shall consider in the remainder of this chapter.

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The new social work radicalism In this final section, we wish to consider some of the new shoots of social work radicalism that have emerged over the last period. In Global Social Work in a Political Context, we have plotted the growth of a range of radical social work organisations across the globe (Ferguson et al., 2018). We have previously noted the success of the Spanish Orange Tide which came to prominence in 2014 immersed in the movements against austerity that were blossoming in Spain at the time. The relatively short-lived, though significant, Hungarian network New Approach whose work with homeless people and Roma communities brought them into conflict with the authoritarian Hungarian state. The Progressive Welfare Network in Hong Kong involves a number of (very brave) frontline workers who have been particularly active in social movements in recent years and who have played an important role in developing more radical forms of practice. They had a central role both in the Occupy Hong Kong movement in 2011, in the Umbrella democracy movement of 2014–2015. Whilst the Boston Health Liberation Group in the USA which, in addition to campaigning activity, has developed a model of practice which is consciously political and radical and which has documented its use across a range of social work settings (Martinez and Fleck-Henderson, 2014). Its guiding principles are summarized by Martinez and Flec‐Henderson as being: • • •

•

Holistic: situating individuals in their full matrix of personal structural, ideological and institutional determinants; Critical: refusing to accept neo-liberalism and refusing to accept the notion that social work ought to subordinate itself to its social agenda; Empowering: seeking to liberate clients and social workers from the confusing belief that current conditions are inevitable and beyond our power to change; seeking to support their becoming active allies of individuals and movements working fore social change; Hopeful: rescuing memory of and valuing ‘the collective human capacity to create change’ (Martinez and Flec-Henderson, 2014).

Finally, as founder members of the Social Work Action Network (SWAN) in the UK we have previously discussed the network’s activity and philosophy (see Ferguson et al., 2018; Moth and Lavalette, 2019). The network was founded in 2006 at a 300-strong conference at Liverpool. Not long after, SWAN groups were established in Greece and Ireland. SWAN’s activities have been grouped around three key aspects. First, annual conferences, held each year in different universities across the UK, have provided an important forum for discussing and debating national policy responses to issues affecting social work such as austerity, privatization and racism. A key feature of these conferences has been the role played by service users, both as platform speakers and as delegates.

Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance 43 Second, SWAN has been involved in a number of campaigns at both national and local levels. At a local level, these have included the defence of asylum seekers, opposition to the privatization of children’s’ services and challenging cuts to mental health services. Nationally, SWAN was one of the organising networks that in 2015 set up a number of ‘convoys’ to support refugees being held in unofficial holding centres in France, Greece and the Czech Republic. In Scotland, SWAN has campaigned for a publicly owned and controlled social care system based on need, not profit (Ferguson and Gall, 2021). Third, in 2013, SWAN was involved with Policy Press to set up and launch Critical and Radical Social Work: an International Journal. Although not formally linked to SWAN, the fact that the two co-editors were also founder members of SWAN and that many members of the editorial board are leading SWAN activists means that in practice, the links are close. The journal has now established a wide readership and is providing a forum for the development of new thinking in critical and radical social work with contributions from across the globe. During the pandemic, the various radical social work organisations listed above started to work much more closely together. From May 2020, the groupings started to hold regular webinars – and started to hold joint webinar meetings with the International Federation of Social Work. The outcome was the creation of a formal international network the Social Work Action Network International (SWANI). SWANI has pulled groups together from across the globe. It has representative groups in the UK, Ireland, Greece, Hungary and Sweden; the Philippines, Japan, Hong Kong and Australia; Chile, Brazil and Argentina and the USA. Though not a formal ‘member’, the Rebel Social Work collective in New Zealand (which has a significant presence on Facebook) is a close ally of the group. The Network meets quarterly to plan its activities and has sub-groups to address issues associated with social work education, social work professionalism/ trade unionism and web/social media presence. At Easter 2021, the network had its first multi-lingual/multiple time zone international conference which attracted input from thousands of social workers across the globe. SWANI brings together radical social workers from across the globe and is a key hub for radical practitioners, academics and service users to meet, discuss and share new ideas. But the network is an ‘Action Network’ with a focus on political engagement in each of the countries where SWANI has a foothold and internationally coordinated action wherever possible. Like the radical pioneers of previous generations, however, SWANI sees radical social work as an integral part of broader movements for social change. The working model is one that, in politics, would be understood as a ‘united front’. Drawing on the insights developed by the Comintern in the early 1920s (Comintern, 1922) and developed more fully in the work of Leon Trotsky (1931/1989) and Antonio Gramsci (1926/1990), the United Front was originally conceived as a strategic intervention to argue for the greatest unity in action amongst progressive forces in the struggle for a better world. Drawing on

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Choonara’s (2007) summary: the ‘United front’ draws activists together in common struggle; it represents a set of demands acceptable to those who would describe themselves as revolutionaries (of whom some will be Marxists) and those who are not, but are committed to significant reform and improvement in social conditions; within the United Front, there is space for fraternal ideological contestation over goals, strategy and tactics. SWANI represents an international ‘united front’ of radical social workers. It has brought groups of radical activists together around the notion that ‘another social work is possible’. That is the belief that ‘good’, well-funded social work services, committed to meeting people’s needs can significantly improve the lives of individuals and communities. That this ‘other social work’ is one that is committed to social justice and to countering all forms of oppression and class inequality. And the strong belief that, to establish this ‘better social work’ mean engaging in political struggles for a different world.

Conclusion: The return of resistance We began this chapter by highlighting the profound existential threats posed by a toxic combination of global crises – ecological, economic and political. These threats could scarcely be more serious. But there is another, more hopeful, side to this bleak picture. For as a 2019 think-tank report cited in the Economist magazine showed, the world has also experienced more political uprisings in the past few years than ever before. In 2019 alone, there were protests on every continent and across 114 countries – from Hong Kong to Haiti, Bolivia to Britain. Commenting on the report, the Economist noted that: Such unrest is part of a growing trend. [T]he number of mass protests globally has increased by 11.5% per year, on average, since 2009. (Mass protests are defined as civilian anti-government protests, regardless of size, and excluding riots and protests against non-state entities.) Even after adjusting for population growth, the authors reckon that the number of demonstrators who have taken to the streets in recent years exceeds that of either the anti-Vietnam War movement or the Civil Rights movement. (Economist, 2020) These mass protests include the Black Lives Matter movement which, in its global impact and its challenge to police brutality and institutional racism, has achieved more in a few short years than the reformist strategy of getting ‘black faces in high places’ has done in decades. They also include the Climate Justice movement which in November 2021 mobilised 100,000 people from across the globe to demonstrate at the COP-26 conference in Glasgow, demanding real action on climate change from the world leaders present and not simply more empty promises (or what the inspirational young Swedish activist Greta Thunberg called ‘blah blah blah’). The fact that one of the main demands of the demonstrators was ‘system change, not climate change’ underlines the extent to

Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance 45 which movement activists are making the links between environmental destruction and a rapacious neoliberal capitalism which, if left unchecked, will destroy humanity and the planet in its relentless drive for profit (Empson, 2020). In the 1960s and early 1970s, social work in several countries was transformed through engagement with the great social movements of the day (Thompson, 2002). In the same way, we would argue, it is in engagement with, and learning from, these new examples of collective struggle and resistance that the best hope lies for developing new, more radical, forms of social work practice in the 21st century and for replacing the individualism that is the hallmark of neoliberal social work with the collective value of solidarity. In the words of the great Uruguayan writer Eduardo Galeano: I don’t believe in charity. I believe in solidarity. Charity is so vertical. It goes from the top to the bottom. Solidarity is horizontal. It respects the other person. I have a lot to learn from other people. (Cited in Barsamian, 2004, p. 146)

References Abdelkader, E. (2017). ‘A comparative analysis of european islamophobia: France, UK, Germany, Netherlands and Sweden’, UCLA Journal of Islamic and Near Eastern Law, 16(1). https://escholarship.org/content/qt870099f4/qt870099f4.pdf Addams, J. (1910). ‘Charity and social justice’, The North American Review, 192(656), pp. 68–81. https://www.jstor.org/stable/25106710?seq=2#metadata_info_tab_contents Angus, I. (2017). Facing the anthropocene: fossil capitalism and the crisis of the earth system. New York: Monthly Review Press. Arendt, H. (1963/2006). Eichmann in jerusalem: a report on the banality of evil. London: Penguin Classics. Bailey, R., and Brake, M. (1975). Radical social work. London: Edward Arnold. Bajoria, J. (2021). ‘“Shoot the traitors” discrimination against muslims under India’s new citizenship policy’, Human Rights Watch. April 2021. Available at: https://www.hrw. org/report/2020/04/09/shoot-traitors/discrimination-against-muslims-under-indiasnew-citizenship-policy Barsamian,D. (2004). Louder than bombs: interviews from the progressive magazine. California: Southend Press. Bean, P., and Melville, J. (1989). Lost children of the empire. London: Unwin and Hyman. Benjamin, W. (1940). On the concept of history. Marxist Internet Archive. https://www. marxists.org/reference/archive/benjamin/1940/history.htm Cavero, T., and Poinasamy, K. (2013). A cautionary tale: the true cost of austerity and inequality in Europe. London: Oxfam. Choonara, J. (2007). ‘The united front’, International Socialism, 117. Available at: https:// isj.org.uk/the-united-front/ Comintern (1922). ‘Theses on comintern tactics’, Fourth Congress of the Communist International. Available at: https://www.marxists.org/history/international/comintern/ 4th-congress/tactics.htm

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Crawley, H. and Skleparis, D. (2018) ‘Refugees, migrants, neither, both: categorical fetishism and the politics of bounding in Europe’s ‘migration crisis’, Journal of Ethnic and Migration Studies, 44(1), pp. 48–64. 10.1080/1369183X.2017.1348224 CRSW (2021). ‘Latin America’s radical social work tradition’, Critical and Radical Social Work: An International Journal (Special Issue), 9, 1 March 2021. Davis, M. (2005). Monster at the door: the global threat of avian flu. New Press. Davis, M. (2020). The monster enters: COVID-19, avian flu and the plagues of capitalism. OR Books. Earth.Org (2021). ‘Sixth mass extinction of wildlife accelerating’. 10 August. Available at: https://earth.org/sixth-mass-extinction-of-wildlife-accelerating/ Economist (2020). ‘Political protests have become more widespread and more frequent’, 10 May, 2020. Available at: https://www.economist.com/graphic-detail/2020/03/10/ political-protests-have-become-more-widespread-and-more-frequent Empson, M. (ed.) (2020). System change not climate change: a revolutionary response to environmental crisis. London: Bookmarks. Ferguson, I. (2008). Reclaiming social work: Challenging neo-liberalism and promoting social justice. London: Sage. Ferguson, I., and Gall, G. (eds.) (2021). People before profit: the future of social care in scotland. Glasgow: Social Work Action Network/Jimmy Reid Foundation. Ferguson, I., Ioakimidis, V., and Lavalette, M. (2018). Global social work in a political context: Radical perspectives. Bristol: Policy Press. Foster, J. B., and Clark, B. (2020). The robbery of nature: Capitalism and the ecological rift. New York: Monthly Review Press. Gramsci, A. (1926/1990). ‘Lyons theses’ in gramsci, Selections from political writings 1921–1926. University of Minnesota. www.marxists.org/archive/gramsci/spw2contents.htm Harris, J. (2014). ‘(Against) Neoliberal social work’, Critical and Radical Social Work, 2(1), pp. 7–22 Holocaust Enclyclopedia (United States Holocaust Memorial Museum). ‘Euthenasia Programme and Aktion T4’. Available at: https://encyclopedia.ushmm.org/content/ en/article/euthanasia-program Ioakimidis, V. (2011). ‘Expanding imperialism, exporting expertise: international social work and the Greek project (1946-1974)’, International Social Work, 54(4), pp. 504–519 Jennissen, T., and Lundy, C. (2018). ‘Radical women in social work: a historical perspective from North America’. Aotearoa New Zealand Social Work, 30(3). Jordan, B. (1984). Invitation to Social Work. Oxford: Basil Blackwell, p. 114. Lavalette, M., Ioakimidis, V., and Ferguson, I. (eds.) (2020). Social work and the Covid-19 pandemic: international insights. Bristol: e-book, Bristol University Press. Lavalette, M., and Ferguson, I. (eds.) (2008). International social work and the radical tradition. Birmingham: Venture Press. Lorenz, W. (2006). Perspectives on european social work: from the birth of the nation state to the impact of globalisation. Berlin: Verlag Barbara Budrich. Lowy, M. (2016). Fire alarm. London: Verso. Maier, M., Samari, G., and McGovern, T. (2021). ‘US abortion rights under attack: before, during, and beyond the COVID-19 pandemic’. BMJ Sexual and Reproductive Health Journal. https://blogs.bmj.com/bmjsrh/2021/09/10/us-abortion-rights-underattack-before-during-and-beyond-the-covid-19-pandemic/

Global Crises, Social Work and Resistance 47 Martinez, D. B., & Flec-Anderson, A. (2014). Social justice in clinical practice: a liberation framework for social work, New York: Routledge. Marx, K. (1981). Capital (Volume 3). Marxist Internet Archive. https://www.marxists. org/archive/marx/works/download/pdf/Capital-Volume-III.pd Midgley, J. (2001). ‘Issues in International social work’, Journal of Social Work, 1(1), pp. 21–35 Moth, R., and Lavalette, M. (2019). Social policy and welfare movements ‘from below’: the social work action network (SWAN) in the UK. In U. KLammer, S. Leiber and S. Leitner (eds.) Social work and the making of social policy. Bristol: Policy Press. Reisch, M., and Andrews, J. (2002). The road not taken: a history of radical social work in the United States. London: Routledge. Rushe, D., Davidson, H., Connolly, K., Roth, A., Inman, P. and Farrer, M. (2021). ‘How the supply chain crisis is affecting six big economies’, The Guardian. 2 October. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/business/2021/oct/02/how-the-supplychain-crisis-is-affecting-six-big-economies Santayana, G. (1905/2018). The life of reason: or, the phases of human progress. New York: Adansonia Press. Smith, J. (2002). Speech to the community care live conference. Available at: https://www. communitycare.co.uk/2002/05/22/full-text-of-jacqui-smiths-speech-to-community-carelive-2002/ Spring, M. (2018). ‘Decriminalisation of domestic violence in Russia leads to fall in reported cases’ The Guardian. 16 August. Available at: https://www.theguardian.com/ world/2018/aug/16/decriminalisation-of-domestic-violence-in-russia-leads-to-fall-inreported-cases Thompson, N. (2002). ‘Social movements, social justice and social work’, British Journal of Social Work, 32(6), pp. 711–722 Trotsky, L. (1931/1989). What next? Vital Questions for the German Proletariat’ In L. Trotsky Fascism, stalinism and the united front. London: Bookmarks. Available at: https://www.marxists.org/archive/trotsky/germany/1932-ger/ Wallace, R. (2016). Big farms make big flu: dispatches on influenza, agribusiness, and the nature of science. New York: Monthly Review Press. Wallace, S. (2021). ‘An illegal gold rush is igniting attacks on Indigenous people in the Amazon’ National Geographic. 6 July. Available at: https://www.nationalgeographic. com/history/article/war-on-indigenous-amazon-communities-in-brazil

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Progressive Revolutionary Change and the Democratic University: Reimagining Higher Education Phillip Ablett, Christine Morley, and Heather Fraser

Introduction We live in an increasingly divided and precarious world characterised by a climate emergency, a global pandemic, and associated humanitarian crises. These phenomena cause great uncertainty and compound the increasing inequalities endemic to neoliberal capitalism, which in turn are triggering the rise of right-wing populism, fascism, and war. Within this context, the argument for a progressive revolution to respond to growing injustices along the lines of class, gender, ethnicity, and other bases of oppression becomes more compelling (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019). However, many of us located in neoliberal regimes (particularly in the social professions) do not feel like we are living in progressive-revolutionary times. If there is an institutional field that offers potential in contributing to the formation of a critical, revolutionary consciousness, capable of envisaging social alternatives, then higher education is a key contender, but the dehumanising neoliberal processes that have permeated every aspect of our existence, have also largely captured higher education, including social work education. This transformation has not occurred without notice or resistance. In this chapter, we argue the case for a progressive revolution in universities: one in which educational goals and principles transcend the demands of capital. Despite the absence of a revolutionary conjuncture, we maintain that seeking significant reforms can contribute to a revolutionary agenda (Garrett, 2018). So, we ask what changes might be necessary within higher education for universities to contribute to fostering a critical-revolutionary consciousness? This agenda is predicated on the argument that education remains a terrain of struggle. One to be contested through a combination of what Wright (2010) calls symbiotic, ruptural, and interstitial strategies of change, and in which the latter two must be prioritised to enact radical transformation for an egalitarian, participatory, and ecologically sustainable society. The discussion proceeds by revisiting the contested meaning of revolution and its relationship to the social professions (particularly social work) before examining the contemporary context and making the case for a renewed revolutionary politics, with a particular focus on higher education. After recapitulating the necessary critiques, the chapter DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-3

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sketches what a revolutionary alternative to neoliberal education might look like and most importantly what strategic options are available to those seeking such change today.

Social work and revolution Revolutions are typically understood as ‘rapid, basic transformations of a society’s state and class structure … accompanied and in part carried through by class based revolts from below’ (Skocpol, 1979, p. 4). In the Marxist tradition, the emphasis has been on the transformations in political economy from one mode of production and exchange to another, a contradictory yet progressive process aimed at the material realisation of universal freedom and equality under socialism. Throughout most of the 20th century, prior to the 1979 Iranian revolution, most successful revolutions were led by Marxists. In the 19th century, however, Marx and Engels themselves held that this modern revolutionary process was inaugurated not by socialists but the capitalist class, who ‘cannot exist without constantly revolutionising the instruments of production, and thereby the relations of production, and with them the whole relations of society’ (Marx and Engels, 2004/1848). Ultimately, they reason that the emancipatory goal of the revolution can only be carried forward by the oppressed, working classes that capitalism itself has produced. Simultaneously, they are aware that revolutions are processes that occur in waves rather than being entirely at the behest of revolutionary subjects; and that, in the absence of an upsurge, the oppressed must organise autonomously, educating, agitating, and mobilising relentlessly for reforms (Marx, 1964/1850; Engels, 1895). Their vision of transformation was predominantly ruptural, anticipating a clear break with the existing order, through either violent or non-violent struggles, depending on context, with the democratic support of most of society, and the institution of direct democratic institutions forthwith (Marx, 1940/1871). However, the success of the 1917 Bolshevik revolution in Russia instituted a new Marxist–Leninist orthodoxy, whose model of an elite, vanguard party of professional revolutionaries seizing state power on behalf of the working class and subsequent suppression of all dissent to the party’s leadership in a revolutionary ‘dictatorship of the proletariat’, has cast a heavy and authoritarian shadow on subsequent revolutionary projects. Social work and social services emerged largely as a response to the consequences of industrial-capitalist revolution that Marx and Engels believed had irrevocably changed the world and could only be superseded by further progressive revolution. However, social work was conceived as a profession to ameliorate the worst harms and stabilise the inevitable crises of capitalism, not transform it (Ablett and Morley, 2016). While there were pioneer social workers who sought to extend its role beyond charity into advocacy for social reform, these efforts were seldom revolutionary (Ablett and Morley, 2019). A few exceptions challenged the ameliorative reform orientation of the profession, however: notably the ‘rank and file’ movement in the United States

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in the 1920–1940s; and the Marxist-oriented ‘radical social work’ of the 1970s. The former was galvanised in response to the economic crises producing the Great Depression with efforts to unionise social service workers alongside other workers, in some cases promoting Marxian analysis for revolutionary socialism (Hunter, 1999). This movement was popular but failed to capture the mainstream of the profession, whose leadership ostracised it even prior to the anticommunist reaction of the late 1940s (Reisch and Andrews, 2002; Reisch, 2020). The radicalism of the 1970s was inspired by the re-emergent Marxist critiques of capitalism, the success of anti-colonial struggles and the upsurge of various popular and radical, social movements of that era. These social workers highlighted the deficiencies of professional social work’s complicity as an agent of social control and sought alternative, mainly collectivist, forms of critical practice, allied with their service users, and various social movements for change. However, even at the peak of its radicalism, critical sociologist Jeff Hearn (1981, pp. 2–3) observed that social work remained a reformist project rather than one of ‘drastic social change or social revolution’. This wave was also subject to reaction on multiple fronts in the late 1970s, particularly with the neoliberal resurgence of the capitalist revolution inaugurated in Pinochet’s Chile, Thatcher’s Britain, and Reagan’s America. In the wake of this ‘conservative revolution’ (Garrett, 2010), social work has been bitterly criticised by some of its own scholars. Maylea (2021), for example, argues that ‘Social work has already been successfully depoliticised. It has, as a political force, already been abolished …’ (p. 4) and is consequently ‘beyond repair and must instead be pushed into the sea’ (p. 3). In contrast, we argue that social work is also contested terrain and so social work education must be radically re-envisioned within higher education as part of a broader revolutionary agenda. Simultaneously, as argued elsewhere, establishing emancipatory affinities between social work and revolution requires a critical interrogation and revisioning of the dominant constructions of both projects (Ablett and Morley, 2019, p. 345).

Contemporary contexts and the need for progressive revolution Increasing division, inequality, and precarity A revolutionary agenda is necessary in contemporary capitalist societies (not just the terrains of higher education and social work) because despite all ameliorative efforts our world is increasingly more divided, exploitative, and precarious for the oppressed. Since the 1990s, there has been rising income inequality, with the wealth gap increasing for over 70% of the worlds’ population (United Nations World Social Report, 2020). Wealth inequality (in private assets) has widened in both rich and poor nations (see Piketty and Saez, 2014), while there has also been growth in the absolute number of people in poverty below US$7.40 per day, the amount estimated for ‘basic nutrition and

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normal … life expectancy’ (Hickel, 2019). Clearly, the capitalist system is failing human and ecological wellbeing, making the case to find systemic alternatives, pressing. Neoliberalism, as the discursive articulation of capitalism, has involved the adoption of corporate business practices in public education, health, and welfare, where economic ‘efficiencies’ are prioritised over all other goals (Fraser and Taylor, 2016). Three decades ago, Pusey (1991) recognised that to achieve this ‘transformation’ a paradigm shift was necessary. Part of neoliberalism’s successful takeover of policymaking has been its expedient usefulness in reducing complex social and economic problems to pseudo-universal statements about individualistic human behaviour (Barnes et al., 2018, p. 5). As suggested in our later discussion, these neoliberal practices are now so embedded that radical change is required to resurrect the de-commodified value of public goods, intrinsic to education and social work. Unfortunately, neoliberalism is a crucial part of the contemporary context for education, health, and welfare practice (Bay, 2019), and has significant consequences for subjectivity. Neoliberalism has successfully infiltrated so many aspects of our lives, and for so long now that younger generations, including many social work students, have no lived experience of life, work, and education beyond efficiency metrics and the injunction for individuals to continually selfoptimise in capitalist terms. Sugarman (2015) examines how psychologists have been implicated in the promotion of a neoliberal governmental subjectivity with people affected by social anxiety. Bay (2019) contends that social workers are also inclined to promote an entrepreneurial subjectivity with clients, especially through their surveillance of clients’ conduct deemed unproductive [to capitalism]. Capitalism, the climate emergency and climate injustice Global capitalism has accelerated climate change in spite of more than four decades of climate science warnings of the dangers of greenhouse gas emissions and global warming, and the risks to public health, biodiversity, and extreme weather events (Peterson et al., 2008; Taylor, 2014). Under capitalism, the environment holds no economic value unless commodified through human labour and sold onto the market, through for example, farming, logging, mining, and tourism. By only valuing financial profit and defining progress solely in economic terms (rather than social, cultural, and environmental progress), environmental regulations are usually cast as ‘green tape’ that gets in the way of ‘progress’ (see for example Shapiro, 2011). ‘Alternative solutions’ can only be countenanced if they too are marketized. These may then be promoted as ‘innovative’, as for example in the case of ‘sustainable developers’ who see no contradiction between unrestricted capital accumulation and environmental sustainability (Foster and Clark, 2009). Business as usual now means that we are facing a climate emergency of catastrophic proportions (Hansen, 2007; Ripple et al., 2019). In the latest

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Intergovernmental Panel on Climate Change Report (2021) climate change is affecting every country in the world, from dangerous rising temperatures but also changing rainfall patterns involving disasters from floods, droughts, ocean acidification, thawing glaciers, and rising sea levels. It is also clear that poorer communities are not only more exposed to climate change induced disasters (Islam and Winkel, 2017), they are likely to be given less state support. To quote Alston (2015, p. 356): ‘Those most vulnerable and therefore most affected tend to be living in poverty, in unstable conditions, with limited livelihood options, existing food and water security issues, poor services and supports and low levels of political power’. COVID-19: We are (not) all in this together COVID-19 has similarly exacerbated structural inequalities and made life much harder for many populations, especially groups already living below the poverty line; people who find accessing affordable housing and medical services difficult, and who are unable to ‘work from home’ or take leave from work without the risk of losing their jobs (Amadasun, 2020; Bowleg, 2020; Walter-McCabe, 2020). In the Australian COVID-19 context, state authorities such as the police, army, and health officials, have responded in gendered, classed, and racialized ways, (Team and Manderson, 2020). For example, in 2020 the Federal Australian government provided generous Jobkeeper payments to private businesses to stay afloat (Craig and Churchill, 2021). However, the arts and higher education sectors were actively excluded from the scheme (Richardson and Denniss, 2020); two sectors known to contribute to a critical citizenship more likely to engage in political participation (Perrin and Gillis, 2019). Businesses that significantly increased their profits because of Jobkeeper overpayments during 2020 have not been expected to pay it back. Meanwhile, ongoing attempts are being made to recoup small amounts of ‘overpayment’ from lowincome citizens (Henriques-Gomes, 2021), who have also been targeted in heavy-handed lockdown and surveillance responses (see Team and Manderson, 2020). Vaccine access has also been differential with Indigenous Australians, seniors, and people with disabilities (especially those with compromised immune systems) experiencing insufficient access (Knaus, 2021). Right-wing populism In so many Western nations there has been a sharp rise in right-wing dystopian ideas and activism (Ife, 2018), much of it linked to anti-immigration sentiments regarding people of colour, and internationally networked affiliate groups to mobilise xenophobia and scapegoat victims and push public to the right (Hogan and Haltinner, 2015). Many of these groups are also implicated in climate change denial, spreading fear, and disinformation amongst precariously employed, regional communities hit by the decline of carbon-based industries (with no transition plan) to block meaningful action on climate justice. Throughout COVID-19, we have also witnessed an

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unforeseen contest of ideas between science and right-wing populism; polarising views on vaccination and eroding trust in any collectivist health measures. Clearly, education has a vital, as yet unfulfilled, role to play here in imparting a critical scientific literacy to the public. A revolutionary alternative is therefore urgently needed, but fraught with barriers to success. As Kamali and Jönsson (2019, p. 294) observe ‘[t]he neoliberal capitalist system is not capable of solving challenging [enduring] socio-economic, political and ecological problems’ (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019, p. 294), hence we must consider alternatives to neoliberal capitalism. However, no social alternatives will succeed without an alternative education system and pedagogy. Education and the formation of a revolutionary consciousness? Education can make an important contribution to critiquing existing conditions and producing revolutionary consciousness (Freire, 1970; McLaren, 1998), which is essential to catalysing and shaping revolutionary change. However, Giroux (2011, p. 4) argues that education must not be reduced to a job pathway or profit generator, (as advocated by neoliberal capitalism), but rather conceived as fundamental ‘for creating the formative culture of beliefs, practices and social relations that enable individuals to wield power, learn to govern and nurture a democratic society that takes equality, justice, shared values and freedom seriously’. Within this vision of education, critical pedagogies are deployed to foster transformative learning involving critical thinking; the questioning of power and authority; analysing and challenging dominant power structures and relations; deconstructing language; and critical reflection (Giroux, 2011; Kellner, 2001; Morley et al., 2020a). In this sense, education imparts the skills and knowledge aimed at producing ‘critical agents’ who can build a ‘formative culture that is indispensable to [creating] a democratic society’ (Giroux, 2011, p. 4; see also Morley and Ablett, 2020). Education, informed by critical pedagogy is powerfully positioned to promote counter-hegemonic thinking, and can therefore potentially disrupt established power. Brookfield (2005, p. 7) argues that a primary goal of critical education is to ‘prompt social and political change, often of a revolutionary nature’ (Brookfield, 2005, p. 7). In this perspective, Giroux (2014, p. 34) describes universities as ‘one of the few public spheres left where people can learn the knowledge and skills necessary to allow them to think critically and hold power and authority accountable’. For this reason, formal educational institutions, including universities, have been acutely attacked in the societal-wide destruction of social welfare and democracy (Hil, 2012). One effective strategy to arrest the counter-hegemonic potential of higher education, for example, is to consistently underfund universities, which has resulted in their corporatisation or privatisation (Hil, 2012). This neoliberal revolution profoundly stifles the critical potential of education to contribute to a progressive revolutionary transformation. Accordingly, we argue the case for a revolutionary agenda in higher education that combines symbiotic, ruptural,

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and interstitial practices to confront the neoliberal state and augment the development of a radically just and democratic alternative. The neoliberal revolution in higher education The neoliberal revolution has fundamentally transformed university education, conscripting its core teaching and research priorities (that might potentially contribute to a democratic society), into the production of ‘academic capitalism’ (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019, p. 298; see also; Fenton, 2014; Fraser and Taylor, 2016; Hil, 2012). In Australia, this means attracting international students, who pay absorbent fees – about $37 billion annually (Australian Bureau of Statistics, 2020) to essentially subsidise the higher education sector. The necessity to attract the international student market means universities must perform well in competitive league tables that are linked to research rankings. The metrics that inform the league tables denigrate an enormous amount of critical scholarship and directly undermine academic freedom (Morley et al., 2017). Research is organised to serve corporate and commercial interests, rather than a wider public good. Scholarship involving critique of existing social arrangements is discouraged while attracting patents and commericialising knowledge is valorised (Morley et al., 2017; Fraser and Taylor, 2016). And, while universities increasingly instruct academics to pursue competitive research grant (funding) over all other academic activities, additional teaching is given as punishment for those who are not deemed research active (Hil, 2012). Since critically oriented publication output and unfunded research are systematically invisibilised, academic workloads explode, leaving little time and energy to foster transformative pedagogy or undertake research that will contribute to forming a critical consciousness. The multi-pronged attacks include the erosion of critical thinking and critical analysis from teaching (Garrett, 2010; Morley et al., 2017; Reisch, 2013), which is particularly devastating for social work, as a profession that claims to be valuedriven and social-justice-oriented. As Davies and Bansel (2010, p. 5) state neoliberalism ‘systematically dismantles the will to critique’. Without the capacity for critique a ‘culture of conformity’ (Williams, 2016, p. 55) is created, making it more difficult to think beyond current arrangements and imagine alternatives (Morley, 2019). Brookfield (2005, pp. 172–3) notes that education without criticality leads to a ‘decline in originality of thought and decision [and] inevitably works to kill individual conscience and with it the possibility of morally inspired revolution’ (Brookfield, 2005, pp. 172–3). Neoliberal education, on the other hand, reproduces hegemonic thinking that results in social workers who enact the dictates of the current system and lack frameworks to develop a revolutionary consciousness (Brookfield, 2005; see also Garrett, 2010; Fenton, 2014; Preston and Aslett, 2014; Kamali and Jönsson, 2019). Such social workers uncritically accept the neoliberal individual responsibilisation doctrine, which reinvents structural problems as the fault of the victim (Reisch, 2013; Fenton, 2014) and masks the need for social change. Within this context, social workers, especially those accustomed to periods of relative regime stability, will

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be ill-prepared to comprehend, let alone respond effectively to the needs of their constituencies in facing the increasing challenges and crises identified earlier. Technicist (or technique-driven) teaching supports this depoliticisation of social problems and the diminution of social work education by focusing on the acquisition of technical competence and decontextualised skills about how to regulate marginalised ‘others’ (Morley et al., 2017; Fenton, 2014; Giroux, 2011; Garrett, 2010; Macfarlane, 2016). As Kamali and Jönsson, 2019, p. 300) observe: ‘If critical and radical curricula have been marginalised for a long time, they are now openly considered as ‘non-scientific’ and, in some cases, even dangerous and “radicalising”’. While critical social workers have long argued that social work education must resist technicism and aim to equip workers with a more political and critical analysis of their context (Garrett, 2010; Fenton, 2014; Preston and Aslett, 2014; Giroux, 2014; Fraser and Taylor, 2016; Swift et al., 2016; Morley et al., 2017; Cleary, 2019), we have rarely explored the possibility of revolutionary transformation. The parallel managerial extension of the neoliberal revolution means that academic roles are now overburdened with significant amounts of extraneous administrative work. This orchestrates time poverty among academics, many of whom, feel too overwhelmed to resist, and too overworked to pursue a revolutionary change agenda as part of their academic work. As Morley et al. (2017) comment: ‘Academics subject to this managerial regime are time poor and operate in a culture of perpetual audits and reviews, mediated by templates, and have reduced discretion to develop creative or rigorous teaching practices’. Such managerialism has led universities to become instruments of heteronomous rule. As Kamali and Jönsson (2019) state: Given that universities ‘have been significant actors in the scientification of capitalism, racism and colonialism … any struggle against global, national and local inequalities should include a radical restructuring of the processes of knowledge production and education’. Talkin’ ’bout a revolution – Beyond capitalism and its traditional alternatives Since the global financial crisis of 2008, both the critique of capitalism and positing of social alternatives have been ‘mainstreamed’ (Monticelli, 2018). Critiques and ‘utopian’ proposals from movements such as Occupy to the Extinction Rebellion emerge not only from the failures of capitalism but also its traditional alternatives in social democratic reformism and revolutionary Marxism, both of which rely enormously on top-down, state power (statism) to succeed, with scant regard for participation from below. These ‘alternatives’ also share with capitalism, an environmentally unsustainable logic of development, that likewise needs to be transcended. Beyond Marxism and social democracy, there have always been non-statist revolutionary traditions in anarchism, syndicalism, council communism, and libertarian socialism. In the latter, Cornelius Castoriadis (1990, p. 130), exemplifies attempts to redefine revolution by rejecting its equation with ‘barricades, violence, bloodshed, and so on’, in seizing state power to enforce change

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from above. Instead, he argues ‘revolution aims at transforming society through the autonomous action of people and at establishing a society organised to promote the autonomy of all its members’ (Castoriadis, 1987, p. 95); i.e., ‘the explicit self-institution of society by [the] collective, lucid, democratic activity’ (Castoriadis, 1990, p. 128) of the majority from below. However, these non or post-Marxist revolutionary traditions were often marginalised by their statist competitors and, with few exceptions, unable to articulate compelling links between their proposed utopias and viable, popular strategies for achieving them. We concur with the radically democratic redefinition of revolution proposed by Castoriadis, but believe this requires further elaboration in terms of emancipatory strategies and destinations. For this, we draw ideas from the radical sociologists, John Holloway and Eric Olin Wright around notions of ‘interstitial revolution’ or the combination of interstitial, symbiotic and ruptural strategies in constituting revolutionary praxis. Against the Leninist idea of a professional revolutionary elite seizing state power on behalf of the oppressed, Holloway (2002) advocates interstitial revolutions waged ‘against and beyond the state’ in struggles for the social recognition of creative ‘human doing’ outside the logic of capital (Holloway, 2002, p. 29). This means struggling to expand and value social practices that have not been commodified, thereby creating ‘cracks’ (as ‘ice-breakers’) within the capitalist system as spaces where interstitial revolutions can commence. Central to these revolutions is the practice of ‘prefigurative’ politics or constructing and replicating in the ‘here and now’ the sorts practices and institutions we would want to see in a future emancipatory society, rather than deferring them until after a seizure of state power. Wright (2010, p. 321) characterises interstitial transformation as a ‘process of metamorphosis in which relatively small transformations cumulatively generate a qualitative shift in the dynamics and logics of a social system’. He also provides examples of these ‘real utopian’ innovations in worker cooperatives, public libraries, eco-communities, fair trade networks and experiments in participatory budgeting, basic income schemes, and solidarity economies. While supporting such activities, Wright (2018, p. 498) is more sceptical than Holloway that an exclusively interstitial strategy, by-passing the state and building alternative institutions, would of itself transform capitalism because once it reached a point of threatening the dominant order, it ‘would simply be crushed’. Wright’s own theory employs the interstitial strategy to decentre the traditional binary in anticapitalist politics of reform or revolution, replacing it with a model of three ‘strategic logics’ of transformation, consisting of ruptural, symbiotic, and interstitial strategies. He suggests a combination of these is more likely to achieve successful transformations but can never guarantee it. Unlike the interstitial strategy (discussed above), ruptural strategies involve direct confrontations with state power aimed at abolishing oppressive structures and rapidly creating new emancipatory institutions once total victory is achieved (Wright, 2015). Symbiotic strategies by contrast involve building broad, cross-class alliances for social reforms within the existing system that

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solve practical problems for sections of the dominant classes while simultaneously empowering wider sections of the public (i.e., the politics associated with social democracy). While each of these strategies has its own logic and limits, Wright urges anti-capitalist activists to view them as potentially synergistic repertoire for understanding and enacting social transformation. Those committed to revolutionary social change will necessarily privilege ruptural and interstitial strategies because any protraction of oppression is intolerable, and the building of emancipatory relations cannot wait. However, distaining all symbiotic alliances and reforms is self-defeating if they can progress the struggle. Rather, what is needed is a creative and experimental openness to diverse forms of democratic participation and politics.

The democratic university? The transcendence of capitalism and systemic oppression for Wright (2019), requires: 1) cogent ethical and analytical critique of the existing system; 2) coherent alternatives; 3) strategies for transition; and 4) the identification of sources of agency. Despite scepticism of a ‘system-wide’ rupture successfully producing an emancipatory outcome in the present conjuncture, Wright (2010, p. 308) argued that ‘more limited forms of rupture in particular institutional settings may be possible’. Accordingly, we argue the case for a revolutionary agenda in higher education with hybrid combinations of Wright’s strategic logics to counteract the neoliberal state. Such an agenda aims to enable universities to deliver the public goods with which they are charged: advanced education and the pursuit of truth through free enquiry, which in turn serve the broader purpose of ‘expanding democracy’ as the Vice Chancellor of the Australian National University recently argued (Schmidt, 2021). Before considering strategies, a broad sketch of the destination, of democratic higher education and universities is necessary. The envisaged transformation pertains to both the role of the university in society and its internal governance. In contrast to the neoliberal university, we argue that a free, egalitarian, and democratic society will be best served by universities that are likewise egalitarian and democratically self-governing communities of learners, researchers, and their supporters (Dalie et al., 2015; Gagnon, 2020). Enrolment access to such universities should be freely available to all who pass the academic entry requirements; and given universal access is for the common good, funding must likewise be public, and needs based. The predatory reliance on overseas student fees should likewise be replaced by policies based on reciprocal international solidarity and, where requested, aid. Many universities’ lectures should also be open to the public. In addition to imparting specialist bodies of knowledge and skill, universities would also equip all students with the capacity to become critical citizens for a just and sustainable democracy. Leaving decisions about curricula to those with disciplinary expertise, democratic universities should be most accountable to the majority of their proximate constituents, in addition to the public (typically via parliamentary representation) on the governing body.

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Models of democratic governance vary but Gagnon (2020) proposes a tricameral model, which identifies three constituencies without which a university cannot exist: the faculty staff; the students; and the wider community. Each would have its own representative body, with administrative support and participate equally in the governing body, which would appoint all senior officers. Direct election of senior positions on a fixed-term basis by the constituents they represent, such as staff electing deans and an advocate (like ‘rectors’ in ancient universities) elected by the students onto the senior executive, should also be instituted where appropriate. Student and staff representation on an elective basis would be in the majority on all major committees, reporting to the governing body. In the current context, democratic universities driven by emancipatory values, educational principles, and collegial practices, (rather than corporate ones), are unlikely to emerge from symbiotic reforms alone. However, this need not preclude pursuing reforms within the existing system as interim or transitional measures within a broader praxis.

Democratic revolution in higher education and revolutionary critical pedagogy? Symbiotic moves Ruptural Marxist–Leninist revolutionaries have often spurned symbiotic ‘reformism’ (seeking reforms within the dominant system), arguing that such ameliorative measures distract from and dilute the need for more fundamental change. However, critical social work scholar Paul Michel Garrett (2018, p. 74, italics in original) says Marx, ‘saw no contradiction in pursuing reform and revolution: the two were, for him, dialectically related and there are no indications that he perceived meaningful reform as diluting the possibility of revolution’. He cites the example of Marx campaigning for parliamentary reform in factory legislation, which may well be instructive for how contemporary activists approach the pursuit of fundamental change in the higher education system. Free education exists in many European social democracies, but higher education in most Anglophone countries (as noted earlier) is increasingly commodified, research is marketised, and students reduced to customers (Hil, 2012; Morley et al., 2017). Currently, the ambitions of mainstream political parties in most Western polities remain low in regard to expanding the role of universities in fostering an egalitarian and democratic society. Furthermore, most have even less interest in expanding democratic accountability within the internal governance of such institutions. However, in Europe, Latin America, ‘ancient’ universities deeply entrenched traditions of collegial and elective governance, still exist. Such universities might provide precedents for change. In our view, there are many issues around which mobilisation has already begun to, or could, occur in reversing neoliberal trajectories. One issue that many social democratic, Green and some centrist parties are amenable to, for example, is promoting equal access, regardless of the

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socio-economic background of students, to a quality education system. The greatest obstacle to this is cost, both for living expenses and course delivery. So, calls for a free, post-secondary education remain at least latently on the agenda for all societies where the need for an educated workforce to meet changing social and economic needs is recognised. Australia provides an example of a country in which free tertiary education was introduced by a reforming government in 1972 but recommodified via a deferred fee-payment scheme by a successor Labour government in 1989, enabling market forces to dominate the sector. Socialist and Greens activists have struggled to re-visit this issue but funding without major changes in government revenue arrangements, in a highly tax-averse culture, hampers these efforts. Nevertheless, in New Zealand a reforming Labour government, was able to institute a ‘free first year’ for university students in 2018 in a partial rollback of a loans system. The government hoped this equity measure would expand the popularity of free tertiary education and leverage its extension in 2022 but this is now on hold in the wake of COVID-19 (Ross, 2020). This provides an example of a reform that can potentially empower sections of society (mainly Indigenous and working-class people) with restricted access to higher education, but at the same time benefits dominant groups like employers accessing the widest range of applicants. Given that more equitable models with virtually free education exist, there is realistic space for activism, which may serve for training activists in symbiotic, ruptural, and interstitial strategies (Aitchison, 2011). Likewise, in the past 30 years of neoliberal revolution and reform in higher education, the situation inside universities reflects the wider corporatisation of society, with decisive shifts towards managerial rather than democratic governance, where the transnational corporation appears to be the ideal organisational model. What this creates is a command-and-control hierarchical institution, where a small, over-paid elite, supported by non-academic managers and administrators on short-term contracts, conduct all the strategic, operational, and business planning for the institution with negligible accountability. These bodies set not only budgets, but the educational and research ‘standards’, in which the views of academics, students, and community stakeholders are subjugated. However, given multiple corporate failures and scandals in the business world, there is no evidence that an unaccountable managerial elite can achieve better outcomes for higher education than a democratically accountable institution (Murray et al., 2013, p. 11). A legislative campaign for reforming university governance structures could commence with the issue of excessive executive remuneration packages for senior management. Australia’s public universities, have some of the highest paid Vice-Chancellors in the world, where most earn more (sometimes twice the salary) of Prime Ministers. This is obnoxious to most of the Australian public. The senior management structure of most Australian universities is extremely costly and ‘bloated’ in terms of administrative, marketing, buildingconstruction, and special project budgets, while simultaneously demanding austerity from Faculties or Schools when it comes to paying for sessional teaching and marking, where wage theft is not uncommon (Cahill, 2020). This

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makes universities easy targets for public and government scorn when such managements plead for much needed money to conduct their core functions of teaching and research. Meanwhile the need to pay sessional staff has ballooned under a highly casualised sector, (the largest after hospitality and retail) (Hil, 2012) in which more than 40000 (or one in five) jobs in the tertiary education sector have disappeared since the onset of the pandemic (Duffy, 2021). The campaign for change begins with critiques that translate into actions. Gagnon (2020) says we must find ways to activate ‘the greatest number of those who find value in and who make up the university’. This begins by articulating the problem, promoting conversation, engaging in critical analyses, and forming counter-proposals to inform wider actions. The initial actions can start within the system, activating collective forums like student, union, and public meetings, but must not end there. Such campaigns will entail lobbying of politicians and university councils, pamphlets and position papers, blogs and videos, and internet petitions and protest actions. However, without a win on demands, reform initiatives stall and negotiations break down as participants encounter ‘bad faith’. At this point, activists will either withdraw, deferring demands to an indefinite future, or consider alternative pathways, including the escalation of confrontational tactics typically (but not exclusively) associated with ruptural transformations (Aitchison, 2011, p. 435). Ruptural moves Ruptural revolutionary strategies build capacity for direct confrontation with the state or a major institution thereof, aiming to replace them with a new order or institution. Such strategies have been successful in terms of progressive gains but often come at a high cost with variable benefits. Direct confrontations with the state or powerful institutions typically require substantial popular support, alliances, organisation, and militant actions. In 2010, the tactic of occupations re-emerged in the United Kingdom with considerable impact, starting at the University College of London as part of the broader opposition to Government education funding cuts and spread rapidly to over 50 other campuses (Aitchison, 2011). While that wave was unable to prevent cuts and fees hikes, it arguably trained a new generation of activists in direct action. In 2018, in concert with a national union action against staff superannuation cuts, students had far more success in using occupations to leverage university administrations into stopping accommodation rent hikes and in some cases pressuring some Vice-chancellors to speak out against the further commercialisation of higher education (Davison, 2018). Substantial direct action on educational issues was also seen in Australia with students and academic staff, participating in escalating campaigns around the proposed uncapping of tertiary tuition fees, where students picketed the Prime Ministers office in May 2017 (Riordan, 2017) and achieved the defeat of contentious legislation in the Federal parliament National Tertiary Education Union (MacDonald, 2017). Morley (2019) describes how she was able to link critical social work education to fostering students’ participation in activism arising from

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these campaigns. However, (as discussed below) there is much scope for this kind of change strategy to be further developed throughout formal education. While impactful in the above example, a problem for ruptural revolutionaries is the challenge of scaling up to the systemic level, especially when conditions are not favourable for systemic rupture. Direct action in these circumstances can alienate and polarise other participants, weakening mass support. (Aitchison, 2011). In such circumstances interstitial strategies can provide a viable way forward. Interstitial moves For the interstitial revolutionary, the journey is just as important as the destination. The democratic forums and practices invented in a militant campaign may prefigure in incipient form the institutions that the movement wants to build more fully in the new order (Monticelli, 2018). In higher education, a novel institutional form that progressive social movements have instituted in a variety of struggles is the ‘free university’ as a counterpoint to the neoliberal capitalist university. Erdem (2020, p. 316, citing Westendorf et al., 2012, pp. 4–5) defines the ‘free university … [as] a space created by a community for the sharing of knowledge … [It is] a space in which knowledge and ideas can be freely shared among equals. This space is not given: it has to be established and occupied’. These initiatives are typically brought into being as part of the consciousness-raising efforts of social movements or local communities (Erdem, 2020); and offer a form of education that places social transformation at the centre of its democratic form and critical pedagogy. They are usually established on a voluntary basis outside the existing system of higher education and do not offer degrees but are open to everyone, teaching courses in a wide range of subjects. Most are run free of charge (or very low cost) to learners but attempt to recompense teachers out of voluntary donations when learners can afford to pay (Lazarus, 2013). The teachers are normally scholars within the higher education system, who offer their services to make cracks in the privatisation of knowledge and for people to experience a de-commodified education. Fern Thomsett (2016), one of the founders of the Brisbane Free University, argues that it is mistaken to accept the ‘inside/outside’ division between free universities and the formal system: ‘Increasingly, I envision possibilities for change within conventional universities along similar (interstitial) lines’. She also concludes that free universities are not ‘the’ solution to the crisis in higher education but ‘no single thing can be – but they might be one important, if oddly-shaped, piece of the puzzle’. In other words, if we want a revolution in higher education, we will need to engage in all forms of struggle: involving symbiotic, ruptural. and interstitial strategies. Moreover, those of us engaged in higher education for professions like social work need to do this self-consciously and explicitly in our pedagogy within the spaces that remain available, no matter how marginal. Leading social work educators, Gurnam Singh and Stephen Cowden (alongside others) have been

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instrumental in developing the free university network in the UK. And Singh has developed a series of public pod casts about critical pedagogy that are instructive for democratic educators both within and outside the University (Lazarus, 2013).

Democratic universities and a revolutionary critical pedagogy As many critical social work scholars have argued, social work education must avoid confinement to inculcating a set of government or ‘industry’ preferred techniques for the social disciplining of clients within a system that impoverishes them (see for example Morley, 2019). It needs to equip practitioners with a broad critical knowledge of the welfare system, and the social, political, and economic contexts within which they shall practice, while attempting to make positive differences in people’s lives (Reisch, 2013; Garrett, 2010; Hanesworth, 2017; Morley et al., 2020b; Fraser and Taylor, 2016). Central to this is an understanding of power and social change, not simply as an intellectual curiosity but as a something they must constantly interrogate and reshape in practice contexts. Social work education that equips practitioners to be champions for emancipatory change alongside their constituents, needs to be ‘joiners’ fostering other joiners of advocacy groups, communities, unions, social, and political movements that struggle for social and environmental justice. The gap between mainstream ‘practice’ and ‘activism’, needs to be bridged in such education (Baines, 2017; Morley, 2019) and critical pedagogies are essential to this mission (see for example Ablett and Morley, 2020; Morley, 2020; Morley and Ablett, 2020; Morley et al., 2020b). Some call for an activist pedagogy (Preston and Aslett, 2014), and others argue that nothing less than a revolutionary critical pedagogy will do. (See for example McLaren, 1998.) This kind of pedagogy explicitly fosters ‘a revolutionary agenda for challenging inside and outside the classroom … the effects and consequences of the new capitalism’ (McLaren, 1998, p. 435), and other intersecting forms of oppression including colonialism, patriarchy, racism, heteronormativity, ableism. and ecocide. A revolutionary pedagogy: creates an awareness that we live in a world of revolutionary change and that another, better society is possible; that there are alternatives to the current order; and that we all have an important role in contributing to that change. It also requires, educators. and students to question their own positioning, while supporting decolonisation of the current system and organised efforts to radically transform it (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019). Hence, theories of fundamental change, such as those posited by Holloway (2002) and Wright (2010) that critique capitalism and systemic oppression, outline social alternatives, clarify strategic options. and identify sources of collective agency, are essential to the pedagogy of critical social work. Without a revolutionary pedagogy promoting revolutionary consciousness and praxis amongst learners, McLaren (1998) believes critical educators will be domesticated, depoliticised. and ineffectually flounder on the edges of the dominant system, without clear alternatives or direction. It also follows that without radically democratic pedagogies, there will be no democratic universities.

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Conclusion This chapter has highlighted the urgent need for progressive revolution and identified strategies to achieve a radical democratic alternative to global capitalism – a system that keeps feeding violent ideological, cultural, and religious conflicts, abrogating democracy and exploiting nature to the point of ecocide – all now compounded by a global pandemic. These conditions create unacceptable divisions and oppress most of humanity. We concur with Kamali and Jönsson (2019, p. 306) who argue that ‘The social work profession needs a global reorganisation, with the incorporation of, and adaptation to, radical and revolutionary knowledge, positioning and action’ requiring a ‘critical and reflexive position [to] promote revolutionary actions’. Education is essential to this transformation, and so critical social work educators must concentrate on the dual role of higher education in both reproducing hegemony, while simultaneously providing one potential (and indispensable) medium, to build a critical-revolutionary consciousness that is ‘capable of awakening critical and imaginative’ alternatives in the struggle for an emancipatory rather than authoritarian future (Giroux, 2020, p. xxii). This revolutionary consciousness will not arise in a vacuum and the institutional space for it in higher education is besieged. Therefore, we support the calls for a progressive revolution in higher education, including social work education. This means that beyond the politics of reforms within the existing system, contemporary revolutionary praxis must creatively combine ruptural interventions that attempt to break with oppressive features of the dominant order, and interstitial strategies that create exemplars of an alternative order in the present. Critical social workers can play a modest role in facilitating this praxis, beginning with education. As Gray and Webb (2013, p. 10) suggest, given the stakes are so great, we need to organise ‘a renewed commitment to a progressive agenda for the profession and a resurgent wave of militant thinking aimed at articulating a renewed set of political alternatives’. Now is the time for revolution in higher education, social work and the wider society.

Acknowledgements The authors wish to kindly acknowledge Huana (Viviana) Wei and Yuhe Jiang who assisted with some of the literature used in this chapter. We would also thank Matthew Harcus of QUT for his editorial assistance on the final draft.

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Anger and Social Work Paul Michael Garrett

Introduction A few years ago, the reviewer of a social policy book that I had written explained that they always ‘look forward to reading’ my work because I write with ‘attitude’. This ‘attitude’ appeared to hinge of the fact that my contributions and arguments are always ‘well-formed’, ‘insistent’ and ‘slightly angry’. I welcomed the review, but the reference to my alleged anger left me feeling oddly ruffled and vaguely offended. Moreover, given the themes addressed in my book, a measured degree of anger was surely justified (Garrett, 2004). Why did this reference leave me feeling so? More fundamentally, what work is discursively performed by suggesting that an individual or group is angry? My intention in referring to this review is not to remain locked within a personal or solipsistic framework. Not infrequently, exchanges circulating around anger within social work arenas tilt toward ‘anger management’ and the disciplining of anger. Perhaps, on occasions, there is recognition that harm may result if anger is repressed. Embedded in Freudian and Neo-Freudian approaches, this is not ‘politicised anger at injustice that is encouraged, but a “harmless” (re) direction of angry feelings so that individual resolution can quickly ensue’ (Holmes, 2004, p. 126). However, a broader exploration of anger may be warranted because this emotion is so much to fore in contemporary politics and social life. John Clarke (2020), focussing on the politics of the Right and those British voters opting to leave the European Union, refers to the ‘angry politics’ of our ‘turbulent times’. A not entirely dissimilar affective vibe might also be related to the support accorded Trump in the US; reflecting, but also generating and orchestrating, bitter, aggrieved and resentful anger propelled him into the White House (Hochschild, 2016; Boler and Davis, 2021). Nonetheless, we need to acknowledge that anger has also furnished a foundation for a more progressive politics of dissent and this has been reflected in the actions of the #Me Too and Black Lives Matters movements whose reform projects are increasingly likely to impact on social work and social welfare provision (Garrett, 2021; see also Kay and Banet-Weiser, 2019; Taylor, 2021; Wood, 2019). The noun anger is defined by the Oxford English Dictionary (OED) as a ‘strong feeling of displeasure, dissatisfaction, or annoyance, generally combined DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-4

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with antagonism or hostility towards a particular cause or object; the state of experiencing such feelings; wrath, rage, fury’. Lyman (2004, p. 134) reminds us that the etymological roots of the word anger refer ‘to “affliction”, “grief” and the feeling of “strangling”’. The word, largely associated with social misery, had a rather different inflection that from that associated with our present day understanding in that it described an experience of ‘suffering and loss’ and not failure to exercise emotional control and to let loose aggressive behaviour. This older meaning, according to the OED, was present in Scottish usage where anger connoted a ‘feeling or state of distress; sorrow, anguish; trouble, suffering, affliction’. Seemingly absent here is the desire for what Martha Nussbaum appears to regard as inherent in anger, the desire for retribution and what she often terms ‘payback’. Anger is, of course, a ‘complex emotion that has both cognitive and visceral properties’ and philosophers have ‘long argued that there are morally right and morally wrong ways for us to express our anger’ (Jagmohan, 2020, p. 40). Some believe that the ‘world would be better without anger, while others believe a certain form of anger is part of an appropriate moral response to wrongdoing’ (Na’aman, 2020, p. 71). In what follows, therefore, we will initially look at condemnations of anger within the philosophical and religious literature. Second, we turn our attention to Nussbaum and her ideas on ‘transitional anger’. Third, the focus alters and we briefly have regard to ‘symbolic violence’ and ‘epistemic injustice’ both of which are insidious forms of silencing which can prompt legitimate forms of outrage and anger. The fourth part of the chapter dwells on arguments that recognise the validity and utility of ‘knowing resistant anger’ of the dominated in the struggle for social justice, even revolutionary upheavals. Fifth, we briefly discuss why a more nuanced approach to this ‘outlaw’ emotion is significant in relation to social welfare and, particularly, social work (Jaggar, 1989).

Against anger Nowadays, anger tends to be frowned upon especially if exhibited by the dominated and not the dominator. Furthermore, there exists a whole industry devoted to ‘anger management’ that is situated within, what we might term, a more encompassing ‘anti anger ideology’. To vent anger in, for example, the workplace appears to be at odds with the hegemonic vibe circulating around notions of ‘teamwork’, ‘collaboration’ and seeking to be ‘positive’. Anger appears to sully and defile the dominant affective norms and saturating ambiance promoted and encouraged by business corporations and public sector welfare and health bureaucracies crafting ‘employee relations’ and technologies of ‘human resource management’. Anger is also at odds with the enveloping, doxic imperative to extinguish ‘negativity’, to be ‘chilled’ and to ‘go with the flow’. Hence, to display anger is to act in a socially inappropriate way and to exhibit an ‘undesirable form of irrationality in need of containment and control’ (Simola, 2009: 216).

Anger and Social Work 71 Seeking to reclaim anger, many writers refer to the work of Aristotle (2009). Dominant perceptions on the purportedly destabilising and corrosive impact of anger might can be associated with ancient philosophical perspectives (Harris, 2004). There has been ‘two millennia of debates on the value of anger’ (Callard et al., 2020, p. 7). The Stoic, Seneca the Younger (4 BCE – AD 65), refers to anger as the ‘most hideous and frenzied of all emotions’. Those prone to anger are ‘devoid of self- control, forgetful of decency … closed to reason and counsel, excited by trifling causes, unfit to discern the right and true’ (Page et al., 1928, p. 107). Indeed, ‘you have only to behold the aspect of those possessed by anger to know that they are insane’ (in Page et al., 1928, p. 107). Konstan (2020, p. 101) makes the point that in the Greco-Roman world, and during the ‘classical age’ stretching from the 8th century BC to the 6th century AD, dominant perceptions of anger were socially and economically conditioned. That is to say, anger was often viewed as ‘justifiable in a ruler’. More generally, anger was perceived as ‘proper to a free citizen’ with an ‘incapacity to feel anger’ being looked upon as supine, even ‘slavish’ (Konstan, 2020, p. 101). The Homeric epics, thought to have been completed in the 8th century BCE, revolved around a kind of warrior code in which ‘fury is gloried’ (Konstan, 2020, p. 102). In our own times, this glorification of righteous rage is, of course, still conjured up in times of war or by those seeking to incite war. Not infrequently in neoliberal times, public fury is also invoked and targeted at various outsider groups and pariah populations ‘sponging’ on ‘welfare’ (Tyler, 2008). The Bible evokes God as ‘wrathful but cautions against human anger’ (Prinz, 2020, p. 57). Psalms 37 (8–11) urges that we ‘forgo rage toward evildoers and trust the Lord to mete out justice’ (Prinz, 2020, p. 57). Galen (129–210), the early Christian writer, argues that anger amounts to a ‘sickness of the soul’ and similar castigations are to be found in works by Lactantius (250–325) and Basil of Caesarea (330–379) (Konstan, 2020). Turning to the 18th century, Adam Smith (1723–1790), refers to the ‘insolence and brutality of anger’, the ‘voice’ of which was invariably ‘harsh and discordant’ (in Haakonssen, 2002, pp. 30; 43). Beyond the Western ‘canon’, the Bhagavad Gītā, written in 2 BCE, ‘describes anger as among our greatest enemies, which can lead only to delusion and despair’ (Prinz, 2020, p. 56). Buddhism regards anger as one of a trinity of three ‘mental poisons, or kleshas’ (Prinz, 2020, p. 56). Xunzi, the Confucian philosopher, maintained those who exhibit rage are likely to perish. The Holy Quran depicts Allah as ‘forgiving and forbearing’ (Prinz, 2020, p. 57). The argument here is not that critical depictions of anger are entirely without substance. Anger can be ‘unfruitful, unhealthy, or even severely problematic, depending on when and how it is experienced, understood and expressed’ (Simola, 2009, p. 220). It is, therefore, important to briefly highlight the often entangled ways that anger can – in the words of Prinz (2020) – ‘go wrong’ and become toxic. First, anger can be misattributed because I fail to see the structural cause of my problem. I might be claiming a social security benefit and become angry at the person who is dealing with my application for being, according to my perceptions, too tardy. However, the real cause of my actual cause

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of my difficulty might be that the office is insufficiently staffed to deal with the sheer numbers of applications that have been lodged. Alternatively, it might be that the outcome of my claim is dependent on algorithmic assessments and these, again because of staffing issues, are still awaiting processing by a ‘human resource’. Here it would seem that my hardships are prompted by the evolution of ‘digital welfare state’ which is shaped around neoliberal imperatives (United Nations General Assembly, 2019). Nonetheless, my anger is mistakenly targeted at the office staff who are ill-equipped and too under-resourced to be able to deal with my claim in the way I would like. Relatedly, we can perceive how some leading political actors wilfully promote the misdirection of anger. For example, in our contemporary world, it has been alleged that COVID-19 is the ‘Chinese virus’ (Rogers et al., 2020). Bourdieu and Wacquant (2001, p. 4) refer to this tactic as an attempt to put up a ‘screen discourse’ to prevent us comprehending the truth of a situation. Second, my anger might be misdirected or deflected in a way that leads me to ‘lash out’ at others. So, still brimming with anger, I might return home from the social security office and proceed to ‘take it out on’ those with whom I live. In a patriarchal world, the victims of misattributed male anger are not infrequently women and children. Mlambo-Ngcuka (2020) refers to violence against women being an ‘epidemic in all societies, without exception. Every day, on average, 137 women are killed by a member of their own family’. We also know that levels of domestic violence and sexual exploitation spike when households are placed under the increased strains’ prompted by ‘money worries’. Third, my anger might become indiscriminately encompassing. Having recognised that my delayed claim is a result of a government programme to ‘cut’ the staff in my local social security office, I might begin to direct my anger at all ‘politicians’; whereas the responsibility for my situation is attributable to a specific government intent on pursuing a specific neoliberal programme. In order to achieve its aims, it is supported by specific politicians. My anger is such that I am unable to discriminate and attack anyone within the category ‘politician’. Because of my anger, I no longer have the capacity to ‘see’ those ‘politicians’ committed to combating neoliberalism and to ensuring that there are more jobs and better staffed social security offices. Fourth, my anger might be due to a sense of misplaced entitlement. As a white male, I might feel that I deserve ‘special treatment’ on account of that status. My whole ‘habitus’ is one which is grounded, despite my objective material conditions, in my sense that I am privileged and the conduct of others should take this into account (Bourdieu, 2002). What is more, ‘I was born and bred here’ and so I become angry when people ‘not from here’ and with different coloured skin appear to have their benefit claims assessed before me. My sense of anger and outrage is, therefore, deflected in profoundly xenophobic and racist ways and I – and others such as me – may become recruitment fodder for right wing and fascist political parties intent on nurturing and orchestrating anger. Perhaps this example of anger ‘going wrong’ is especially prevalent in an era of ‘fake news’ and when we can often detect politicians of the populist Right who

Anger and Social Work 73 aspire to carefully manage and ‘curate’ ignorance (Gilroy, 2019). This type of anger might also be connected to the inclination of right-wing populists to ‘manufacture ignorance’ in order to advance their cause (Slater, 2012). Fifth, my anger might become internalised and to slowly begin to fester and entirely consume me. Because of my lack of awareness about what is going on with my claim, I might – whilst also perhaps becoming hungry on account of having no money to purchase food and a lack of wherewithal to pay fuel bills – become isolated and depressed. I fail to fully comprehend the cause of my anger and begin to despair and even consider ending my life. I may also begin to believe that it is I who am responsible for my plight. Chinese revolutionary pedagogy described this form of gnarled, personally injurious and inner-directed anger as ‘swallowed bitterness’ that can only be eradicated by my ‘speaking bitterness’ and directing my anger, along with aggrieved others, at the class enemy who is the true and authentic source of my pain and hurt (Wu, 2014).

Against the ‘garden variety’ of anger and ‘payback’: Martha Nussbaum and ‘transitional anger’ In recent years, Nussbaum has made significant contributions on anger and so it is important to briefly investige if her perspective may be helpful if helping us explore the theme in relation to social welfare and social work. Nussbaum draws on Seneca and the Stoic tradition to argue that anger is an ‘intrinsically mistaken attitude, since it is infected with a backward-looking “payback wish” that is vengeful and destructive’ (Callard, 2020, p. 13). She aspires, therefore, to reconceptualise anger in a way so as to furnish us with, what might be viewed, as a potentially purer and more morally acceptable variant of this ‘hot’ emotion. Anger ‘can be a useful wake-up call’ and it might help to kindle the motivation to address a perceived wrongdoing or injury, but it must dissolve into something that is more productive and future orientated or it will always risk giving rise to irrational, retaliatory impulses (Nussbaum, 2015, p. 55). In Anger and Forgiveness, Nussbaum (2014, p. 66) maintains that a ‘reasonable person shifts off the terrain of anger toward more productive forward-looking thoughts, asking what can actually be done to increase either personal or social welfare’. This she refers to as a ‘borderline species of anger’ that is in the process of transitioning to ‘constructive thinking’ (Nussbaum, 2015, p. 42). Seemingly, a ‘species’ lacking the defects associated with more typical forms of anger, this fleeting form of anger is termed ‘transitional anger’. According to Nussbaum (2015, p. 41), the ‘idea of payback or retribution—in some form, however subtle—is a conceptual part of anger’. When angry, so goes her reasoning, we desire to ‘payback’ those who wrong and hurt us and to have them experience ‘commensurate pain’ (Nussbaum, 2020, p. 128). Martin Luther King Jr. (1929–1968), the US Christian minister and civil rights activist provides, asserts Nussbaum, an iconic example of a figure refusing the seductive allure of ordinary or ‘(garden-variety) anger’ in favour of ‘transitional anger’ (Nussbaum, 2015, p. 54). King, she proposes, is the ‘one distinguished Western

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philosopher’ who recognises and emphasises this ‘distinction’ and who maintains that the ‘anger of people in his movement had to be purified and “channelized”’ (Nussbaum, 2020, p. 129). Despite Nussbaum’s aspiration to amplify the importance of ‘transitional’ anger, there are problems with her articulation of the concept if we begin to think about the application of her ideas within the field of social work. First, we might contend that notions such as ‘reasonable’, ‘productive’, ‘forward-looking’, ‘constructive’, ‘obsessive’ and ‘distorted’ – all central to ‘transitional anger’ – are highly subjective and contentious perceptions which can be subject to heated debate across ethical-political communities and professional fields. Second, we might question Nussbaum’s focal assertion that the desire for ‘payback’ is invariably part-and-parcel of the ordinary forms of anger that she criticises. If we think of anger as a ‘virtue’, it is not ‘inherently retaliatory or vengeful; it is not essentially tied to a brute desire for payback’ (McBride, 2018, p. 9). Most of ‘the mundane wrongs we encounter in the course of our daily lives do not prompt us to seek revenge’ (Na’aman, 2020, p. 75). We merely seek to set things right. Third, Nussbaum’s deployment of King is problematic because of her apparent reification of ‘race’. Relatedly, she is insufficiently attuned to the contextual and political aspects of the ‘I have a dream’ speech that she dwells on and how it was skilfully shaped to try and hold together an often internally fractious counter-hegemonic bloc seeking to create a more benign social and economic order (BBC News, 2003). She seems to simply assume that the imperatives of U.S. capitalism and its racialized institutional order – in the early sixties and, indeed, today – will invariably become wholly reconfigured merely on account of well-tempered and restrained demands for racial, civil and economic justice. Fourth, Nussbaum’s ‘transitional anger’ is overly reflective of dominant cultural norms laying emphasis on the ‘therapeutic’, the need to be ‘positive’ and related notions of ‘closure’. That is the say, the movement from ‘garden variety’ anger into more ‘productive’ and ‘forward-looking’ anger is very much attuned with discourses on affect which have circulated in prominent ways during the neoliberal period. In a withering critique, Lee A. McBride III (2018, p. 8) argues that Nussbaum’s preferred form of anger ‘receives approbation only if it dissipates quickly and justice is sought in a calm and nonthreatening fashion. Angry people—the sexually assaulted, the racially terrorized, the colonised—should quickly transition to compassionate hope’. Given Nussbaum’s ‘inability to see anything but compassionate hope as a rational response to unjust injury, she silences or delegitimizes those who remain angry about unjust injury’ (McBride, 2018, p. 9). McBride also detects that Nussbaum’s perspective may be politically damaging for dominated communities in that she appears to be intent on discouraging the expression of anger that is often so important in galvanising collective resistance to oppression. Anger, in this sense, ‘fortifies and emboldens those who suffer injustice … It prods them to disrupt morally abhorrent social practices’ (McBride, 2018, p. 10).

Anger and Social Work 75 Before looking in a little more detail at the ‘case’ for anger, we will briefly comment on some of the reasons that people may become angry within the domains of social welfare. In doing so, we are aided by ideas circulating around ‘symbolic violence’ and ‘epistemic injustice’ and, more generally, the social practices of silencing.

Creating anger: Annihilating, ignoring, silencing and muting Clearly, violence committed against someone can be physical and brutal; it may prompt substantial injuries and even death. Mindful of the killing of George Floyd in Minneapolis, one of the ways to silence someone is to render than breathless and thus to extinguish their life. However, other forms of violence lack a physically injurious aspect and may be insidious and much harder to discern. Such violence, which might prompt anger, can take on the character of ‘symbolic violence’ or ‘epistemic injustice’. When deployed, both function to maintain, bolster and shore up hierarchical relations and operate in the interests of the powerful (see also Kamali, 2021). According to Bourdieu, ‘symbolic violence’ helps us grasp how people respond to descriptions, labels and classifications attached to them by the powerful. Not physically violent, it still constitutes a form of violence which hurts and degrades. It achieves this by imposing the naturalness of a particular worldview reflecting an unequal social order and an asymmetrical distribution of power. As a form of diminishment and disparagement, ‘symbolic violence’ is not merely confined to language because it tends to impinge on all interactions between the dominant and the dominated. Often inseparable from enforced material poverty, ‘symbolic violence’ is not so much an ‘identifiable event or specific injury but rather a diffuse and persistent background state of affairs’ (McNay, 2014, p. 34). Relentlessly injected into everyday life, it can prompt in the victims ‘feelings of shame, boredom, hopelessness’ (McNay, 2014, p. 29). It colours the social world and distils ‘structures of feelings’ and entrenched psychological dispositions (Williams, 1977). In this way, it can be interpreted as an ‘internalized domination that renders individuals complicit with their own oppression’ (McNay, 2014, p. 37). Bourdieu (2000, p. 169) emphasises that this type of violence is all the more powerful because, often within the sphere of social welfare, it is apt to be exercised ‘invisibly and insidiously through familiarization … and prolonged experience of interactions informed by the structures of domination’. ‘Epistemic injustice’ relates to the silencing or quelling the voices of dominated individuals and groups (Kidd et al., 2019). Spivak (1998, pp. 282–3), uses the conceptualisation of ‘epistemic violence’ to evoke how marginalised or subaltern groups (e.g. illiterate peasants and the ‘lowest strata of the urban subproletariat’) are routinely silenced. Indeed, silence is a ‘condition of oppression, and part of resisting oppression is finding a voice that effectively pushes back against the weight of imposed silences’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 96). Kristie Dotson (2011) elaborates that in order for us to communicate effectively, we need listeners that are willing and able to comprehend our words,

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message and testimony. Two forms of ‘epistemic violence’ frequently occur which erode the capacity of the speaker(s) to be heard and these she terms ‘testimonial quieting’ and ‘testimonial smothering’ (see also Kamali, 2021). The former happens when an ‘audience fails to identify a speaker as a knower’ (Dotson, 2011, p. 242). Such a failure is meaningful in that a speaker requires an audience to identify, or at least recognize, them as a knower in order to legitimate their testimony. Dotson suggests that this form of non-recognition is identifiable in the accounts provided by many African American feminist scholars in the US who discuss how such women have been systematically undervalued as legitimate knowers. On account of this response, their status as a knowers is viewed as ‘less than plausible’ (Dotson, 2011, p. 242). Invariably shaping this attitude are dominant images that stigmatise AfricanAmerican women as a whole. Here, notions circulating around irredeemably ‘welfare dependent’ African-American mothers play a key role (Roberts, 2014). Drawing on the work of Patricia Hill Collins, Dotson suggests that a ‘set of stereotypes about black women serves to make the unfair treatment and negative assessments of black women appear “natural, normal, and inevitable parts of everyday life”’ (Collins in Dotson, 2011, p. 242). In this way, the testimony of such women is subjected to quieting. Once harmful consequence is that it can lead to a ‘loss of epistemic confidence’ and destabilise the sense of the self as a competent knower (Fricker, 2007, p. 49). Consequently, a person or group might find their ‘intellectual courage’ inhibited or eroded because of being routinely treated as a subject or subjects lacking in knowledge and the capacity to know (Fricker, 2007, p. 49). Such courage fulfils an important function in that the possession of it can aid perseverance and a set of convictions. The eradication of ‘intellectual courage’ can result in the elimination of oppositional intellectual currents and traditions. In terms of the main concerns of this chapter, ‘testimonial quieting’ and the associated endeavours to erode intellectual courage can also be understood as anger-producing. Attempts to silence can, of course, be extreme and result in a person being rendered inaudible and literally unable to speak (BBC News, 2020). The second type of ‘epistemic violence’ concerning Dotson is that which occurs when the speaker themselves truncates, shapes or smothers their accounts or testimony in order to ensure that it ‘contains only content for which one’s audience demonstrates testimonial competence’ (Dotson, 2011, p. 244). The speaker or speakers shapes their testimony and performs acts of self-censoring or smothering. This might occur when an individual or group speaker already recognise that their audience might find their accounts pertaining to ‘risky’ subject matter as likely to be ‘unintelligible’ (Dotson, 2011, p. 244). Historically, personal accounts of institutional sexual child abuse, for example, were often hinted at and alluded to rather than specifically named by victims (Tyrrell, 2006). In this way, the ‘risky’ nature of revelations had to incorporate a sensitivity to the fact that the perpetrators had significant volumes of ‘symbolic capital’ and were, unlike their victims, regarded as reliable and credible ‘knowers’ (Bourdieu, 1991).

Anger and Social Work 77 In emphasising the connection between ‘epistemic injustice’ and anger, Alison Bailey refers to ‘epistemic twilight zones’. These are worlds in which testimony about ‘lived experiences is repeatedly silenced, dismissed, distorted, or gas lighted’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 3). Such routinized form of erasure can, therefore, promp dulled resignation, but also anger. She suggests that a specific ‘texture of anger – a knowing resistant anger – offers marginalised knowers a powerful resource for countering epistemic injustices’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 94, original emphasis). This form of anger may become particularly significant as a way to challenge and counteract the social practices of silencing faced by particular individuals and groups. Turning to the range of silencing practices that can prompt knowing resistant anger, Bailey refers, like Dotson, to ‘testimonial quieting’ and ‘testimonial smothering’. However, she also introduces two additional forms of silencing. First, ‘pre-emptive silencing’ occurs when knowers are excluded in advance from participating in a testimonial exchange. This might include an individual or group not being asked to furnish a view or perspective despite their appearing to have relevant testimony because of their experiences of societal positioning. Historically, for example, parents were not invited to case conferences where professionals deliberated on the welfare of their children. Second, knowers might be treated as mere ‘epistemic objects, or truncated subjects’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 95, original emphasis). The relevant individuals or groups are treated in an instrumental way and are merely viewed ‘as (re) sources, from whom so-called ‘legitimate inquirers’ glean information to produce proper knowledge’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 95). Here, knowledge is being garnered or harvested in ‘support of the asker’s project’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 95, original emphasis). Perhaps, once again, child protection case conferences furnish an example of this occurring in that parents are now routinely invited to such meetings, but the desired ‘outcomes’ are frequently decided prior the arrival of their arrival by the attending professionals. Given that anger is the ‘emotion of injustice’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 93), it can often erupt when these silencing practices prevent or blunt participation. Bailey (2018, p. 97) usefully proceeds to identify two powerful modes often used to respond to the justified anger of subordinate groups and these she terms ‘tone management’ and ‘tone vigilance’. Both of these tactics seek to ‘manage resistant anger’s epistemic content’ and to restore hegemonic affective regimes within society as a whole or within particular social welfare fields. Bailey argues that ‘tone management’ erodes ‘epistemic credibility by targeting, isolating, and attempting to manage the affective content (the speaker’s manner of speaking) and the epistemic content (the message) in testimony’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 97, original emphases). Focal here is the expectation that ‘subordinated knowers’ should taper the ‘timbre of their message’ to fall insider the ‘comfort zone’ of the audience. This might entail the expectation that the aggrieved individuals or groups will express themselves in an ‘appropriate’ or ‘proper way’; voices should be ‘appropriately’ lowered and the content of their concerns must be relayed in a way that is judged as ‘reasonable’. Relatedly, any

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actions embarked on by injured or aggrieved parties must not stray onto the terrain of the ‘unacceptable’; angry protesters must not topple over the statues erected to celebrate slave owners. As Bailey (2018, p. 98) elegantly states, ‘Anger’s epistemic strength can be measured in direct proportion to the amount of energy used to contain it … There is power in the hush. The hush reasserts dominance: it restores the audience’s own epistemic and psychological comfort’. As for those who are angry, this can be a degrading and exhausting process in which they can become labelled as ‘mentally disturbed’, ambiguously ‘difficult’, ‘hyper-sensitive’, ‘immature’, ‘childish’ and ‘crazy’ because they have violated tonal decorum and dominating expectations. Outcomes, partly determined by the ‘angry person’s’ positionality and intersectional considerations, are also significant with Black men, for example, being viewed as angry and ‘aggressive’ at risk of having their lives terminated by the forces of law and order (Hackman, 2016). Alternatively, they may be met with condescending tolerance or ridicule. A second way that the powerful seek to manage anger is to maintain ‘tone vigilance’. For example, an aggrieved individual may not display any anger in giving their testimony. Nevertheless, they may be part of a group that is ordinarily characterised as prone to anger. That is to say, anger is attributed to them a priori. In a U.S. context, the poet and essayist Audre Lorde observes how African-American women are often perceived within hegemonic discourses as tending to unreasonable anger (see also Nayak, 2015). Hence, those engaging with such women must remain alert to ‘unreasonable’ and ‘unpredictable’ eruptions of anger. In such instances, listeners may ‘implicitly assign anger to speakers’ words based on their presumed and flawed ‘social identity’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 99).

Defending anger: ‘Knowing resistant anger’ ‘Knowing resistant anger’ can be a ‘transformative creative epistemic resource’ (Bailey, 2018, p. 110). Important here is the evolution of a collective understanding that there are other ways to comprehend and render intelligible anger than those suggested by the interpretation of the dominators. Anger, when better understood and collectivised, might also imbue oppressed groups and progressive social movements with renewed confidence and courage and galvanise solidarity in the struggle to overcome domination (Simola, 2009). Anger might also be a way of exposing and countering violence that is often ‘slow’, insidious – as discussed earlier – or even unrecognised by most people. This violence may be committed against the earth or against particular groups that inhabit it (Nixon, 2011). As we have seen, anger may always risk ‘going wrong’, but it can still be a valuable resource furnishing the ‘affective fuel’ or energy that unites and propels oppositional social movements and activists (Bailey, 2018, p. 113). The anger of those rendered ‘powerless is an essential voice in politics, not least because angry speech contains a claim that an injustice has been committed’ (Lyman, 2004, p. 133). Oftentimes, anger and the actions that this

Anger and Social Work 79 emotion generates dialogue, ‘new investigations’ and ‘critical research’ within a social order in which this would not have occurred if this ‘hot’ emotion had not burst into the public sphere (Jaggar, 1989, p. 167). Collectivised anger is, therefore, a form of political communication that subordinated groups – those subject to class domination and, what Bourdieu terms, ‘social suffering’ – need to retain in their repertoire. As Lyman (2004, p. 141) explains, revolutionary political movements must ‘enable unfelt or unconscious emotional responses to injustice to become conscious and articulate’ by illuminating the fact that one’s own anger is shared by other people in a similar predicament. Hence, such movements aim to amplify the message that anger is not singular, but a simmering – if not yet entirely decipherable – collective anger that has the capacity to put an end to structurally generated social suffering. A key component of Lyman’s (1981) analysis is the distinction he makes between ‘neurotic’ and ‘political’ anger. With the latter, the emphasis is not only on collectivising the anger, it there must also be an openness to critical reflection. In a similar way, a good deal of feminist literature on the ‘cultural politics of emotion’ has addressed questions related to anger (Ahmed, 2004). Indeed, feminist philosophers have become increasingly ‘attuned to the liberatory aspects of anger’ (McWeeny, 2010, p. 295). Decades ago, Alison Jaggar (1989, p. 166) observed that people who experience ‘conventionally unacceptable’ emotions – what she termed ’outlaw’ emotions – are frequently ‘subordinated individuals’ forced to ‘pay a disproportionately high price for maintaining the status quo’. Such emotions, and here we might include some forms of anger, are ‘distinguished by their incompatibility with the dominant perceptions and values’ (Jaggar, 1989, p. 166). Moreover ‘outlaw’ emotions are vital because the can be integral to in ‘developing a critical perspective on the world’ (Jaggar, 1989, p. 167). At the beginning of the 1980s, Lorde (1984) told the National Women’s Studies Association Conference that her legitimate anger was a response to the racism and sexism seemingly integral to U.S. capitalism. She also alluded to the fact that this understanding might be at odds with the dominant affective regime within the ‘closed circuits of the academy’ (Lorde, 1984, p. 127). Sustaining and collectivising anger can become one of the ways that groups can push back again the domination and the social practices of silencing. As Bailey (2018, p. 96) observes, according to Lorde, anger is a ‘justified response to the social and cultural habits, ideologies, institutions, and laws that dehumanize, erase, and do violence to her. Anger is a justified response to all subordination injuries, even epistemic ones. When a speaker’s testimony is smothered, silenced, or rendered inaudible, her anger is smothered, silenced, or rendered inaudible’. In this instance, becoming angry is bound up with a refusal to submit and to concur with the notion that some lives have more value than others. The Argentinian feminist philosopher Maria Lugones (2003) has made significant theoretical interventions on anger. Her reasoning is complex and situated within a larger conceptual paradigm that lies beyond the scope of this discussion. In broad terms, she conceptualises two types of anger: ‘first-order’

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anger and ‘second-order’ anger. The former is activated when an individual or group judges that they have been treated unfairly or unjustly in a world as it is conventionally understood and ordered. Hence, those who display anger demand to be heard and have their views and opinions taken into account within the prevailing or the ‘official world of sense’ and, what appears to be, universally accepted norms (Lugones, 2003, p. 104). ‘First-order’ angers ‘accommodate a one self/one world ontology, because the angry person attempts to fit herself into the given world by demanding respect and fair treatment from that world’ (McWeeny, 2010, p. 297). In contrast, ‘second-order’ angers are associated with Lugones’ conceptualisation that each of us is a complex composite of multiple selves moving within pluralistic, intersecting worlds. This form of anger is associated with the recognition that the ‘official world of sense’ cannot comprehend or address. Here, the angry and resisting self is one which inhabits or is reaching towards a different world. ‘Second-order’ anger is the aggrieved expression of hurt and injuries that are unintelligible within the world and symbolic order as presently constituted. It presupposes, therefore, ‘worlds of sense against which the anger constitutes an indictment or a rebellion, worlds of sense from which one needs to separate. These angers also presuppose or establish a need to speak from within a separate world of sense. Separate, that is, from worlds of sense that deny intelligibility to anger’ (Lugones, 2003, p. 105). Importantly, Lugones (2003: 105) also stresses that anger needs to be trained and modulated in a way that pays attention to how it might be experienced and perceived by others in shifting contexts. We need to think about the ‘manipulative effects of our own anger. Anger creates an environment, a context, a tone and it echoes. Anger needs to be trained but not necessarily toned down. We need to think what good the anger does us with respect to oppression’.

Discussion Primarily drawing on the, often feminist informed, sociology and philosophy literature, it has been argued that within the domains of social work and social welfare, we need to move beyond a narrow focus on the ‘management’ of anger in order to examine its histories and the social context in which it becomes animated. The problem with what I have dubbed ‘anti-anger ideology’, which is arguably hegemonic, is that it wilfully fails to critically interrogate the social and economic relations that prompt the occurrence of this emotion and it tends to result in victim-blaming. As mentioned earlier, some of the older definitions of anger which do encompass Nussbaum’s notion of ‘payback’ are significant. Such meanings that lay emphasis on the hurt and distress at the heart of anger find powerful contemporary expression in the testimonies of victims of institutionalised child abuse (Commission to Inquire into Child Abuse, 2009). In terms of modes of managing, handling and silencing particular communities, the concepts of ‘symbolic violence’ and ‘epistemic injustice’ may also assist social workers, for

Anger and Social Work 81 example, as they try to grasp what processes may be prompting legitimate anger amongst people having recourse to services. Here again, testimonies provided to abuse inquiries in relation to the practices of child removal and adoption provide copious examples of people feeling outraged that their words and perceptions have simply not been listened to and that they have been delegitimised as ‘knowers’ (Harney et al., 2020; McGettrick, 2020). Somewhat more provocatively, it might be claimed that ‘symbolic violence’ and ‘epistemic injustice’ have been structurally embedded within various institutional orders. Cognizant of many historical and contemporary practices and having regard to more encompassing definition of violence, we might suggest that social welfare and social work organisations have been, and remain, ‘institutionally violent’. This is often apparent in the way that ‘clients’ or ‘service users’ are choreographed and managed as they spend time in waiting rooms (Auyero, 2012). Bourdieu’s conceptualisation of ‘symbolic violence’ illuminates the ‘mundane nature of suffering’ reflected in petty, daily humiliations a routinized misery (McNay, 2014, pp. 34–35). Social welfare and social work organisations, frequently struggling to function in cash-starved neoliberal contexts, might even be perceived as, what we might term, ‘anger producing machines’ generating indignity and shame, but also angry dissent. Some of the silencing practices conceptualised by Bailey (2018), in her examination of anger and epistemic injustice, are also helpful in illuminating how the testimony and perceptions of particular individuals and groups are insidiously nullified or erased. An historical example relates to the treatment of socalled unmarried mothers in contact with social services. Biestek (1975 [1957], p. 25), an American Jesuit and one of the chief definers of what constitutes the philosophical foundation for social work, observes that caseworkers ‘have differed in their evaluation of the capacity of unmarried mothers, as a group, to make sound decisions. Some feel that unmarried mothers are so damaged emotionally that they are incapable of arriving at a good decision themselves’. In this way, the voices of ‘damaged’ women were eased out of the discourse which centrally concerned them and their children. Not infrequently, the use of ‘professional’ language, in child protection conferences and similar settings, continues to define, shape and represent core issues in ways that undermine the ability of parents to participate and can, of course, conjure feelings of anger. Turning to practitioners themselves, it might be suggested that they also are subjected to silencing practices. Dominant affective norms within the ‘helping professions’, undergirded by codes of ethics and systems of registration, may be associated with particular forms of ‘tone management’ and ‘tone vigilance’ which seek to quell and dissipate anger. For example, hegemonic constructions of ‘professionalism’ might be interpreted as contributing to the outlawing of this ‘hot’ emotion (Pearson, 2015). Weeks (2011, p. 74) persuasively argues that today, ‘the term “professional” refers more to a prescribed attitude toward work than the status of some work’. Relatedly, according to Foucault, ‘professionalism is in itself “a disciplinary mechanism”; associating specific practices with particular worker identities, knowledge and rules of conduct thus legitimising

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professional authority and activity’ (Powell and Khan, 2012, p. 137). Although not a focus in this chapter, such perceptions might also be linked to the work of Jacques Rancière (1999) and what he terms the ‘distribution of the sensible’ within various ‘police’ orders across society as a whole and within certain ‘professional’ niches in the fields of social welfare. As recently argued by the climate activist Greta Thunberg, the pursuance of progressive politics frequently needs to constructively use feelings of anger and outrage (BBC News, 2021). Stephane Hessel (2011), a former French Resistance fighter during the Second World War and subsequently one of the drafters of the UN Declaration of Human Rights, writes of the need for ‘outrage’ in a world in which the earth is being despoiled, human rights obliterated and the gap between the super-rich and the rest of us is magnifying at an extraordinary pace. The challenge becomes, therefore, one of trying to figure out how ‘to transcend from personal outrage to social influence and the rejection of the unacceptable through moral and ethical actions’ (Fronek and Chester, 2016, p. 165). Moreover, collective political action is vital. This understanding is reflected in, for example, the efforts of historical figures such as Frantz Fanon (1988 [1964]) who perceived how disruptive anger might be collectivised and canalised in order to aid the struggle for decolonisation and to promote more progressive forms of engagement and intervention within the field of psychiatry.

Conclusion This chapter has explored condemnations of anger within the philosophical literature. We have also highlighted problematic ideas related to Nussbaum’s concept of a purer and more ‘forward’ facing anger – what she dubs ‘transitional anger’. It has been argued that more attention needs be afforded to processes of silencing, theoretically connected to ‘symbolic violence’ and ‘epistemic injustice’, which prompt legitimate forms of and collective anger on the part of materially exploited, dominated and vilified communities. Breaking free of insular frameworks preoccupied with the management of ‘anger’, and approaching this ‘outlaw’ emotion in a more critically interrogative way, we might become conceptually better equipped to recognise the importance of ‘knowing resistant anger’. As we have seen, there are many instances in which this ‘hot’ emotion can ‘go wrong’, yet it remains politically vital in that it frequently furnishes the ‘affective fuel’ that aids in the struggle for social justice and, more broadly, revolutionary transformations.

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Anger and Social Work 85 Rancière, J. (1999 [1995]). Dis-agreement. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota. Roberts, D. E. (2014). ‘Child protection as surveillance of African American families’, Journal of Social Welfare and Family Law, 36(4), pp. 426–437. Rogers, K., Jakes, L., Swanson, A. (2020). ‘Trump defends using“Chinese Virus” label, ignoring growing criticism’, New York Times, 18 March. https://www.nytimes.com/2020/ 03/18/us/politics/china‐virus.html Simola, S. K. (2009). ‘Anti-corporate activist anger’, Society and Business Review, 4(3), pp. 215–230. Slater, T. (2012). ‘The myth of “Broken Britain”’, Antipode, 46(4), pp. 948–969. Spivak, G. (1998). Can the subaltern speak? In C. Nelson & L. Grossberg (eds.) Marxism and the interpretation of culture. Urbana: University of Illinois. Taylor, K-Y. (2021). From #blacklivesmatter to black liberation. Chicago: Haymarket. (Expanded Second Edition). Tyler, I. (2008). ‘Chav mum chav scum’, Feminist Media Studies, 8(1), pp. 17–35. Tyrrell, P. (2006). Founded on fear. Dublin: Irish Academic Press. United Nations General Assembly (2019). Report of the special rapporteur on extreme poverty and human rights. 11 October (A/74/493). Weeks, K. (2011). The problem of work. Durham & London: Duke University. Williams, R. (1977). Marxism and literature. Oxford: Oxford University. Wood, H. (2019). ‘Fuck the patriarchy: towards an intersectional politics of irreverent rage’, Feminist Media Studies, 19(4), pp. 609–615. Wu, G. (2014). ‘Speaking bitterness’, The Chinese Historical Review, 21(1), pp. 3–23.

5

Revolutionary Social Work: South African Perspectives Linda Harms-Smith

Introduction South African Social Work needs a revolutionary approach rather than acting as an agent of status quo maintenance and social control. Globally, the neoliberal capitalist system has shown itself unable to be the template for solving human and ecological problems and it is clear that alternatives are required (Harvey, 2020; Kamali and Jönsson, 2019; Monbiot, 2017). As a ‘passive revolution’, it has become the dominant way in which global economic systems operate, having ‘pervasive effects on ways of thought and political economic practices to the point where it is now part of the common-sense way we interpret, live in, and understand the world’ (Harvey, 2007, p. 3). A revolutionary approach is required to resist, undermine, and subvert the neoliberal order that perpetuates Coloniality, Apartheid race-based capitalism, and extreme socio-economic inequality. At the time of transition to democracy, the socialist, redistributive ideals of the liberation struggle were abandoned by the ruling party for systems of neoliberal capitalism. This arose due to power exerted by global financial institutions, internal compromises with the Apartheid regime, and protection of white capitalist conglomerate interests (Habib and Padayachee, 2000, p. 245). The once revolutionary liberators became compradors to Western guardians of capital and those in power lacked the capacity ‘to imagine radical solutions to anti-Black structures that sustain Black oppression’ (Ndhlovu, 2018, p. 19). Social Work embraced the social development objectives of the new democracy (Patel, 2005) and Social Work education transformed curricula towards the social development agenda. However, the White Paper for Social Welfare (1997) contained elements of neoliberalism itself, promoting ideologies of personal responsibility, self-help, and ‘empowerment’ (Holscher and Sewpaul, 2004). Socio-economic justice defined by the ruling party’s Freedom Charter of 1955 (South African History Online, 2021a) and in the Bill of Rights of the Constitution (South African Government, 1996) occurred only in the ideal rather than the material (Heywood, 2021). South Africa is currently the most unequal society in the world (World Bank, 2022) and is still stratified by race,

DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-5

Revolutionary Social Work 87 with the majority of Black South Africans still experiencing untenable levels of poverty, precarity and inequality (Statistics South Africa, 2020). Revolutionary Social Work challenges the status quo, rejects hegemonic discourse and ideologies, and offers transformative practice engaged with the structural context. This chapter uses anti-colonial, critical and revolutionary Social Work scholarship to (a) describe the South African context of ongoing socio-economic struggle; (b) explore why revolutionary Social Work should be a response to current conditions; (c) explore barriers and opportunities for South African revolutionary social work (d) and analyse revolutionary practice examples that resist, challenge and impact structures shaping socio-economic precarity, ongoing Coloniality and the ecological crisis.

Why revolutionary social work? In proposing a revolutionary Social Work approach, society’s consent to neoliberal systems of wealth pursuit, and consequential inequality, poverty and ecological breakdown must be interrogated. This system perpetuates the consciousness that there is no alternative. In South Africa, these systemic problems are exacerbated by historical and ongoing structures of Coloniality and Apartheid. Kamali and Jönsson (2019, p. 296) describe how people develop structures of perception as the system makes them ‘accept the neoliberal social order as selfevident. People internalise these particular forms of perception and appreciation, which are also reproduced by the exercise of symbolic violence – a coercive system of reward and punishment’. They utilise theories of Gramsci’s ‘hegemony’ (1935), Bourdieu’s ‘symbolic violence’ (1988) and Foucault’s ‘governmentality’ (2007) to describe the manufacture of consent to oppressive structures and power asymmetries. Gramsci’s (1935) hegemony deals with how dominance of political ideas and ideology is achieved as if they were common sense, especially through civil society or cultural institutions (Ledwith, 2001). This is achieved not only through consent but also through coercion by the ‘capacity of a ruling class to construct a system of legitimization’ (Filippini, 2017, p. 18). Individuals’ actions are then framed in accordance with behaviours and conduct allowed by the political elite (Filippini, 2017). Cummins (2019) argues that dominant political ideas and values of the elites are presented and reproduced as cultural norms. In South Africa, the ideology of white supremacy is similarly dominant and inscribed on the lives and bodies of Black people. Njovane (2015, p. 3) writing about the aftermath of Apartheid maintains that Whiteness does not need institutionalisation ‘because it has already ensured its domination in all avenues of social, political, and economic realms … . [and] involves the psychic life of both whiteness and blackness in the communal imaginary of South Africa’. Bourdieu (1988, p. 14) in describing symbolic violence, argues that structures exist within systems of language, beliefs, and in the objective social world, that shape and constrain people’s behaviour (practices) and perception of the world.

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These structures produce and legitimate these social order arrangements through ‘symbolic violence’, which is the coercive way that the system rewards consent and discourages dissent (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019). Foucault’s concept of governmentality describes how the state governs society or how it ‘conducts conduct’. He defines governmentality as ‘an apparatus of administrative power that has the population as its target, political economy as its major form of knowledge, and apparatuses of security as its essential technical instrument’ (Foucault, 2007, cited by Hamann, 2009, p. 38). Cummins (2019, p. 340) argues that dominant political ideas are reproduced as cultural norms in society and that hegemony examines and questions ‘how the ideas and values of elites are presented and reproduced as cultural norms’. Another dynamic is how imagination beyond the conceptual limits imposed by the dominant capitalist order, is impossible. These act as constraints on and determinants of the extent of the imagination (Mészáros, 2010). An example (Mészáros, 2010, p. 97) is the ‘paralyzing negativity of dominant theoretical discourse’ which must be redefined to achieve radical transformation (HarmsSmith, 2014). Another conceptual constraint which leads to denial of a sense of agency in influencing history, arises through the ‘suppression of historical temporality’ (Mészáros, 2010, p. 140). This is a powerful tool of ruling ideology which creates a perception that change merely occurs through the passing of time and is not influenced by people as agents of change. Marx and Engels (1970, p. 59) argue that history impacts and is impacted by people, and that in each stage of history, the sum total of forces are handed down to each generation ‘which, on the one hand, is indeed modified by the new generation, but also on the other prescribes for it its conditions of life’. ‘It shows that circumstances make men [sic] just as much as “men” make circumstances’. These considerations demonstrate how social justice and system change is constrained through the dominant power of ideologies and systems. This dominance is achieved through consent and coercion, through taken for granted knowledges and systems, constraints on envisioning alternatives and through the conduct and practices of civil society and socio-cultural institutions. Social work education and practice for change therefore face not only hegemonic neoliberalism but also ongoing Coloniality (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2018; Morley et al., 2017). The neoliberal system constrains social work practice through the acceptance of the free market as template for solving social problems; the increase in racialised and gendered inequality; the rampant individualist culture of personal responsibility; managerialism; focus on risk and risk management; ‘blaming the poor’ and emphasis on self-help (Ferguson, 2008; Morley, 2016; Sewpaul, 2013; Sewpaul and Holscher, 2004; Harms-Smith, 2017). In addition, ongoing Coloniality persists through Eurocentrism and Western hegemony with attendant hierarchies of power; structural and institutional racism; domination and exploitation; domination of knowledge production and culture; and capitalist approaches to ecological problems (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019; Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2020). It is with these understandings around ideology, neoliberal hegemony, ongoing Coloniality, constraints and control, that social workers must consider

Revolutionary Social Work 89 radical approaches that are revolutionary to resist, subvert and transform taken for granted, hegemonic systems.

South African ongoing context of socio-economic struggle Colonialism and the later pernicious Apartheid system of racist capitalism wrought violence, brutalisation, racist inferiorisation, oppression, resource extraction and destruction of culture and traditions (Ndlovu-Gatsheni, 2021). However, the Coloniality of power is ongoing through global economic power hierarchies and the neoliberal economic system (Quijano, 2007). Apartheid’s end was to hail the start of the Rainbow Nation. However, national liberation was incomplete and occurred in the political but not socioeconomic realms (Gibson, 2011a; Bond, 2005). Gibson (2011b, p. 1) argues that grassroots movements regard the post-apartheid government as having betrayed the people with broken promises, referred to by Fanon (1967) as ‘social treason’. People realized that ‘nothing fundamental has changed. Once the hours of effusion and enthusiasm before the spectacle of the national flag floating in the wind are past, the people rediscover the first dimension of its requirement: bread, clothing, shelter’ (Fanon, 1967, p. 122). South Africa’s transition to democracy was a departure from the African National Congress (ANC) programme of radical restructuring, redistribution and state interventionism towards orthodox neoliberal market-based economic policies (Habib and Padayachee, 2000; Ashman et al., 2011). Reasons for this post-apartheid shift included pressures and power from international financial institutions and White South African corporate conglomerates (Bond, 2011; Habib and Padayachee, 2000). These policies led to free market reliance, cuts in welfare expenditure, privatization of services and extreme inequality (Sewpaul, 2013; Bond, 2005). This also meant financialization (Fraser, 2020), increased personal household debt and consumption based on credit. Social and economic restructuring was accompanied by ‘the decline of collective transformative projects and democratic participation and governance increasingly attached to the market and finance, with promotion of citizens as consumers and consumption as the means to selfrealization’ (Ashman et al., 2011, p. 176). Financialization drives policies towards conservatism, and places areas of economic and social living at risk due to financial instability (Ashman et al., 2011). Furthermore, Zarenda (2013) argues that neoliberal Structural Adjustment Programmes of the 1980s–1990s meant a reduction in state involvement in production and service delivery, emphasising ‘macro-economic stability, downsizing public sector institutions, privatisation, reduced government spending, and budget deficits … which resulted in increased unemployment, reduced social service delivery and human capital development and low actual growth outcomes’ (Zarenda, 2013, p. 8). South Africa has extreme levels of poverty and inequality. According to Statistics South Africa (2020), using the ‘consumption of goods’ poverty definition, 25% of the population live below the food poverty line of R561

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(approximately £27) per person per month, while 40% live below the lowerbound poverty line of R810 (£39 per month), and 55% live below the upper bound poverty line of R1,227 (approximately £59 per month). The Draft Poverty Strategy reports structural unemployment affecting 12 million South Africans. Unemployment increased from 30.1% to 34.4% using the official definition, and 44.4% including discouraged work seekers. Youth between 15–24 years have an unemployment rate over 63%. The impact of the COVID19 pandemic has had a severe impact on hunger, education outcomes and life expectancy. South Africa also has the highest inequality of income distribution in the world with a Gini score of 63 (World Bank, 2021). These statistics also evidence extreme racialised inequality, with the mean earnings for White South Africans more than three times higher than for Black South Africans. Within this context, social work must reflect on its role as a profession of social justice and social change. ‘Making a difference’ and ‘working for a better world’ is not possible without a revolutionary perspective – using critical analysis and radical approaches (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019).

Opportunities for and barriers to revolutionary social work in South Africa Ideological foundations of South African social work Historically, Social work in South Africa was unable to successfully challenge policies of the time. While there is evidence of a small kernel of dissent among courageous and critical social workers, dominant practice and perspectives adhered to the dictates of state policies of the time (Turton and Van Breda, 2019). South African social work is rooted in the racist and imperialist project of colonialism and Apartheid and formalised during the 1930s after the Carnegie Commission of Inquiry into the ‘Poor White Problem’ (1932). Previously, welfare efforts amongst the settler white European group had centred around charity, orphanhood and juvenile ‘delinquency’, mainly through efforts of the church and associated white Afrikaner women’s organisations. Formal textual discourse uses a hegemonic White conservative and at the most, liberal perspective, to trace its development despite more recent uncovering of alternative narratives and histories associated with Black social workers (Harms-Smith, 2014). White poverty was the primary focus with ‘poor whites’ deemed degenerate, requiring state welfare support. As in most British Colonies, white supremacism was supported by Social Darwinism, confirming colonizers’ views about their own superiority (Worden, 2012). This developed into ‘systematic and legalized discrimination shaping the economic, social and political structure of the whole country’ (Worden, 2012, p. 73). White welfarist groups were preoccupied with eugenics, social hygiene, sexual behaviour, strong values about the health of family life, concerns for the safety of White women and White racial purity ( Glaser, 2005). Harms-Smith (2014, p. 314) cites Legassik (1976) who described the Johannesburg Race Welfare

Revolutionary Social Work 91 Society of the 1930s working to ‘limit the fertility of “poor whites”, cultivate a healthy and productive “white population” and avoid “white race degeneration”’. This all occurred against the backdrop of real and ‘symbolic violence’ (Bourdieu, 1988), ensuring society was organised according to race-based class structures of White superiority and Black servitude. Legassik (1976, p. 231) presents the writing of Hoernlé from 1939: The great task of South African development was to guide the gradual transformation of the mass of natives into the class of wage-earning labourers … wisely on such lines that the creation of a corrupt, discontented, and dangerous industrial proletariat is avoided. Legislated anti-Black racist discrimination in support of capitalism, determined what constituted ‘degrees of humanisation’ – hierarchies of need, rights to resources, and social welfare provisioning, even towards the last decade of the 20th century (Harms-Smith, 2014). Neoliberal societal structuring in the ‘new’ South Africa continues to exert influence on social work methodologies among some social work educational institutions and practice settings (Dlamini and Sewpaul, 2015). Status quo maintenance, social control and supporting people to cope with oppressive economic systems prevail. Conceptual constraints and determinants of imagination beyond hegemonic ideological frameworks (Mészáros, 2010) thus act as barriers to radical approaches. However, activism, resistance and challenge of the system have also been evident over the decades. Social workers collectively and individually participated in the liberation struggle within and outside their formal social work practice contexts despite harsh, repressive state tactics such as detention without trial and insidious victimisation (Baldwin-Ragaven et al., 1999). Examples include the South African Black Social Workers Association (SABSWA); Concerned Social Workers; and the leadership of Black African social work educated leaders such as among many others, Winnie MadikizelaMandela (social worker, president of ANC’s Women’s League, known as ‘Mother of the Nation’); Ellen Kuzwayo (social worker, lectured social work, author, ANC activist), Adam Small (Head of Philosophy and later Social Work at University of the Western Cape) and Mfanasekaya Gqobose (social worker, founder member of the Pan Africanist Congress [PAC] in 1959 and tasked to establish Poqo, forerunner to the Azanian People’s Liberation Army), (HarmsSmith, 2020; Noyoo, 2004; Turton and Van Breda, 2019; Shokane and Masoga, 2019; Schmid and Sacco, 2012). Social Work is ‘by its very nature … protest, which can be used to restore ravaged history’ (Shokane and Masoga, 2019, p. 435). These histories of dissent, submerged by formal texts (Harms-Smith, 2014), demonstrate the potential for radical engagement through resistance to and challenge of the current system. Recounting these histories and producing new radical discourses is the basis for ideological commitments to social justice.

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Social development policy environment After the democratic transition, extensive consultation and participation occurred to develop new policies, including social welfare. In the context of the ruling party abandoning the socialist Freedom Charter (1955) and redistribution programmes (Bond, 2005; Ashman et al., 2011), a comprehensive national social development framework was established. Welfare and social development were guided by the White Paper for Social Welfare (Department of Welfare, South African Government, 1997) and so with the new South African Constitution (1997) and its Bill of Rights, social workers were hopeful about transformation. The vision of the White Paper for Social Welfare was to facilitate ‘the development of human capacity and self-reliance within a caring and enabling socio-economic environment’ (Department of Welfare, South African Government, 1997, p. 9). However, Sewpaul (2013) highlights that the focus of subsequent policies has emphasised self-reliance rather than the ‘enabling socioeconomic environment’. Hölscher (2008, p. 121) argues that this social development policy reflects South Africa’s neoliberal macro-economic framework and ‘has led to systematically inadequate financing’ of large developmental social work programmes and anti-poverty strategies. Despite development discourse, neoliberalism reverts to a residual welfare approach (Hölscher, 2008 p. 121) with the state acting only as last resort and positioning individuals as primarily responsible for their own welfare. Fraser more recently shows how community development is not primarily about the needs of communities but rather a government technology deployed to ‘facilitate neoliberalisation, austerity and the marketisation of public services’ (Fraser, 2020, p. 437). The ideological tradition of South African social work has tended to support the policy direction of the state at any given time (Harms-Smith, 2014; Sewpaul, 2013), and so constitutes a barrier to practice which resists, challenges, and subverts the status quo. Within social development discourse there are also counter-hegemonic ideologies rejecting the hegemony of state neoliberalism. One of these is the concept of Ubuntu. This Afrikan philosophy of communal personhood is based on the maxim, umuntu ngumuntu ngabantu, (a person is a person through other people) and that ‘being human is not located inside the person; it involves a ceaseless becoming, a flow, movement, or dialogue with one’s surroundings as one participates in the community and vice versa’ (Mkhize, 2018 p. 34). Ubuntu therefore presents a radical departure from neoliberalism’s individualism, selfreliance and personal responsibility. However, even ‘Ubuntu’ is at risk of being appropriated as its ‘emphasis on community and group care and solidarity has been exploited by the state to abdicate its responsibilities to people’ (Sewpaul, 2013, p. 20). Opportunities do exist for a radical approach to development work and a departure from neoliberal ideology. An example is social work with women’s

Revolutionary Social Work 93 movements in Tanzania using a politically conscious orientation (ManzaneraRuiz and Lizárraga, 2017). These women are powerful agents of social change in ‘specific social spaces’ discerning where human rights are in question in the design and implementation of social policies. They are strategically positioned as key players ‘between the needs of the people, politicians and policy making technocrats’ working with local people, allowing for ‘political orientations and interventions of social development more in line with social realities’ (Manzanera-Ruiz and Lizárraga, 2017, p. 232). Further, Matthews (2022) suggests that there should be continued resistance to technocratic neoliberal management, especially to ‘conditions’ enforced by external funders. These conditions are hidden in discourse around participation and partnership, while donors retain power to dictate outcomes. Despite such dominance and hegemony, opportunities for revolutionary perspectives and social development practice are possible, subverting and shifting neoliberal ideologies of personal responsibility, self-reliance and managerialism. This means politically engaged work with collectives within an Ubuntu framework, developing critical conscientisation (Freire, 1971) and social action for revolutionary social transformation. Alignment with civil society and social movements Post-Apartheid South Africa is characterised by many social movements, protests and heightened social organisation (Ballard et al., 2005). These relate to government policy (e.g. trade-union opposition to the Growth, Employment and Redistribution Strategy); failures to meet basic needs (e.g. the Soweto Electricity Crisis Committee, Landless Peoples’ Movements, and the HIV/AIDS Treatment Action campaign) and to resist repression (e.g. the Anti-Eviction campaign) (Ballard et al., 2006). The extent of protests around service delivery and socio-economic issues been described as ‘the rebellion of the poor’ which at times became ‘a massive movement of militant local political protests’ (Alexander, 2010, p. 37). Despite a critique that activism of social movements may be only reformist, Ferguson (2014) points out that ‘the key role that such struggles play in building working class self-confidence and self-organisation is why Rosa Luxemburg insisted that revolutionaries should be the best fighters for reforms’. Revolutionary social work approaches may be enabled through alignment and solidarity with civil society, non-profit organisations, collectives and social movements which embrace counter-hegemonic struggles for social change. In South Africa, numerous social movements are regarded as successful, and ‘provide a vital counterbalance to promote the needs of the poor onto political agendas’ (Ballard et al., 2005, p. 615). An example is Abahlali BaseMjondolo which has more than 100,000 members in 86 branches in South Africa (Abahlali Basemjondolo, 2021). Social movements offer social work the opportunity to radicalise theory and practice as they share many characteristics (Ferguson, 2008; Reisch, 2013;

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Harms-Smith, 2015). They also enable social workers to participate in local communities’ struggles, support change towards social justice, offer consciousness raising for students through placements and develop theory relevant for radical perspectives (Ferguson and Smith, 2012; Harms-Smith, 2014; Manzanera-Ruiz and Lizárraga, 2017). Manzanera-Ruiz and Lizárraga (2017 p. 219) argue that social movements are ‘politically and socially guided collectives, focused on the change of one or more elements of the social, political and economic system’ and so offer opportunities for social work in line with the needs of communities. Similarly, Sithole (2021) and Ferguson and Smith (2012) argue that informal settlements and social movements should be selected as sites for social work education placements. A barrier to substantial outcomes for revolutionary social work in solidarity with social movements is the critique that participants often ‘look to their movements to help mitigate the harsh effects of government policy rather than follow a broader ideological, anti-hegemonic agenda’ (Anciano, 2012, p. 152). Sinwell (2011) similarly argues that extreme levels of poverty and hardship that people face is often the motivation for collective activism and not a conscious contestation of neoliberalism. Barker and Lavalette (2015) emphasise the importance of including workplace and trade union participation if social movements are to be successful. It is then that ‘the kinds of movements that brought down Apartheid and ended many dictatorships in the global South may yet succeed in pushing back neoliberalism’s assaults on welfare, perhaps even opening the way to new kinds of welfare systems’ (Barker and Lavalette, 2015, p. 724).

Revolutionary practice examples Historic South African political activism Social Work education must interrogate and analyse historical examples of resistance and revolutionary actions. This develops competence for critical analysis of current events and resistance strategies. For example, the anti-apartheid movement provides extensive examples of non-violent revolutionary tactics that contributed to the success of the liberation struggle, for example the Defiance Campaign of 1952, leading to the arrest of over 8000 people and so successfully impacting policing resources. This demonstrated oppressed people’s power through collective agency to disobey unjust Laws. The campaign also demonstrated the power of the ANC and ordinary people to mobilise and disrupt the socio-political order (South African History Online, 2021b). The current expression of the culture of protest has led to South Africa recently being described as the ‘protest capital of the world’ (Alexander, 2010). Within social work itself, there are examples of courageous social workers challenging, resisting and undermining Apartheid state policies (Turton and Van Breda, 2019; Shokane and Masoga 2019; Schmid and Sacco, 2012). The current neoliberal regime entangled with ongoing race-based structures of

Revolutionary Social Work 95 colonialism and Apartheid demand a consciously revolutionary response by social work. Social action and activism as methodologies in social work are not very common, with these methodologies largely absent in social work education (Harms-Smith, 2014; Shokane and Masoga, 2019). Student movements #feesmustfall and #rhodesmustfall The #Feesmustfall and #Rhodesmustfall student protest movement was not a new phenomenon, as the burden of increasing university emerges frequently. However, this movement was different in its extent and success. The demands included free higher education; university transformation in terms of ‘race’ and gender equity of staff; a decolonised education; and the rights of the lowest paid, outsourced workers (Langa, 2017; Nathane and Harms-Smith, 2017). The physical and ideological struggle against the symbolic power of the state and higher education administrations led to university authorities introducing heavy handed militarisation of campuses. In analysing the violence in the #Feesmustfall and #Rhodesmustfall protests, Langa (2017, p. 8) cites Bourdieu (1979) and argues that ‘the deployment of police often leads to more violence as police represent the state’s symbolic power’. Excellent examples of subversive solidarity with the overall protest aims included demonstrations of support by campus control staff; staff joining students in protest; students forming protective ‘chains’ for other students; senior students offering tutorials at night to fellow students; academic staff arranging feeding schemes and offering outside of hours tutoring and lectures; staff confronting police violence and protesting the presence of police on campus; first aid and medical emergency support; counselling and debriefing; provision of food and soup kitchens by students and staff (Cassim, 2015; Meth, 2017; Pather, 2016; Ndelu, 2017). Social work students were also specifically involved, working in various task teams, and using theory to analyse unfolding events. ‘In meetings: they can be heard to discuss Paulo Freire (1972) and the role of the oppressed; they analyse protest actions as social action; they speak of structural disadvantage; and they quote Sankara (1988) and Biko (1970)’ (Nathane and Harms-Smith, 2017, p. 117). Analysis exposes the significance of the #Rhodesmustfall aspect of these protests. Cecil John Rhodes, businessman and one-time prime minister of the Cape, was dedicated to the extension of the British Empire. He argued that the more of the world Britain inhabits, the better it would be for the human ‘race’ and ‘to bring under Anglo-Saxon rule the most despicable specimen of human being’ (South African History Online, 2022). His celebrated status in South Africa symbolised the brutalising, racist colonial project. The #Rhodesmustfall movement (2015) explained that ‘the statue itself has great symbolic power; it glorifies a mass-murderer who exploited black labour and stole land from indigenous people. Its presence erases black history and is an act of violence against Black students, workers, and staff – by “Black” we refer to all people of colour’ (Ndelu, 2017, p. 66). This also contributed renewed consciousness for

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decoloniality. Mathebane and Sekudu (2018 p. 6) argue that it was the ‘unshakable determination and heroic acts of the #RhodesMustFall and #FeesMustFall movements and student protests’ that gave momentum to the processes of decoloniality in higher education. These rolling protests impacted power asymmetries by demanding and succeeding in forcing state action on demands; tearing down the Rhodes statue; demanding curriculum transformation and the end of the practice of outsourcing workers demonstrates how successful the movements were (Langa, 2017). Duncan (2016, p. 1) maintains that ‘because protests are inherently disruptive, they can wake society up from its complacent slumber, make it realize that there are problems that need to be addressed urgently and hasten social change’. Not only did the student protest movement represent a turning point in the history of higher education in South Africa, but as Mzileni (2020, p. 16) argues, the #feesmustfall protest space became ‘a liberating location anchored on critical informal education, contemporary political debates, historicised and diverse learning methods, and scholarly theorising competencies’. Social work collectivisation and critical perspectives: Black Womxn’s Caucus and SWAN-SA Recent examples of critical and radical social work in South Africa that present opportunities for revolutionary practice include the Social Work Action Network-South Africa and the Black Womxn’s Caucus. The crisis of the COVID19 ‘lockdown’ and the wholly inadequate socio-economic response of the state to the already-extreme levels of poverty led to the establishment of the Social Work Action Network, South Africa (SWAN-SA) in 2020 (Turton and Harms-Smith, 2020). SWAN-SA works at collectivisation and mobilisation of progressive social workers for activism and is affiliated to SWAN-International (SWAN-I, 2021). The organisation and mobilisation that had occurred during previous social movement activities such as the #Feesmustfall and #Rhodesmustfall student movements during 2015/2016 (Mzileni, 2020) proved indispensable during the period of lockdown restrictions and facilitated mass communication and networking. In the absence of organised progressive voices of the social work sector, SWAN-SA became a networking platform for radical social work, ideological debate and conscientisation, exposing and countering hegemonic neoliberal ideologies. Advocacy and campaigns included the urgent call for socio-economic justice in the face of inequality exacerbated by the COVID-19 pandemic through a statement by 122 social work academics, practitioners and students; solidarity and membership of the COVID-19 People’s Coalition of 405 organisations (COVID-19 People’s Coalition, 2021); mobilising support for the Basic Income Grant; and advocating on critical issues facing South African social work. Webinars were also used to shape more radical ideological positions such as ‘Critical Conversations’ around radical social work, on racist violence during Black Lives Matter mobilisation, and on the Basic Income Grant as structural

Revolutionary Social Work 97 poverty alleviation. Petitions and appeals were also made to formal social work bodies such as the Association of South African Social Work Education Institutions (ASASWEI) and the South African Council for Social Service Professions (SACSSP) around policy and operational matters. The networking capacity among progressive social workers was also evident in the case of demolition and forced evictions of so called ‘illegal’ occupiers of land. The Black Womxns Caucus (Black Womxns Caucus, 2020) formed during 2017 by a social work student, around issues of gender-based violence (GBV). More than a thousand participants were mobilised around women’s issues and more generally, racism, gender and social justice. Ideologically they are positioned as a critical and radical movement, with crisis counselling services, community outreach and campaigns and awareness raising around gender-based violence, fully funded health care, economic justice, women’s rights and the climate crisis. This grouping has advocated and participated at high levels in the development of policy, funding strategies and networking of stakeholders (Black Womxns’ Caucus 2020). It too incites debate, conscientisation and resistance to socio-economic issues and taken-for-granted ideologies. Undermining the banking system It is evident that systems of mutual aid are created in response to state neoliberal austerity measures. These ‘concurrently function as forms of protest, organising and social care’ (Izlar, 2019, p. 249). Co-operative mutual aid or ‘Stokvels’ as poverty alleviation has been prevalent for many years amongst the majority of Black South Africans. They function as savings clubs or ‘burial societies’, have built-in mutuality, are collectively self-organised, entail regulated systems of defined contributions and entitlements, and offer psychological and emotional support (Olivier et al., 2008). According to Seepamore (2018, p. 75), these mutual aid social networks are ‘complex culturally institutionalised practices that characterise social welfare and social security in many African countries’ and known worldwide as rotating savings and credit associations (ROSCAs). These community practices in the global South are ‘a material antithesis to the logic of neo-liberalism’ (Podlashuc, 2009, p. 374) are contrary to the false consciousness of aspirational society and create material possibility beyond survival. While there is some contestation that such cooperatives are the ‘embryo of socialism’ as they may be characterised as private ownership (Philip, 2003, p. 3), they generally advance democratic ideals, worker and community ownership and community solidarity (Philip, 2003). They offer opportunities for social work engagement around conscientisation, critical pedagogy and advocacy. Social movements In South Africa, social movements provide a non-institutional space for activists to contest the legitimacy of the state and fight against neo-liberal

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hegemony (Dawson and Sinwell, 2012), although sometimes lacking clear political agendas. Social movement protest in South Africa since 2004 has been widespread and intense, amounting to ‘a rebellion of the poor’ (Alexander, 2010). Similarly, there is an increase in social movements fighting structural oppressions in Zimbabwe and offering hope for social workers to engage in social justice and social change (Muchacha and Moyo, 2017). More radical social movements of the past two decades have included Abahlali BaseMjondolo (Shack dwellers movement), the Anti-Eviction Campaign, the Anti-Privatisation Forum, the Landless People’s Movement, Treatment Action Campaign, and the Feesmustfall and Rhodesmustfall student movements. In such movements, social workers can and have been engaged in revolutionary interventions, in their personal capacity, or as professional social workers. These include advocacy and support through mobilisation and solidarity with the Basic Income Grant campaign; the C19 coalition; Gender Based Violence (GBV); and Black Lives Matter campaigns (SWAN-SA, 2021). Although it is critical that social work engages, supports and acts in solidarity with social movements (Harms-Smith, 2014; Manzanera-Ruiz and Lizárraga, 2017; Reisch, 2013) to pursue ideals of social justice, this is not an area that is significantly interrogated in formal social work discourse. This is an important opportunity for scholarship, education and practice. Ideological positioning – decoloniality The post-colonial context adds an important dimension to the arguments about the hegemony of neoliberalism and its pernicious impacts. Ongoing coloniality and the legacy of Apartheid in South Africa, racist capitalism that drove systems of extraction, brutalisation and oppression, and neoliberal economic frameworks require that a revolutionary perspective includes decoloniality. The nexus of power relationships and the economic dominance imposed on especially African countries is an indication of ongoing dynamics of coloniality. Ndlovu-Gatsheni (2021) argues that these colonial economic arrangements in Africa have remained intact after geo-political decolonisation because economic decolonisation had never occurred. Fanon argues that the success of decolonisation lies in a whole social structure being changed from the bottom up. The extraordinary importance of this change is that it is willed, called for, demanded. The need for this change exists in its crude state, impetuous and compelling, in the consciousness and in the lives of the men and women who are colonized. (Fanon, 1967, p. 33) In challenging socio-economic conditions, the approach must incorporate attention to neoliberalism, ‘race’ and coloniality as well as transformational decoloniality that addresses the material realities of poverty and inequality, while

Revolutionary Social Work 99 positioning Afrika as the centre within an international context (Heleta, 2020, Harms-Smith, 2020). Sithole (2021, p. 170) aptly states that ‘Afrocentrism is a philosophy of the oppressed’. Feminist collectives and climate activism Many women’s collectives and solidarity networks are active in Black communities, such as religious groupings, stokvels, burial societies and savings clubs (as mentioned previously), formed around needs arising from the roles of women as caregivers, mothers and wives which relate to ‘practical gender needs’ rather than ‘strategic women’s interests’. Hassim (2006, p. 7) argues that ‘feminine consciousness develops from the connections between cultural experiences of gender and everyday struggles of poor families and communities to survive, impelling women to political action’. It is here that social work interventions around ideologies may facilitate this process of critical conscientisation towards political engagement and elimination of gender-based power hierarchies (Hassim, 2006). Together with class oppression, Black women struggle with additional burden of ‘race’ and patriarchy, exacerbated by neoliberal structural arrangements of extreme inequality and poverty. An example of revolutionary engagement is an annual ‘Feminist Table’ gathering of 40–60 women activists from collectives around social reproduction and environmental justice struggles, planned around ‘looking for non-capitalist elements on which capitalism depends’ (Singh, 2015, cited by Fakier and Cock, 2018, p. 2). It aims to ‘develop solidarity and a grassroots eco-feminist understanding among Black women in contemporary South Africa … [and] involves politicizing the Marxist feminist concept of social reproduction—the unpaid care work women do outside the market’ (Fakier and Cock, 2018, p. 2). It is a safe space for collective analysis, dialogic learning, promotion of sociability and solidarity, and debating alternative non-capitalist social forms, institutions and practices. These include ‘co-operative arrangements for childcare; agroecology co-operatives; bulk-buying; decentralized, community-controlled forms of renewable energy; development of ‘people’s restaurants and community food centres; and seed-sharing’. Sessions with activists, academics and participants use reflection and Marxist-feminist analysis of initiatives in their communities that socialize domestic labour and ecological struggles. These sessions include reflection, analysis, learning and sharing successful campaigns. Women are supported and encouraged in their activities that subvert and transform oppressions of the capitalist system in their local communities. Another area of importance for climate activism is an Afro-sensed perspective associated with decoloniality. Freire, 1971; Masoga and Shokane (2019) argue that South Africans living in rural areas and struggling with poverty practice livelihoods often closely aligned with principles of biodiversity. They proposed that ‘Positive action, if taken in these communities, could decrease pressure from climate change impacts. Indigenous knowledge can be a sustainable development and livelihood tool that can be used throughout the Global South’

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(2019, p. 1). The impact of colonial rule, Apartheid, exploitation of local communities and the environment, and subjection to imported knowledge systems, are all expressions of the political dimension of the environmental crisis. Climate change is known to disproportionately impact people racialised as Black and ‘Persons of colour’ for many reasons such as landlessness, (ongoing) resource extraction in colonial eras and historical colonial trauma impacting connectedness and preservation of local knowledges. Social work responses should include collective organisation and mobilisation of communities through ‘ongoing resistance to social and structural barriers of the dominant society’ (Billiot et al., 2019, p. 9).

Conclusion Working in the terrain of the oppressive, unjust and exploitative, involves the definition of social as a social justice profession. The global neoliberal economic order maintained by symbolic (and real) power and hegemony produces extraordinary levels of suffering, inequality, ecosystemic destruction and wealth accumulation. In South Africa, the historical and ongoing power structures of colonialism and Apartheid exacerbate these realities and added additional complexity. Unless social work education engages with analysis, theorising and knowledge development for revolutionary and radical work, social workers risk being passive bystanders, keepers of the status quo and social control agents. Barriers as well as hope for revolutionary social work include the rich history of South African political activism; the #Feesmustfall and #Rhodesmustfall student protest movements; social work collectivisation and critical perspectives of new social work formations such as the Black Wxmen’s Caucus and SWANSA; local mutual aid collectivist strategies that undermine the economic system; South Africa’s characteristically vibrant culture of protest and resistance; and the renewed focus on transformational decoloniality, feminist collectives and climate activism. Social workers are mandated to work towards a better society through disciplinary definitions. The courage to engage in resistance, dissidence and subversion arises from critical conscientisation and depth understanding of the dynamics of these socio-economic and political problems. Such ‘counter conduct’ (Foucault, 2007) requires a strong political awareness which includes a Marxist orientation; surrealism (‘a permanent readiness for the marvellous’ [Suzanne Cesaire cited in Césaire, 2000, p. 15]); and an attitude of decoloniality and Afro-centredness.

Acknowledgement With comradely and collegial thanks to Professor Sello Sithole, Director of the School of Social Sciences at the University of Limpopo, for conversations, sharing of ideas, and a shared vision of ‘a permanent readiness for the marvelous’ for revolutionary Social Work.

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Chile Woke Up! Political Resistance of Chilean Social Workers in the Context of the 18-O Movement 1 Paz Valenzuela-Rebolledo, Gerhard Aldana-Araza, Carla Morales-Torres, and Gianinna Muñoz-Arce

Introduction The history of Chilean social work cannot be told without analysing the interplays of power and politics in its development. After its inception in 1925, social work education was strongly affected by the right-wing dictatorship of Pinochet (1973–1990). Considered a source of critical thought and subversion, social work schools were closed, and the social work profession lost its university status. Despite the return to democratic regimes in the 1990s, and the recovery of its university status in 2006, social work education still faces many challenges. The significant amount of private higher education centres created during Pinochet’s privatisation reforms – still in force – has resulted in an increase of 356% of graduated students of social work education each year. This has resulted, in turn, in both the precarisation of social workers’ labour conditions and deprofessionalisation of social work (Muñoz-Arce and Pantazis, 2019). The critical situation of social workers has been even more acute since the political protest outbreak of 18th October 2019 (18-O movement). Social workers have taken part in this political struggle – under the motto ‘¡Chile despertó!’ (Chile woke up!). They have participated in the protests in the streets, with many others involved in the defence of human rights of hundreds of victims of the state’s political violence, some of them risking their own lives. Some social workers have lost their jobs, and others remain in their positions but are considerably affected in terms of mental health. However, some social workers have developed relevant critical practices committed to the values of dignity and social justice. This chapter aims to explore the experiences of social workers in the ongoing political crisis, examining their understandings and practices of professional resistance in the context of the 18-O movement. By using a typology which includes four modes of professional resistance, i.e., (a) individual infrapolitics; (b) collective infrapolitics; (c) macro and individual resistance (insubordination) and (d) macro and collective resistance (insurrection), we analyse the testimonies of social workers experiencing the political crisis. DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-6

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This chapter is mainly based on our experience of the 18-O revolt and our research on professional resistances (research project ‘Professional resistances in frontline policy implementation’, and the work of the Interdisciplinary Studies in Social Work Research Cluster, from the Department of Social Work at the University of Chile). We have conducted thematic analyses of testimonial interviews with social workers who took part in the 18-O revolt, documents produced by professional social work organisations, videos of talks, workshops and conferences related to the topic, and images produced in the context of the 18-O revolt. The interviews were conducted during July and September 2021 under the ethical approval of the institution sponsoring the study. All participants signed an informed consent form. We have used pseudonyms to protect the anonymity of the participants in the presentation of their narratives in this chapter. We have also included narratives elaborated by social workers in oral presentations and written documents that are publicly available on the internet or social media.

‘Neoliberalism begins and ends in Chile’: The historical context of the demands It is well known that the right-wing, civil-military dictatorship led by Pinochet in Chile between 1973 and 1990 produced not only economic and political damage to vast sectors of the population by the violent imposition of the ‘neoliberal experiment’ but also brutal violation of human rights which affected more than 40,000 people, including those arrested, disappearing, tortured and killed by the regime (Amnesty International, 2013). Fear, repression, and censorship created an extremely complex political environment at that time. Despite the brutal repression of any act of community organising or political activism, the clandestine work of non-governmental organisations (NGOs) – funded at that time by international organisations related to the defence of human rights – played a crucial role in promoting community engagement and political action against the dictatorship. In such settings, many social workers clandestinely exerted resistance against Pinochet’s rule and struggled for the return of democracy through the strengthening of community organisations and the promotion of popular education (Muñoz-Arce, 2022; Saracostti et al., 2012). Many social workers, risking their lives, also played a key role in denouncing human rights violations during the military regime and working with victims and their families (del Villar, 2018). Many of those colleagues faced the darkest moments of the dictatorship working in the Pro-Peace Committee (Comité ProPaz) and in the Vicariate of Solidarity (Vicaría de la Solidaridad), attending to the demands of thousands of people who were looking for their relatives who had been detained and disappeared by the dictatorship’s agents. Undertaking interviews, social workers documented the cases of violation of human rights at that time. Forty years later, these archives have raised awareness about the atrocities of authoritarianism and educated people about their rights and have even been used for therapeutic purposes to address the political trauma left by

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institutional violence in the framework of reparation processes (Morales, 2010). The archives’ historical value has been recognised and considered as world heritage by the UNESCO (Letelier and Norambuena, 2021). This history is well-known in the teaching of social work in Chile and in Latin America. It is part of our heritage, the struggles of our ancestors. We never imagined that 40 years later, we would once again face a crossroads of institutional violence, where social work would once again have to play a role in the defence of human rights and social justice, in public denunciation and in collective action occupying the streets. In an era where records are immediate thanks to smartphones, where social networks allow the action of social movements to be widely disseminated at the same time as repression, it seemed impossible that the human rights of thousands of people would once again be systematically violated by the Chilean state. During the post-dictatorship period, which began in the 1990s, the discourse of centre-left and centreright governments that democratically ruled the country was that of economic growth and the generation of opportunities; however, huge inequality gaps and precariousness resulting from the neoliberal model affected the poorest and most excluded sectors, at the same time that privileged sectors of the elite increased their wealth, to the point that injustice became intolerable for working-class people (Garcés, 2019). The ‘social outburst’ – as it was called by the mainstream press – or the popular revolt of 18 October (18-O), as we prefer to call it, was a historic event that overturned all the certainties generated by the neoliberal model, spreading indignation and protest in the streets throughout all the cities of Chile – from north to south, urban and rural – with the participation of young people, adults, children, sexual dissidence collectives, feminists, indigenous peoples, students, diverse social movements, and countless individuals not affiliated with political parties, to demand ‘Hasta que la dignidad se haga costumbre’ (‘Until dignity becomes usual’), and that the political constitution created during the Pinochet dictatorship – the basis of the Chilean neoliberal experiment – be demolished.

Triggers of the 18-O revolt In October 2019, after the centre-right government of Sebastián Piñera established an increase in the price of public transport, and government representatives made indolent and even mocking statements about the demands of citizens who criticised these increases, widespread indignation was generated in the Chilean population. One of the first organised actions against these measures was carried out by secondary school students, who organised a mass boycott of public transport: ‘Evadir, no pagar, otra forma de luchar’ (‘Evade, don’t pay, another way to fight’) was the slogan that hundreds of students chanted at the entrance of Metro stations. These acts of indignation organised by the students were joined by other sectors of the population – workers in general, the unemployed, homeless people, children in care, pensioners, among many others – which culminated in

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the collective revolt that took place in the centre of Santiago on the evening of 18 October. Police forces reacted brutally, generating rapid spirals of violence first in Santiago and then across the country (Somma et al., 2021). These massive demonstrations called by secondary school students in the first weeks of October 2019 in different parts of Chile brought to the fore demands that were not new. More than a decade ago and through the action of various social movements and street protests, social unrest against the neoliberal model was explicitly visible. Little by little, a scenario was taking shape characterised by the loss of legitimacy of Chilean institutions and the abandonment of traditional forms of political participation, which led to the reconfiguration of the political culture of young people without central leadership and with horizontal decision-making (Garretón, 2021). In the days and weeks following 18 October 2019, hundreds of demonstrators gathered at key points in different cities, displaying banners against the government, against political parties, against low pensions; posters with demands linked to health, education, indebtedness, and even signs claiming that Chile was going to be ‘the tomb of neoliberalism’. The indignation spread to such an extent that demonstrations began to take place in localised neighbourhoods, from north to south, in the vast majority of Chile’s cities for almost five months. With the multiplication of protests, which began to take place every day in the late evening, the violent repression by state agents against the people demonstrating in the streets also increased. One of the first slogans of the 18-O revolt was ‘We are not at war’, due to the fact that the President of the Republic Sebastián Piñera affirmed, on national open television, that we were ‘at war against a powerful enemy’. The ‘enemy’ was the people participating in massive demonstrations, people from different generations and social sectors. The presence of the military on the streets during the revolt, the abuse of police forces even at peaceful protests, the curfew and the warlike discourse against the people by the president of the republic himself were triggers of the traumatic memory of the dictatorship, creating an emotional damage that was only interrupted by the pandemic in March 2020. The systematic institutional violence of the police that occurred between October 2019 and March 2020 has been recognised by international organisations such as Amnesty International and Human Rights Watch. Between 18 October and 30 November 2019, the Ministry of Health indicated that 11,180 emergency consultations had been carried out in the context of the social unrest (National Institute of Human Rights, 2019). Between 18 October and 18 December 2019, 18,686 people were registered as arrested, with an average of 652 arrests per day in the month of October. Police repression left 411 people with various eye injuries between 18 October and 31 March 2020, as well as 3219 people injured by police firearms during the same period (Heinrich Boll Foundation, 2020). The number of people registered by the National Public Prosecutor’s Office in complaints and judicial writs was 8,827 victims of human rights violations, with most of the complaints filed in the courts of justice related to crimes of torture and unlawful coercion. The most frequent cases according to these records were ‘complaints of

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illegal detentions, shootings, beatings, forced undressing, touching of genitals and other intimate parts, as well as physical, psychological and/or sexual mistreatment’ (Heinrich Boll Foundation, 2020, p. 23).

Professional resistances in the context of political violence Social workers were not excluded from these major demonstrations in the context of 18-O. From those who occupied the front line of the social revolt in the protest, to those who raised new forms of professional organisation to denounce and attend to the victims of institutional violence exercised by the police, social workers exerted different forms of professional resistance in a highly uncertain and repressive context. We have identified these ways of being present and acting in the face of the prevailing rationality – on the frontline of protest, in political organisation and in denouncing human rights violations – as practices of professional resistance, insofar as they are ways of contesting and challenging coercive practices of social control and oppressive ways in which power relations are exerted (Strier and Bershtling, 2016). Resistance is a cornerstone of radical social work (Ferguson and Lavalette, 2006). As Reininger et al. (2021) have pointed out, the conceptualization of professional resistance in social work literature is broad in scope including and differentiating between professional subversion (Prior and Barnes, 2011); positive deviance (Carey and Foster, 2011); covert workplace activism (Greenslade et al., 2015); rogue professional actions (Weinberg and Taylor, 2014); overt and covert professional resistance (Fine and Teram, 2013); and ethical resistance (Weinberg and Banks, 2019) amongst others. There are two key dimensions of professional resistance which are common to nearly all approaches to the term: it implies verbal and/or physical actions, and involves opposition to measures, regulations, or policies that are considered unjust or inappropriate (Strier and Bershtling, 2016). Professional resistance is underpinned by structural analysis of individual problems and by the desire to support personal and collective liberation and social change (Fook, 1993), and, in that sense, it is the result of multiple intersections between structural and subjective dimensions. Therefore, resistance may take diverse forms and intensities (Mumby et al., 2017). This non-binary approach on resistance implies understanding it as a constitutive element of power – ‘where there is power, there is resistance, and yet, or rather consequently, this resistance is never in a position of exteriority in relation to power’ (Foucault, 1980, pp. 95–96). From this perspective, power and resistance are an entanglement in and between all of us, and in this sense, resistance is not a reaction (where ‘some’ have power and ‘the others’ resist). An act of resistance can challenge domination at the same time as reproducing it (in the same movement), even if this is not the intention (Mumby et al., 2017). That is, an act of resistance can have multiple and unpredictable outcomes, and, as Collinson (2003) has argued, acts of resistance rarely have a single, coherent and easily interpreted outcome. Therefore, each experience of professional

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INDIVIDUAL A

S U

Individual/non-confrontational resistances

C Individual/explicit (insubordination)

(infrapolitics)

R A D

B

I

D T B Collective/non-confrontational Collective/explicit L resistances (insurrection) E (infrapolitics, productive resistances)

C A L

COLECTIVE

Figure 6.1 Four types of professional resistance. Source: Own elaboration based on Mumby et al. (2017) and Strier & Bershtling (2016).

resistance needs to be examined in context, always taking into account the historical, economic and political specificities in which it occurs (Baines, 2017). Mumby et al. (2017) propose a typology where at least four types of resistance are identified according to combinations between two axes (i) intensity (from underground, hidden or subtle resistance to radical and publicly expressed resistance) and (ii) scale (from individual to collective resistance). From the intersection between these axes, they identify four modes of resistance (see Figure 6.1). Infrapolitics, which is subterranean or ‘subtle’ forms of resistance Here it is possible to identify two types of resistance: individual infrapolitics and collective infrapolitics. These are low-profile acts that practitioners engage in quietly, on a day-to-day basis, often without intending them to be resistance per se (Barnes and Prior, 2009) and without explicitly confronting power and authority (Dobson, 2015). This mode of resistance includes omitting information, changing deadlines, feigning ignorance, rushing processes to benefit users, among others, and those who exercise it tend to believe that they have little or no impact (Baines, 2008; Dobson, 2015; Wallace and Pease, 2011). Productive resistance In contrast, resistance mode B: ‘productive resistance’ refers to those practices that aim to create or fill gaps in organisational designs as a way of protesting (Courpasson et al., 2012). In this sense, creativity is resistance. ‘Productive’ resistance is not understood from an adversarial logic (as modes C and D are), and aims to impact on institutional culture by developing counter-hegemonic practices ‘from within’ (Baines, 2011), for example, by promoting collaborative, joint reflection and solidarity-based (rather than individualistic and competitive

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among practitioners) spaces for the creation of intervention approaches and methodologies that benefit service users (Baines, 2006; Kim, 2015; Weinberg and Banks, 2019). Acts of public micro-resistance or insubordination On the other hand, explicit resistance is identified, which is done publicly and in an adversarial or radical manner and is developed by professionals to influence or challenge institutional policies from a perspective of open and direct confrontation, albeit on an individual basis (model C). Here we find, for example, acts of confrontation of institutional practices within the institution itself, lobbying with authorities to denounce institutional practices that harm users, or resigning from the job in a boisterous manner as a form of ‘self-sacrifice’. Public macro-resistance or insurrection Finally, the modes of public macro-resistance or insurrection (D) include public demonstrations, acts of civil disobedience to challenge, or as the name suggests, collectively disobey the institutional mandate, and alliances with social movements, among other collective and macro-scale actions.

Chilean social workers’ experiences of resistance during the 18-O movement Drawing upon the typology of professional resistances proposed by Mumby et al. (2017), we analysed social workers’ testimonies, written documents, and oral presentations. Three forms of resistance can be distinguished in social workers’ actions during the 18-O revolt: (a) the ‘occupation of the streets’ by social workers, (b) the politicisation of professional organisations’ discourses, and (c) the development of orchestrated actions to defend human rights in the context of political violence. From the office to ‘occupying the streets’ Natalia Corrales (2020), a feminist social worker and trade union leader, explains very clearly how the participation of social workers was developing during the revolt and how the call to occupy the streets in solidarity with the movement was gaining momentum: We mobilised, we joined the strikes, the protests, we went out on the streets every day, we were on strike for a long time, risking losing our jobs because we understood that this was the place where we, as social workers, had to be. When the revolt began on 18 October, we were clear […] that we wanted to get Piñera out, to end the neoliberal model that has been oppressing us since the dictatorship, to end Pinochet’s constitution that has

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A recent study (Aldana-Araza, 2021) identified that unlike Natalia, many social workers participated in the revolt spontaneously – without the leadership of any organisation, union or political movement. As Claudia, a female social worker working in a child service in a rural city in the north of Chile reflects: ‘I participated almost every day in the revolt. We as social workers see the deepest inequality every day. I went out to march alone on the streets, to bang on my pot’. She, like many other social workers, reported trying to reconcile her work with the protest every day: As the metro was on fire, there was no public transport; they let us leave work at 4 pm. As people gathered at 6 am in the squares to protest, we managed to get there. In the morning we would do our home visits, come back and march to the square to protest. Other social workers acknowledged a deep fear of violent repression exerted by police forces in the contexts of demonstrations, which inhibited them from participating in street protests every day. In that case, they opted to ‘occupy the streets’ in another way. For example, organising Cabildos (spontaneous citizen meetings developed in schools, churches, community centres, and so on, where groups of people gathered to discuss the causes of the revolt and potential ways to end the political conflict). Raúl, a male social worker working at a Municipality in an urban city in the central zone of Chile, shared: The police violence, the mutilation of the eyes of those protesting, the torture of detainees … I was terrified of that. I chose to organise meetings with children in the area where I work, to promote reflection on the political movement that was taking place; this was the first time that my work was explicitly political. In this case, the work with children aimed at promoting political discussion, something not planned in the intervention guidelines of this social worker but rather intended by him as a way of contributing to the political movement, speaks to us of an individual and subtle resistance (infrapolitics, or resistance mode A), just like Claudia’s (Figure 6.2). The professional intervention of social workers was also affected by the political revolt. Demands for dignity, for redistribution of wealth and power in society, also prompted many social workers to question the instrumental understanding of service user participation, to think of service users as having to participate effectively, with a say on the decisions that are made ‘This shift in understanding professional practice is a radical change that is brought about by the revolt’ (Raúl).

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Figure 6.2 ‘Cabildo’ in a public square in Santiago, 12 December 2019. Source: Paz Valenzuela-Rebolledo’s personal register.

This shift in understanding of service user participation and power, in some cases, was also fuelled by a generalised fear of potential violent service user attacks on social services’ facilities: María, a female social worker working in an NGO in an urban city in the central zone of Chile, illustrates this point: This NGO is a right-wing one, and during the whole revolt I felt that they were terrified that the protest would touch them, that the protesters, who are ultimately our service users themselves, would come and burn down the offices. So we were told to ‘start’ treating them with respect. All these actions by social workers, including spontaneous or organised protest on the streets, reflexive political activities in the neighbourhoods and changing the understanding of service users’ participation, can be understood as acts of professional resistance. More or less orchestrated, more or less productive, individual or collective, these resistances are subtle, as they do not produce an explicit confrontation with the provisions of the employing institutions. María’s case is different. Working in a right-wing NGO made it increasingly incompatible for her to exercise her professional practice and to be consistent with her own ethical and political perspectives. Her testimony is very rich and complex. It shows us the four types of resistance identified in the literature:

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Paz Valenzuela-Rebolledo et al. They asked us to go ‘voluntarily’ one Saturday to clean the metro stations that had been burned in the revolt, and I refused. I didn’t agree … it was like erasing the anger and indignation that gave rise to the movement. I also participated in an ‘olla común’ [‘common pot’2] on Saturday mornings. That was the first time I disobeyed a mandate […] As the managers were afraid that the people who protested would come to loot the offices, or were afraid that people would ‘funara’3 them, I told them that yes, that it was very dangerous. But the reality is that the community appreciated us, and while they were looting the supermarket next door, they never did anything to us. But I told them that we were in danger because we wanted to be allowed to leave work early so we would have time to go to the streets and express our solidarity with the movement. They also asked us to stop some community activities, such as workshops, but I knew that this would affect people’s lives, for example those with severe depression. Both service users and social workers needed to talk about what the people of Chile were going through, to say ‘this is happening in our country, I am afraid, I am angry’. So even though the managers said no to us, we did it anyway.

When Maria disobeyed the instruction to go and clean the metro stations, we can see an explicit micro-resistance or practice of insubordination (type C); when she lied or exaggerated the danger of the context in order to reduce the working day, we observe an individual and subtle resistance (infrapolitics, type A). This last action, however, has a collective political meaning: they wanted to reduce working hours in order to participate in solidarity with the movement, i.e., to join the protest (macro-resistance or insurrection, type D). Finally, when María mentions that they disobeyed the instruction to stop the workshops, she speaks in the plural: ‘they said no to us, but we did it anyway’. In other words, there is a team, coordination with other professionals, to collectively decide to disobey in an orchestrated way (collective/subtle resistance, type B). When the pandemic began in March 2020 and the protests began to wane, María was dismissed on the grounds that she did not enjoy the confidence of the service’s managers. She sued the NGO in the courts for unjustified dismissal, and a few months later, won the lawsuit. The politicisation of social work organisations The traditional social work organisations in Chile – the National Association of Social Workers and the Chilean Association of University Schools of Social Work – also exercised forms of professional resistance in the context of the 18-O revolt. This was collective, orchestrated resistance of a discursive or symbolic nature (collective/subtle resistance, type B) but also of a material and overt nature. These professional organisations linked up with other organisations and broader social movements to express their solidarity with the people’s struggle on the streets (macro-resistance or insurrection, type D).

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The National Association of Social Workers organised ‘cabildos’ to collectively discuss the revolt and the handling of the political crisis. At the same time, it published more than 12 statements that were disseminated by the National Network of Professional Associations, which aimed to denounce the institutional violence affecting the demonstrators on the streets: We declare our unrestricted commitment to human rights, and consequently we will act and support, from our discipline, the initiatives that seek truth, reparation and justice for all victims, making ourselves available for this from our Association and from all the institutions and organisations in which we work […] We declare that we will not accept impunity for these human rights violations, as we have not accepted either the debts that are still pending for the crimes of the civil-military dictatorship. Therefore we will unhesitatingly demand truth, justice, reparation and an end to human rights violations in Chile. (National Association of Social Workers, 2019a) These alliances with wider professional networks and the explicit communication strategy allowed the social workers’ organisation to be present in public discussions and to have a recognised voice on the national scene. In addition, the critical nature of the statements published was particularly well appreciated by the Association’s members. In the past, it has been criticised for its silence regarding the state institutional violence during the post-dictatorial era. During the 18-O there was a very explicit politicisation of the Association’s discourse. In addition to these practices of collective and subtle resistance, of a more discursive nature, an ‘alternative’ movement to traditional social work organisations was created, which even sought to distinguish itself from them (Morales, 2020). This new organisation, which was created spontaneously in the face of protests and human rights violations, was the so-called Self-Convened Assembly of Social Workers. It was an organisation that developed a veiled critique of traditional professional organisations and proposed to channel the need for a more radical professional organisation, based on the idea of ‘selfconvene’, spontaneous, without vertical leadership and without attribution of representation (Morales, 2020). Their radical, Marxist-inspired discourse is clearly reflected in their discourses: We recognise the class struggle and the domination of one class over the other through the neoliberal model that leads to inequality and injustice […] We social workers have witnessed how the neoliberal capitalist system has installed a structural violence that directly impacts on the exercise of the fundamental rights of the most forgotten sectors of our country […] The profession is called upon to show the urgent nature of the social, economic and political demands for which today the people have demonstrated in the streets and in every neighbourhood, recognising these demands as part of a historical process of class struggle […] Therefore, our training and

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Paz Valenzuela-Rebolledo et al. professional practice must be reflexive-critical, conscious and fighting, in tune with the demands of the Chilean people for change. (Self-Convened Assembly of Social Workers 2019b)

The call of this organisation has a material expression: it does not only disseminate statements, as traditional organisations do, but also directly calls for mobilisation and collective protest in the square where massive protests took place, Plaza Dignidad (See Figure 6.3): We call for social workers to take to the streets to reject the repressive agenda of the Government. It contains laws strategically designed to mask their real intentions: to intimidate, violate and abuse the people and thus discourage protest on the basis of legal artifices, which we cannot allow. NO to the criminalisation of the social movement!! NO to the impunity of those with political and criminal responsibility who have violated HR and civil rights once again!! (Self-Convened Assembly of Social Workers 2019c)

Figure 6.3 Self-Convened Assembly of Social Workers’ flyer, calling for social workers to protest in the Square ‘Plaza Dignidad’. Source: Paz Valenzuela-Rebolledo’s personal register.

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The call to demonstrate on the streets, as a union, speaks to us of a type of resistance much closer to type D professional resistances (macro-resistances or calls for insurrectionary practices). The ‘October Commission’: Building memory and denouncing human rights violations One of the many groups that had intentions to act in the face of the increasing situations of police violence observed or experienced in the first days of the social revolt was a group of students and academics from the Department of Social Work at the University of Chile. They began to express their intentions to organise an action in the face of the increasing violations against people who were demonstrating in various territories. As Gabriela Rubilar commented, a few days after the start of the curfew and the installation of the military on the streets again, as in the worst days of the Pinochet dictatorship, a group of students and academics stood up because they felt that something had to be done about the rights that had been violated during the demonstrations (Gabriela Rubilar Talk #2 June 2020). Four days after the start of the social revolt, on 22 October, an assembly was carried out. Two commissions resulted from the discussions: the ‘propaganda commission’, in charge of disseminating various initiatives and activities that were taking place and the ‘October Commission’, which would aim to register and make visible the experiences of citizens regarding political violence in the context of social protest (Letelier and Norambuena, 2021). The October Commission was dedicated to collecting, analysing and disseminating testimonies that reflected the human rights violations, focusing on testimonies from the Valparaíso and the Metropolitan region of Chile, as the commission’s participants lived in or frequented these regions. This group constituted a permanent volunteer work team between October 2019 and January 2020, where both students and academics were involved in recording, reporting and dissemination, ‘with the intention of contributing to a future social work memory that would not allow oblivion or impunity’ (Talk 3 December 2020). The October Commission functioned on the basis of the division of various tasks, organising regular meetings between the participants to coordinate these commitments. A group of students and academics conducted interviews with people affected by or witnesses to human rights violations. These interviews were carried out in person under the protection of the confidentiality and anonymity of the interviewees. An informed consent was drawn up to guarantee the ethical safeguards of this work, and in turn, a collaborative relationship was established with the National Association of Social Workers. This professional organisation opened the doors of its headquarters so social work students could have a physical place to conduct the interviews on a regular basis, which protected the participants. Interviews were transcribed and testimonies were re-constructed. A group of students and academics selected excerpts from interviews, and then, the illustrator and visual artist Amalia Álvarez (on Instagram called @amalia.alvarez.r) designed illustrations that were later used in templates to complement the different

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testimonies, as well as fanzines, infographics and comics to disseminate within the virtual platforms and print to disseminate at demonstrations, cabildos and other political activities. Two social networks to disseminate the work were created: Instagram (@comision.octubre) and Facebook (Comisión Octubre, 2019) (Figure 6.4). The October Commission disseminated anonymised testimonies describing such affectations as threats, being shot at, arbitrary detentions, beatings, eye trauma, political and sexual violence, drowning due to breathing chemicals to disperse demonstrators and even testimonies of people who witnessed the death of demonstrators; also accounts of people who received support from rescuers and health informal groups in the midst of protests and experiences of health professionals who were attending hospital centres during this period (Figure 6.5). Between October 2019 and January 2020, the October Commission managed to interview 80 people, as well as publish more than 140 extracts of testimonies about police violence and two fanzines/comics illustrating stories of repression. As a practice of resistance that we could conceptualise as productive (type B according to the literature), this commission contributed to the construction of social memory during the 18-O, an event considered to be the peak of the violation of rights that Chile has experienced in the 21st century. As Letelier and Norambuena (2021) have pointed out, this commission’s work repositioned professional work in the field of human rights on the basis of documented testimonial denunciation through the production of artefacts of memory, in a kind of continuity of the work that previously was carried out by social workers who defended human rights during the Pinochet dictatorship in the 1970s and the 1980s (del Villar, 2018). This experience connects us with the professional past of social work and enables us to think about, from a critical perspective, our challenges in the current political process we are going through as a society: the process of constitutional change. As a result of the 18-O movement, a plebiscite was held in October 2020, which ended up defining, by a large majority, the need for constitutional change. In April 2021, the people in charge of drafting the new constitution were elected, creating the Constitutional Convention, which guaranteed reserved seats for indigenous peoples for the first time in Chilean history. The Constitutional Convention also secures gender parity in the allocation of seats, making Chile the first country in the world with a constitution drafted by an equal number of women and men (Mojica, 2020). These results undoubtedly represent a triumph for the 18-O movement. However, the Constitutional Convention soon began to be criticised by the farright sector, hindering the Convention functioning and spreading fake news, among other actions. At the same time, the leader of the far-right began to rise in the polls, creating a climate of political polarisation very similar to that which occurred at the end of the Pinochet dictatorship in 1988, when the plebiscite that defined the return to democracy took place. The height of the political dispute came in the first round of the presidential election in November 2021, when the candidate of the far-right won the first

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Figure 6.4 Comic by Amalia Álvarez (@amalia.alvarez.r) for the October Commission, November 2019. Source: Instagram Comisión Octubre @comision.octubre.

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Figure 6.5 Call for sharing testimonies related to human rights violations in the context of the 18-O, November 2019. Source: Instagram Comisión Octubre @comision.octubre.

majority. The second round of the presidential election, one month later, was extremely close, and in the end, the candidate of the left – 35-year-old Gabriel Boric, one of the leaders of the student movement – won the election with 55.87% of the vote. This represents a victory for the 18-O movement that fills with hope the people who yearn for profound social transformations not only to the political constitution inherited from the dictatorship but also to the development model as a whole. In this scenario, new challenges related to the safeguarding of democracy emerge for those progressive sectors including the promotion of citizen education and critical awareness so that citizens can distinguish fake news, understand political processes, and participate in the discussion of the new constitutional text. Revolutionary social work has much to contribute to these new challenges. The involvement in political action, community work and the creation of alliances with social movements and organisations is essential to take part in the new disputes of this political moment.

Conclusion Analysed from a historical perspective, Chilean social work has been facing old ghosts: violation of human rights, state’s violence and labour precariousness, just as occurred during the Pinochet dictatorship. However, it is precisely this violent scenario that demands us to re-think the political scope of professional identity and resist against violence and injustice. The testimonies, documents and images presented here show how different forms of resistance were developed by social workers in a time of political chaos, uncertainty and institutional violence. As in the times of the Pinochet dictatorship, many social workers took

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to the streets to protest, to work with the community, to accompany children, to participate in professional organisations and to fight for the defence of human rights. Fear was present – not all social workers were at the frontline of the revolt – as the trauma of the dictatorship is still alive. However, there was no lack of other creative ways of reinventing critical professional intervention: workshops, conversations, citizens’ meetings, the creation of audio-visual material and the use of social networks were developed as strategies to contribute to political reflection in these violent times. There were reprisals and some social workers lost their jobs, but professional organisation was also strengthened and explicitly politicised. The de-professionalisation that social work has been facing in recent decades can be challenged through these practices of resistance, as they show that political commitment and collaborative work, with the public impact from our professional knowledge, is possible. As a consequence of the 18-O movement, Chile is now facing the possibility of dismantling the political Constitution created by Pinochet which has been the basis of the neoliberal model currently in force. The triumph of leftist and progressive forces, that resulted in Gabriel Boric being elected as President, represents a partial victory for the 18-O movement. There is still much work to do to preserve the dreams and expectations of the people of Chile who claimed that Chile woke up the 18th of October 2019. Today we face a key moment to challenge structural mechanisms that reproduce inequality and oppression, violence and authoritarian rules installed since the dictatorship. The challenge remains for social work – professional organisations, social work students, academics and social work researchers – to make injustice visible and to strengthen the role of the profession, based on a commitment to human rights, dignity and social justice. Hasta que la dignidad se haga costumbre.

Notes 1 Acknowledgments: Research Project FONDECYT Regular N°1201685 ‘Professional resistances in frontline policy implementation’ (2020–2023), National Agency for Research and Development (ANID), Chilean Government. 2 ‘Common pots’ are activities where people cook and eat together as a community. Ingredients are generally donations. Common pots occurs generally in shanty towns, but during the 18-O these initiatives spread in diverse neighbourhoods. 3 In Chile, a ‘funa’ is a rude, heckling and punitive public act to denounce a situation considered unjust. Funas are highly animated, often accompanied with throwing of objects and insults and aim to disrupt normal functions of institutions and people in order to bring to light the facts denounced.

References Aldana-Araza, G. (2021). El Deseo Capturado. Investigación del impacto del movimiento del 18-O en la intervención social de trabajadores/as sociales. Santiago: University of Chile.

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Heinrich Boll Foundation. (2020). ‘El estallido de las violaciones a los derechos humanos en chile’. Informe sobre los derechos humanos 18 octubre 2019 -12 de marzo 2020 [online]. Available at: https://cl.boell.org/sites/default/files/2020-12/INFORME_ COMPLETO_19_DIC.pdf. (Accessed 25 March 2022). Kim, S. (2015). ‘Street-level struggles against marketisation: a case study of nonprofits in a south korean workfare partnership programme’, Critical social policy [online], 35(2), pp. 207–227. 10.1177/0261018314563038. (Accessed 25 March 2022). Letelier, F. & Norambuena, M. P. (2021). ‘Trabajo social: artefactos de denuncia y memoria durante la Dictadura y el estallido social en chile. Iberoforum’, Revista De Ciencias Sociales [online], 1(1), pp. 1–37. Available at: https://iberoforum.ibero.mx/ index.php/iberoforum/article/view/150. (Accessed: 25 March 2022). Mojica, C. (2020). ‘Chile celebrates a gender equality milestone [online]’. Available at: https://www.undp.org/blog/chile-celebrates-gender-equality-milestone. (Accessed: 25 March 2022). Morales, P. (2010). “Se hace camino al andar …”. Trabajo social y derechos humanos en Chile: De la atención de casos a la denuncia documentada. 1973–2003. En M. González, Historias del Trabajo Social en Chile 1925–2008, Santiago: Ediciones Técnicas de Educación Superior, pp. 179–203. Morales, C. (2020). ‘Colectivos de Trabajo social en chile: Una posibilidad de resistencia ante el neoliberalismo’. Unpublished Dissertation, University of Chile. Mumby, D., Thomas, R., Marti, I., and Seidl, D. (2017). ‘Resistance redux’, Organization Studies [online], 38(9), pp. 1157–1183. 10.1177/0170840617717554. (Accessed 25 March 2022). Muñoz-Arce, G. (2022). The neoliberal turn in chilean social work: frontline struggles against individualism and fragmentation. In E. Marthinsen, N. Skjefstad, A. Juberg and P. M. Garrett (eds.) Social work and neoliberalism. UK: Routledge. Muñoz-Arce, G., and Pantazis, C. (2019). ‘Social exclusion, neoliberalism and resistance: The role of social workers in implementing social policies in Chile’, Critical Social Policy [online], 39(1), pp. 127–146. 10.1177/0261018318766509. (Accessed: 25 March 2022). National Institute of Human Rights (2019). ‘Informe anual sobre la situación de los derechos humanos en chile en el contexto de la crisis social’. 17 Octubre–30 de Noviembre 2019 [online]. Available at: https://bibliotecadigital.indh.cl/bitstream/ handle/123456789/1701/Informe%20Final-2019.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y/. (Accessed: 25 March 2022). Prior, D., and Barnes, M. (2011). ‘Subverting social policy on the front line: agencies of resistance in the delivery of services’, Social Policy & Administration [online], 45(3), pp. 264–279. 10.1111/j.1467-9515.2011.00768.x. (Accessed: 25 March 2022). Reininger, T., Muñoz-Arce, G., and Villalobos, C. (2021). ‘Possibilities for new social work professional resistance in chile: times of social change?’, Critical and Radical Social Work [online], 20(20), pp. 1–16. 10.1332/204986021X16231574915707. (Accessed: 25 March 2022). Saracostti, M., Reininger, T., and Parada, H. (2012). Social work in latin America. In K. Lyons, T. Hokenstad, M. Pawar, N. Huegler and N. Hall (eds.) The Sage Handbook of International Social Work. London/New York: Sage. Somma, N., Bargsted, M., Disi Pavlic, R., and Medel, R. (2021). ‘No water in the oasis: The chilean spring of 2019–2020’, Social Movement Studies [online], 4(20), pp. 495–502. 10. 1080/14742837.2020.1727737?journalCode=csms20. (Accessed: 25 March 2022).

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Strier, R., and Bershtling, O. (2016). ‘Professional resistance in social work: counterpractice assemblages’, Social Work [online], 61(2), pp. 111–118. Available at: https:// pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/27180521/. (Accessed 25 March 2022). Wallace, J., and Pease, B. (2011). ‘Neoliberalism and australian social work: accommodation or resistance?’ Journal of Social Work [online], 11, pp. 132–142. 10.1177/ 1468017310387318. (Accessed 25 March 2022). Weinberg, M., and Banks, S. (2019) ‘Practicing ethically in unethical times: everyday resistance in social work’, Ethics and Social Welfare [online], 13(4), pp. 361–376. 10. 1080/17496535.2019.1597141?journalCode=resw20. (Accessed: 25 March 2022). Weinberg, M., and Taylor, S. (2014). ‘Rogue’ social workers: the problem with rules for ethical behaviour’, Critical Social Work [online], 15(1), pp. 74–86. Available at: http:// ethicsinthehelpingprofessions.socialwork.dal.ca/wp-content/uploads/2015/03/ Weinberg_Taylor_2014-copy.pdf. (Accessed: 25 March 2022).

Appendix: Documents, Talks and Conferences analysed Chilean Asociation of University Schools of Social Work (2019a). Statement posted on 01/03/2019, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/Achetsu/photos/ 746042609129438 Chilean Asociation of University Schools of Social Work (2019b). Statement posted on 20/10/ 2019, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/Achetsu/posts/ 895137557553275 Chilean Asociation of University Schools of Social Work (2020). Statement posted on 03/10/2020, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/Achetsu/posts/ 1171969136536781. Self-Convened Assembly of Social Workers (2019a). Doc.1. Information. Posted on 29/10/ 2019, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/groups/2571945752852614 Self-Convened Assembly of Social Workers (2019b). Doc. 2. Report “Conversatorio Autoconvocado y masivo de Trabajo Social” and statement posted on 17/11/2019, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/groups/2571945752852614/ permalink/2572049742842215/ Self-Convened Assembly of Social Workers (2019c). ‘Declaración de la Asamblea de Trabajadorxs Sociales Autoconvocadxs de Santiago y alrededores (ATSA)’. Statement posted on 10/12/2019, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/groups/ 2571945752852614/permalink/2625472594166596/ National Association of Social Workers (2019a). Statement posted on 24/10/ 2019, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/provinstgo/posts/2436933643095572 National Association of Social Workers (2019b). Statement posted on 11/10/2019, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/provinstgo/photos/a.445277512261205/ 2549760828479519/ National Association of Social Workers (2020). ‘Crítica al retorno de funciones laborales en contexto de pandemia’. Statement posted on 25/04/2020, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/provinstgo/posts/2842955949160004?__tn__=K-R Natalia Corrales (2020). ‘Talk #1. Latinoamérica en revuelta: reflexiones desde Trabajo social feminista en chile’. Date: 26/08/2021, viewed 25 March 2022. https:// colegiotsmendoza.org.ar/latinoamerica-en-revuelta-reflexiones-desde-trabajo-socialfeminista-en-chile/

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Gabriela Rubilar (2020). ‘Talk #2. Pensar a Trabajo social en Tiempos Críticos. Sesión 2’. Violencia institucional y derechos humanos. Date: 14/06/2020, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/watch/live/?ref=watch_permalink&v=3366882646657471 Comisión Octubre (2020). ‘Talk #3. Conversaciones de ida y vuelta sobre Trabajo social y derechos humanos: desafíos al quehacer profesional en tiempos de revuelta’. Primera parte. Date: 07/12/2020, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/watch/ live/?ref=watch_permalink&v=2439177839723349 Comisión Octubre (2020). ‘Talk #4. Conversaciones de ida y vuelta sobre Trabajo social y derechos humanos: desafíos al quehacer profesional en tiempos de revuelta’. Segunda parte. Date: 07/12/2020, viewed 25 March 2022. https://www.facebook.com/watch/ live/?ref=watch_permalink&v=2439177839723349

7

Crises, Social Work and Movements: The Greek Case Dimitra-Dora Teloni

Introduction From 2008 global financial crisis, the so-called refugee crisis in the summer of 2015 to the global health crisis of Covid-19 pandemic, the past years may be defined as the ‘age of crises’. During the writing of this chapter, a new wave of Afghan refugees is expected as the US withdrew its forces from Afghanistan in August 2021 after a 20-year military intervention. All while the climate change is leaving its mark on the environment, people and animals. The term ‘crisis’ in social work is usually examined as an ‘episode’ in peoples’ lives, an incident which breaks down the homeostasis and disturbs the individuals’ life equilibrium. Within the neoliberal context of welfare, social workers are often asked to interfere during a specific period in which individuals or communities endure a crisis. These short-term individualistic approach to social work interventions do not offer the space for a deeper understanding of what triggered the crisis nor the opportunity to establish suitable structural and institutional preventive interventions. Instead, professionals are required by the government and related agencies to deliver ‘fast track services’ rather than investing on community-based services (Papadopoulou and Teloni, forthcoming). In practice, however, crises are not episodes. They occur within a particular social, financial and political context with severe implications, especially when the crisis is recurrent. Thus, no short-term or spasmatic intervention will suffice to improve people’s lives. In this sense, it is vital for social scientists to conceptualize the structural causes of the various crises as social work approaches influence directly the interventions in practice. To this end, the argument here is that the crises of the past decade are interconnected within the neoliberal capitalist system. The current chapter explores the continuity of the crises within capitalism in the Greek case. The first issue that will be addressed is the 2008 financial crisis that was exploited in order to promote neoliberal policies, which were further exacerbated by the second so-called refugee crisis with even more hostile policies against refugees. Emphasizing on the continuation of these crises acknowledges the political and social framework that has critically impacted social workers’ ability to (a) understand the context of the ‘crisis’ (b) recognize the DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-7

Crises, Social Work and Movements 129 political and social causes of the hardships and injustice confronted by those in need of social work intervention the users and communities (c) become aware of the consequences of the policies they are required to be implemented (d) plan their interventions. The policy’s implementation – based on instructions and laws or guidelines – dictated by either agencies or employer-government, may only provide temporary relief to users without addressing the structural causes. A second issue that will be explored is collective action, which will provide how social and political movements responded to the austerity measures, racism, fascism and neoliberal policies. The examples will be analysed under the prism of Radical Social Work, which also includes Popular Social Work (Jones and Lavalette, 2013). At the heart of this theoretical framework lays the concept of collective and political action, connecting social work with social and political movements struggling for social justice. Since 2000, numerous social movements have emerged such as, the Disability Movement, Mental Health Movement, Anti-Racist Movement and Anti-Globalization Movement, amongst others (Ferguson, 2008). The main aim is to explore whether various forms of collective action can be linked with social work towards the direction of social change, social justice and, especially, revolutionary social work as is the scope of the current book. To this end, the chapter will delve into the role of social work in social movements and collective action aim at promoting equity and social justice. Drawing on the findings of our field-research in the past decade, I will attempt to illustrate dayto-day social work practices that constitute an inspiration to collective political action, activism and social movements. By examining specific grassroots welfare and solidarity initiatives, I will also discuss the implementation of social innovation, or ‘alternative’ forms of social services and whether they are connected to the social work infrastructure. If so, what sort of opportunities do they provide to revolutionary social work’s analysis and praxis. The first section will initially delineate the solidarity-resistance movements’ response to the neoliberal measures at the wake of the financial crisis. Then, it will explore its interconnection/affiliation to social work, by examining the solidarity clinics (SCs), as a grassroots welfare initiative. The second section will provide a socio-political framework of the ‘refugee crisis’. It will rely on a recent field-research to provide evidence regarding the role of social work and its affiliation to the anti-racist movement in Greece during the ‘refugee crisis’. Finally, the third section will present and discuss the main findings.

Financial crisis: Resistance and solidarity Crisis, austerity and resistance Welfare state in Greece never developed on a systemic level, beyond some limited social benefits. Since the 1990s, the public social service sector has been further weakened due to neoliberal measures through the promotion of NGOs, the public–private partnership and the growing numbers of underpaid employees

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(Iοakimidis and Teloni, 2013; Teloni, 2011b). A relevant study showed that, even prior to the financial crisis, the social services in local authorities i.e., municipality or county welfare departments were understaffed, with no social policy on a local level. Moreover, it indicated that social workers neither were provided with a clear mandate nor had fundamental logistical support, which led to an unmanageable workload. It further demonstrated that due to the lack of adequate social policy, the majority of cases which social workers worked with was poverty. The main tasks of social workers were to provide temporary relief to the deprived population. The professionals experienced high-levels of disappointment and anxiety, while deputy mayors of social policy continuously interfered in social workers’ professional activities. Beside limited provisions, the professionals were struggling to assist to their users (Teloni, 2011b). Poverty in Greece was high even prior to the crisis. Indicatively, between 1994 and 2009, ‘the risk for relative poverty was 20%–22%, while the European average rate was 15%–17%’ (Papatheodorou, 2018, p. 49). Even though the mainstream media purposefully cultivated the perception that Greeks were over-spenders and lazy, the facts on the ground ‘demonstrate that social protection expenditure remained constantly lower than the average European one’ (ibid, p. 56). Rather than viewing the 2008 global financial crisis, in Greece and elsewhere, as an endemic to capitalism, it has been used as a pretext to implement severe austerity measures and promote neoliberal policies (Papatheodorou, 2018; Sotiris, 2019) i.e., deregulating labour relations and workers’ rights; decreasing pensions and salaries; and crashing cuts in wages, pensions, health, welfare, social rights and so forth. Consequently, the 2010–2015 austerity measures in Greece were a launching pad to further pursue budgetary constraints on the public social services which affected social work not only by employment restrictions but also on an educational level as many social work departments were either shutdown or merged with other university departments. Notwithstanding, based on ‘victim blaming’ narrative, the Greek government and Troika (International Monetary Fund, European Central Bank, European Commission), applied, what Naomi Klein (2007) describes as, ‘Shock Doctrine’ strategy. On the public discourse level, there was a constant demonization of the public sector and social welfare expenditures (Papatheodorou, 2018) followed by strict austerity measures and privatizations which affected many segments of the population. Suicide rate increased by 40% between 2009 and 2011 (Kentikelenis et al., 2011); between 2013 and 2015, poverty rate reached 48% (Papatheodorou, 2018), whereas unemployment skyrocketed. Meanwhile, between 2010–2015, Greece developed ‘contentious cycles’ (Tarrow, 1998) and movements as sources of resistance against neoliberal policies and solidarity structures to confront the population’s poverty and wretchedness (Serdedakis and Tombazos, 2018). The anti-austerity protest cycle was manifested (Kotronaki 2018; Serdedakis, 2018) in three waves. In 2011, the first wave encapsulated massive protests and anti-austerity demands; in 2012, the second wave took the form of solidarity initiatives with strong ‘democratic and anti-fascist claims’ and, finally, in

Crises, Social Work and Movements 131 2014–2015, the third wave ‘was identified with the domestication of protest forms’, the gradual relocation of the ‘memorandum/anti-memorandum’ cleavage from the streets to the parliament. In fact, the transmutation of movement expectations from social change visions through contentious activity to parliamentary ones emerged with the rise of the left-wing party Synaspismos Rizozpastikis Aristeras/SYRIZA [Coalition of the Radical Left] and its victory in the national elections (Kotronaki and Christou, 2019; Kotronaki, 2018, p. 329). While socio-political dynamics are beyond the book’s scope, a brief reference is necessary in order to better understand movements that developed during 2010–2015. The purpose here is to highlight the differences between the forms of protests and resistance. What is important is to explore the way solidarity/ grassroots welfare initiatives developed, particularly in the second wave, e.g., collective kitchens, SCs, youth solidarity conservatory, social stores and timebanks. In the course of those four years, approximately 300 grassroots welfare initiatives were stablished across Greece (Solidarity for All, 2014), many of which had a dual purpose: resistance and solidarity. Greek Social Work Action Network (SWAN) and its members, who were connected with the anti-racist movement, along with the community’s inhabitants suffering from poverty, established a three-year radical community development project. Furthermore, Greek SWAN members participated with no compensation in the Solidarity Medical Clinic of Patras for over a year and in tens of demonstrations against the shutdown of social work department in Technological Institute of Patras (for more, see Teloni, 2017 and Greek Swan’s site socialworkers.gr). Amongst the most important solidarity initiatives in regard to health activism between 2010 and 2015, as Kotronaki and Christou (2019) claim, were the SCs and Pharmacies. The field-research allows us to shed further light on these social projects, as most were mostly self-organized and autonomous ventures. In relation to social work, the most vital aspects of these ventures are that they: a b c

provide service across-the-board, with no discrimination nor exclusion; exert political pressure through social and political actions, demanding the improvement of public healthcare; and provide traces of ‘another social work which is possible’ that counterbalances the dominant neoliberal model.

Their practices constitute an example of an alternative social services model—which includes community and political action, macrolevel interventions and even in some cases, radicalization of day-to-day practices. Due to these reasons and in hope that these examples may be able to contribute and inspire social work in a larger scheme beyond Greece, as well as contribute to the debate on revolutionary social work, in the following section, we will present a more detailed discussion on the health care and its impact during the financial crisis, as well as the function of SCs as an innovative form of health and social care and its connection with social work.

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The implications of cuts to health services and the rise of the solidarity medical clinics Health care in Greece is provided by the National Healthcare Service (ESY in Greek), since the early 1980s. However, from the 1990s and on, it has been subjected to neoliberal measures on a systematic level. The state’s standard practice, on the one hand, is to obscure healthcare public infrastructure both in the public discourse and practice. On the other hand, it promotes direct and indirect privatization policies—e.g., synergy between public and private sector and understaffing the former—while fortifying the private health sector, lead the citizens to the latter. The financial crisis was utilized to accelerate the privatization process in Greece. The overall public expenditure between 2011 and 2012 was reduced by 30% (Kentikelenis et al., 2014), which included 30% decrease of the healthcare budget, while reports indicated a 30% rise of admissions in public hospitals, due to the dire social context (Ifanti et al., 2013). Beside health workers’ low wages (Simou and Koutsogeorgou, 2014), outpatient clinic fees increased from €3 to €5 (Karanikolos et al., 2013). The healthcare system was further burdened by the population’s mental health deterioration (Ifanti et al., 2013) and the increased HIV cases amongst substance abusers (Ifanti et al., 2013; Kentikelenis et al., 2011), who, like others, lacked access to healthcare. Approximately, 2.5 million people were excluded from the National Insurance System (Petmesidou et al., 2014), and, by extension, from the National Health System. It was within this context that SCs emerged in 2010. By 2015, they had 72 active clinics across the country (Adam and Teloni, 2015). Doctors, nurses, social workers and psychologists provided free primary health care, medication prescription, physiotherapy, nursery, speech therapy and social work (Teloni and Adam, 2018), respectively. This initiative was a response to the austerity measures that were plaguing the population. In addition, many of the activists, who belonged to the broader solidarity movement at the time, participated in social and political action for the public healthcare system. Paradoxically, one of SC’s mottoes was ‘we are fighting for our abolishment’, indicating that SCs did not seek to substitute the National Healthcare System, nor become a non-governmental organization (NGO). On the contrary, they demanded the strengthening of ESY (National Health Care System), including the termination of austerity measures and memorandum policies along with anti-fascism and racism. These political claims for a public and universal health sector are extremely vital nowadays since the Covid-19 pandemic has emphasized the necessity for a strong national healthcare system. This paves the way for social workers to claim public social services funding that have been curtailed by neoliberal policies and counterbalances neoliberal capitalism. Furthermore, these forms of actions that stem from social movements (i.e. SCs) have illustrated the necessity to exercise political pressure continuously as an indispensable part of day-to-day practice, by incorporating the social work users on a community level rather than containing it within social work bureaucracy. SCs’ actions focused towards this

Crises, Social Work and Movements 133 direction through mobilization, collective protests and campaigns in Greece and abroad. It also documented the repercussion of the healthcare budget cuts on the population through e.g., internal mailing lists, coordinating meetings with relevant associations, unions and health organizations on a national level. Our field-research highlighted social works involvement in the SCs project. During the time of the research, there was a presence of social workers in 24 out of the 56 SCs. Among the 84 social workers, some of whom were Greek SWAN members, some participated voluntarily within the context of the solidarity movement, while others, who are part of SCs, were compensated. There was another group of social workers that were involved in referrals. Social workers in hospitals, state social services and even NGOs would refer to SCs numerous users that had been left out from the health structures due to the austerity measures (Teloni and Adam, 2018). It should be noted that social movements are not homogenous (Della Porta and Diani, 2006). Consequently, social movements’ grassroots welfare initiatives have differences, contradictions and do not necessarily share common aims and scope. The research found that although half of the SCs were from the movements, the remaining were either from the municipalities, churches, third-sector organizations, medical associations or the union of hospital doctors. Thus, SCs essentially fostered an interconnection of many ideologies. The clinics that were associated with the social movements perceived their role as healthcare providers as well as agitators that intervene in the restoration of public healthcare system. The dual aim of solidarity and agitation in the name of a universal public health system is one of the main characteristics of SCs (Adam and Teloni, 2015). Another important element of SCs is that its modus operandi was based on solidarity rather than philanthropy (ibid), which, as Mendes (2007) argues, ideologies, among other factors such as organizational factors, professional and educational ones, may strengthen or limit the links between social work and social activism. Similarly, our research findings highlight the correlation between social work practice and ideology. For instance, the role of compensated social workers in clinics was primarily bureaucratic and involved screening users’ documents. Notwithstanding, the volunteer social workers were more active, either in the holistic assessments of users, providing social support or advocacy, encouraging the users and informing them about the role of collective action and providing information on welfare rights, amongst other things. Given SCs’ strict access, the volunteer social workers were more flexible with these criteria, which—due to their political/ideological background (Adam and Teloni, 2015)—provided them more ‘freedom’ in their work. It should be noted, however, that in practice, the notion of the deserving/undeserving user has been eclipsing within the SCs, especially among those associated with social movements. Instead, the approach is trust-based. This was also evident in the interview processes of users, which was most inclusive with a holistic approach to better assess and provide the users’ needs. Unlike the social work within the neoliberal context, which is dominated by bureaucratization, managerialism and

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alienation (Ferguson and Lavalette, 2004; Jones, 2001), this is an alternative social work practice. The aforementioned findings are not limited to SCs. They are applicable to a broader range of sectors as the ideological and organizational framework plays an important role wherever social work in practised. The research showed that in the case of SCs, social work, which was affiliated with social movements, was progressive and radical. The more holistic and political role combines both the social and emotional support required to assist the people individually via interventions such as interviews with the users, information on their welfare rights, advocacy, community work and organizing volunteers. Additionally, some social workers are also contributing in community and political action, as they are involved in the SCs solidarity movement, participating in demonstrations and campaigns and demanding rights for public health services (Teloni and Adam, 2018). After the election of SYRIZA/ANEL in 2015, most SCs essentially stopped providing their services. The new government took measures that enabled healthcare access, including the population with no health insurance. One may argue that the movement was rather successful in two main aspects. First, it offered an alternative paradigm of primary healthcare. Second, its alliance with other anti-austerity movements through their ‘collective identities of struggle’ (Sotiris, 2019, p. 2) was able to impact policy, at least regarding specific aspects in the health sector.

Refugee ‘crisis’: Anti-racist movement and social work In this part of the chapter, I will firstly present and critically discuss the term ‘refugee crisis’ with regard to the general context of anti-migratory policies by EU. Then I will discuss the links and interplay between the anti-racist movement and social work practice. In the last part of this section, I will present examples of social work responses to ‘refugee crisis’ with regard to the findings of recent research in the field. The continuity of the refugee ‘crisis’: Hostile policies, closed borders and refugees’ mortality rate Amidst the financial crisis, another ‘crisis’ emerged in the summer of 2015. It came to be known as the ‘refugee crisis’. The term ‘crisis’ embraces three elements: first, it insinuates unpredictability, urgency, exceptionality and danger, which, in turn, requires equivalent urgent measures. The second is the element of surprise, which implies that what is happening was not happening before. Third, it infers to a substantial size of refugee population. None of which reflect reality. In reference to the unpredictability and exceptionalism, refugee influxes are a result of multiple factors ranging from colonialism, imperialism and wars to socio-political and economic factors to poverty, inequality and climate change. Thus, since 2000, similar ‘crises’ occurred regularly. Thousands of refugees sought to reach Europe since the wake of the US and EU wars in Iraq and

Crises, Social Work and Movements 135 Afghanistan, peaking in 2012 with approximately 2.6 million Afghans, the most populous ethnicity among refugees at the time. Finally, while it is true that in 2015 over one million refugees crossed the Mediterranean borders (UNHCR, 2018), it never reached that high in the following years. Notwithstanding, these elements were meant to signal urgency and exceptionalism, and shape European discourse and measures that would follow. The EU’s anti-migration policies treated migrants either directly or indirectly as a threat. Paradoxically, in the Western subconscious, the foreigner—whether migrant or refugee—had become the ‘culprit’ of all the mishaps in its society; in reality, the mishaps were caused by neoliberal policies, be they the rise of the unemployment rate, social services budget cuts or increasing crime rate. Initially, in Greece, ‘the new SYRIZA/ANEL government implemented a more humane policy vis-à-vis the refugees, by ending unlawful practices on the sea borders, decreasing detentions and police repression. For a brief period, the state did not appear as the human right abuser’ (Maniatis, 2018, p. 906). However, the EUTurkey agreement on March 2016, also known as the ‘Shame Treaty’ reversed the situation. With the gradual border closure, refugees in Greece were henceforth trapped under dire conditions; a policy which continues to apply, prohibiting them to travel from the islands to the mainland. One of the repercussions of the treaty, along with EU’s refusal to accept refugees, was the unequal distribution of refugees among the EU countries, at the expense of the southern European member-states (Kasparek, 2016). EU’s main policy was to return refugees, who were attempting to reach the more prosperous northern European countries with more job opportunities, to the first country of reception/asylum. Fortress Europe is entrenched in the southern member-states (ibid), but is gradually being externalized; Libya, for instance, is detaining hundreds of refugees unlawfully, while subjected to torture (Amnesty International, 2020). These policies did not occur like a bolt from the blue due to the ‘crisis’. Instead, they may be traced back in 2000, evolving steadily into repressive and hostile measures against the migrants and refugees. Initially, the conceptualization of threat, that was founded on the sense of fear towards foreigners, dominated public discourse. The crystallization of this discourse on the European realm was translated into Dublin II, Common Asylum Procedures, Eurodac of 2005, the Stockholm Programme, Frontex, deportation and return agreements. Member-states’ cooperation was based on the ‘war against illegal migration’, which illustrates the EU strategy and tactics regarding the refugees prior to the ‘crisis’ (Teloni and Mantanika, 2015, Teloni, 2011a). The EU’s policy circumlocutorily fuels far-right and fascist tendencies, making more palpable the disturbing phenomenon of fascism and racism on a global scale. In Greece, this was mirrored in the rise of Golden Dawn, which attained seats in the Parliament in 2012, in the numerous assassinations of migrants and refugees, as well as the anti-fascist activist Pavlos Fissas, the exploitation of migrants in the ‘slave market’ of Manolada run by locals and the social cannibalistic phenomena such as that of the lynching and the killing of Zak/Zackie in 2018 in down town Athens.

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According to the Racist Violence Recording Network’s report (2018, p. 5), Greece by 2018 “was experiencing an even greater increase in racist attacks especially against the migrants. This rise is related to the polarizing policies on a universal level in regard to refugees and migrants, in combination to national and local factors that shape the Greek reality. The support for far-right parties in Europe encourages the xenophobic violent groups”, who are increasingly claiming public space […] far-right, neo-Nazi and extreme nationalist groups are empowered across Europe and allying with each other as well as competing in committing fascistic attacks’. Fortress Europe and the closed borders favor Xenophobic attitudes and discourses among the population and the far-right parties. It also encourages trafficking and smuggling, which, in turn, compels refugees and migrants to opt for dangerous routes, leading to over 11,000 dead or missing persons in the Mediterranean Sea (UNHCR, 2018). The ones that survive have to confront the anti-migration policies. Given the movement restrictions, refugees and migrants remain trapped on the islands, where practices of systemic violation of their human rights take place. Many refugees, including women and children, are stranded in overcrowded hotspots, living in tents where women do not feel safe. In 2018, the government agreed for a transfer of refugees to the mainland due to pressures excreted by human right organizations, NGOs and anti-racists organizations; however, the movement restriction within Greece remained intact (Human Rights Watch, 2019). As pointed out in the report, less than 15% of children have access to education in the islands, while only one in two children are registered in public schools in the mainland (ibid). These practices, in conjunction with long-term asylum processing and lack of access to the labor market, are only some aspects of anti-migration policies. Another aspect is the pushback policy. According to Aegean Boat Report (2021), 68 pushbacks were registered in the Aegean Sea, in August 2021 alone, ‘involving 1530 children, women and men’. This day-to day tactic aims at ‘disappearing’ the refugees (Apostolopoulos, 2021). Yet, all these EU policies and their consequences on refugees’ human rights are widely known and acknowledged. As Chris Jones pointed out: When you live alongside refugees you directly see the way which the EU has been content to let Greece get away with lawlessness and coercion against refugees in return for holding the refugees at the EU borders. After all it is the EU’s insistence on deterrence that has created the context for the Greek state’s policies and practices. (Jones, 2021) The αnti-racist movement and social work: Their affiliation and response Perhaps it appears that it is impossible to counter EU’s and US’ systemic criminal policies on the refugees. In reality, however, there are powerful sources of resistance and solidarity. This section will briefly explore the anti-racist and

Crises, Social Work and Movements 137 anti-fascist movement as well as the solidarity movement actions prior, during and after the ‘refugee crisis’ as example of revolutionary praxis. The Greek anti-racists movement that emerged 1990s increased its activity in terms of solidarity with migrants after 2000 (Teloni and Mantanika, 2015). The movement’s political actions move along two main lines: solidarity and resistance. The former refers to a bottom-up approach, providing an alternative form of selforganization and non-funding facilities. These initiatives were visible prior to 2015. On a national level, for instance, these collectives established ‘social centers’ for migrants across Greece andn offered free language courses, free legal services and information regarding their social and labor rights. Furthermore, their activity on a political level can be traced 20 years back. It has been organizing anti-racist festivals, protests and demonstrations for the migrants’ rights. Such an example was the campaign ‘No racism from the cradle’, which aimed at claiming a legal status for migrant children born in Greece. It has been running awareness campaigns, informing the communities on their anti-fascist action and the dangers of fascism (Teloni and Mantanika, 2015). Analogously, solidarity and resistance are also reflected in social work, setting the basis of affiliation between social work and social movements for a radicalized approach within the Greek context. An example of such a connection is the case of ‘Movement for the rights of migrants and refugees’ in Patras/Greece (KINISI) on two levels. First, since its establishment in 2007, it organized grassroots welfare initiatives to cover the basic needs of refugees’. Their efforts were mainly channelled towards a large number of Afghans, mostly refugees, who were residing in a camp in Patras at the time. They were provided with regular food handouts, medical and legal assistance and Greek language courses. All of which were materialized with the contribution of social workers and these practices aimed to establish solidarity actions. Under the prism of social work, this may be conceptualized as social work on a micro level; in other words, social work with individuals and groups, aiming for social support and empowerment. By the same token, KINISI’s interventions are political actions at a macro level. This second level was expressed by collective protests and demonstration, which included the refugees’ participation, aiming for political change. Further actions were taken, i.e., media interventions on local, national and international level, proposals for their claims were put forth in a municipality and district councils, cooperation with organizations both within Greece and abroad, proposal for ‘open’ accommodation facilities/structures, reporting racist and violent attacks to the police and port authorities and organizing anti-racist festivals in the city center in cooperation with thousands of refugees (Teloni, 2011a). Overall, the interplay between social work and the anti-racist movement in the case of KINISI gives prominence to specific practice and political analysis that enrich social work. In turn, social work can contribute with its expertise to community actions and movements’ development. A similar solidarity dynamic unfolded from 2015 until mid-2016, among Greeks including the inhabitants of islands, towards the refugees. Despite the population’s a number of habitants such as fishermen, who were shaving lives in

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the Aegean Sea, habitants who provided food and shelters to the refugees but also anti‐racist organizations from all over Greece, unions by health professionals etc expressed their solidarity in multiple ways. At the same time, building on previous practices, actions were taken to address the housing and education problems (Oikonomakis, 2018). A case in point is the self-organized squat for refugees based in the former City Plaza Hotel, in April, 22 of 2016, which was closed down on July 10 of 2019. City Plaza became a safe space that housed over 2500 migrants, including hundreds of children. It was organized by Solidarity movement’s members and refugees in response to the refugees’ housing problem. In essence, it was a ‘multiple-level political project, [which ranged] from the collective organization of daily life to the resistance against control and subordination of refugees’ policies’ (Lafazani, 2018, p. 897). City Plaza crystalized important practices. It offered a common space in which locals and migrants coexisted and participated in organizing the daily life: from cooking and guarding shift, to cleaning and decision-taking process regarding the functions of the house. Beyond creating a space for solidarity towards the refugees, this self-organized venture was able to intertwine and complement the social and political claims of the refugees and locals (City Plaza, 2019). Solidarity and the active involvement on a micro level constitutes both a means and an aim that empowers and mobilizes towards the macro level, which are the political and social claims. City Plaza and SCs share common features. These sorts of structures have combined micro- and macro-level practices. The very function of these spaces that serve refugees depend on the very participation of refugees regarding decision-making, daily interaction, community work and political action. In other words, the anti-racist movement has demonstrated an alternative model that may inspire the social work with refugees. Social work, social services and the refugee ‘crisis’ SWAN and the European Association of Schools of Social Work (EASSW) constitute examples of social work activation on a European level during the period of the ‘Refugee crisis’. In June 2016, they organized a pan-European day of solidarity towards refugees. The International Federation of Social Workers (IFSW) releases a series of announcements and actions carried out, i.e., the creation of an online forum for information exchange between social workers and solidarity movement members. Furthermore, IFSW calls for a nonparticipation to unjust policies that violate basic rights such as identifying minor refugees’ process. Hope University and SWAN in Calais organize similar actions, while social workers participate in protests against ‘fortress Europe’ and Frontex in various cities in England and Germany. Greek SWAN, which is directly linked with anti-racists movement, is active through releasing announcements, participating in demonstrations and solidarity actions for refugees. The Association of Greek Social Workers has also carried out interventions and participated in anti-racist protests. The department of social work of University of West Attica holds meetings and

Crises, Social Work and Movements 139 conferences, addressing refugees, while students and faculty members create solidarity groups with refugees. Further initiatives take place on a group level through unions, i.e., the Union of NGO Workers, resolutions on refugee issues and the NGO’s collective action. Following the first solidarity wave of 2015, the phenomenon of NGOization of solidarity took stage (Oikonomakis, 2018) in key areas e.g., eastern Aegean Sea islands and Eidomeni. NGOs acquired managing roles in reception services and coordination between other services, creating the so-called NGOization of migration management (Maniatis, 2018). With the state’s handover of the social management of refugees to NGO’s, the latter became a vehicle of social policy implementation. This phenomenon gradually generated a new category of migration professionals; ranging from social workers, lawyers to translators. Some of these professionals that were already sensitized citizens, involved with the solidarity movement, are now working in the NGOs as services ‘providers’ to the ‘users’, when the latter are not being treated as citizen with rights (ibid, p. 907). The NGOs for refugees are able to hire young social workers. However, these young professionals, who are on the ‘frontline’, face similar hardships as refugee. The social services had to confront serious difficulties, on a European level, that came along with the refugee ‘crisis’; from the hardships that occur from the lack of language, limited information supply and lack of refugee-specific services to unaccompanied minors and loss/mourning. All the while, the professionals on the field lack adequate training, job security and funding (Montero and Baltrucks, 2016, p. 16). It is a common state practice to use social workers as bulwark to social problems or between the state and the excluded (Ferguson, 2008; Teloni, 2011b). In Greece, social workers, like other public and private sector employees, have endured the deregulation of labour relations,1 which were implemented gradually in the 1990s, peaking during the memorandum era (2010–2017) (Kouzis, 2018). According to the recent research of 2018, social workers’ profile, who were employed either in NGOs or the Public Social Service during the refugee crisis, is mainly young women with limited professional experience.In addition, job insecurity was a dominant trait among employees, as the structures in which they were employed were mainly EU funded programmes. This is mainly due to the fact that the continuation of EU funding for a specific programme was in a constant state of precariousness (Teloni et al., 2020). The findings show that social workers, in an attempt to provide refugees with basic needs – i.e., mental healthcare, food, housing, water, clothing and security – had to conduct multiple calls or contacts within the services network for each individual case. This indicates, first, the level of complication that social workers have in their jobs for each refugee or family, and, second, the lack of infrastructure (ibid). One of the most evident observations is the impact of social welfare and migration policy on the refugees and social workers, highlighting the significance of the implementation policy of social work practice (ibid). Moreover, the findings demonstrate the dire working conditions, as the majority of the young social workers with limited experience lacked supervision and support, all the while

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facing job insecurity (ibid). In an effort to address this issue, Greek SWAN, between December 2020 until June 2021, provided free support and supervision to frontline social workers. The social workers that worked on refugee issue during the crisis in Greece did their utmost, given the circumstances. They build on social work with individuals, smaller group and community social work, providing support and information; they also had a strong bureaucratic role and only one third of the respondents perceive its role as human rights defender (Teloni et al., 2021). However, the research also revealed the interconnection between social work practitioners and the anti-racist movement – including immigrants’ organizations. Social workers are affiliated with the anti-racist movement and human rights organizations and have a strong tendency towards a more political role and social action i.e., campaigns, demonstrations and interventions in public discourse about the refugees’ rights (ibid). The findings reassert the common knowledge that social work is not homogenous. The aforementioned tendency towards a more political aspect of social work goes beyond the micro level, in an effort to claim social justice by prioritizing refugees’ rights. In other words, social work’s alliance with collectives and social movements is a necessity not only because it paves the way to exert pressure for policy/political change but also because it makes social work more efficient. The anti-racist and anti-fascist movement in Greece successfully continues to provide solidarity, act politically and exert pressure for change. Some of the outcomes are: in 2009, second-generation migrants’ legalization—a many-year struggle in which Afghan Women in Greece participated actively; in 2011, legalization of 300 migrants after hunger-strike, and, the most recent victory, on October of 2020, Golden Dawn was declared illegal and its members imprisoned.

Conclusion This chapter used the case of Greece to explore how the financial and refugee ‘crises’ are a result of specific neoliberal policies on a national, European and international level, rendering the crises endemic of capitalism. It also demonstrated how they provided an opportunity and a pretext to the system to promote neoliberal policies during the financial crisis and even more hostile policies against refugees in Greece and Europe. I presented specific examples of resistance and grassroots welfare initiatives by movements and social work, aiming towards promoting social justice. Additionally, the field-research demonstrated social work’s connection with the solidarity, anti-racist and anti-fascist movement in Greece, and, more specifically, in healthcare. The specific grassroots welfare structures that were linked to social activism had a dual role. First, they provided solidarity in practice to the deprived population, whose rights were violated during the crises. Second, they provided a political framework that enabled them to exert pressure through various forms of collective actions, i.e., campaigns, protests and mobilization.

Crises, Social Work and Movements 141 Most of these initiatives were self-organized and without formal funding. They promote alternative forms of action and mobilization in the way they operated, i.e., SCs’ holistic practice, refugees’ participation on decision-making in squats, less bureaucracy, universal services with no ‘deserving/undeserving’ procedures and so on. While these kinds of ‘social and health services’ do not belong to the official social work, I argue that in the contemporary world of neoliberal capitalist ‘hegemony’, they provide the necessary elements that will direct us towards revolutionary social work; a social work aim at changing oppressive institutional and structural arrangements of the current global neoliberalism. Furthermore, we cannot assert that collective action and the affiliation of social work with movements are the most prevalent elements in social work praxis. However, our research on social work revealed tendencies, conceptual analysis and practical application towards a more political social work. Overall, we may argue that the analysis of political collectives may substantially enhance social workers’ conceptualization of social problems by focusing on the structural causes and recognizing a comprehensive view of the communities’ problems, including social work users. The analysis of structural causes of social problems contributes to the practices, models and methods of social work. Equally important is its contribution to the interventions’ purpose and reflection in day-to-day practices. To put it differently, we need to ask ourselves as practitioners and academics whether our day-to-day practice is directed towards social justice and social change. The contemporary neoliberal realm has implications on labour rights of social workers. Social workers’ alliance with collectives and movements are particularly important and valuable, for the following reasons: a

b

c

d e

f

Critical analysis conceptualizes social problems in a broader context, enabling social workers to attain a more comprehensive understanding on the issues at hand. In turn, this approach deters social workers from the ‘victim blaming’ logic and helps them critically conceptualize the interventions. The analytical framework stimulates social workers’ interventions and critical consciousness, rendering them more powerful by connecting ‘personal’ problems with ‘political and structural’ causes. They can defend social rights more effectively and exert political pressure on local, national and international levels. Policy change and contesting unjust policies cannot be achieved by a bureaucratic and isolated social work at an office. Collective actions enable and inspire alliances joint action between social workers and their users. Social workers benefit from their active involvement in collective action through their unions, initiatives and organizations as employees, given their working conditions (curtailing of labor rights, bureaucracy and managerialism). These alliances contribute to innovative social actions. Social workers may be inspired by innovative forms of solidarity and social action in their day-

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Dimitra-Dora Teloni to-day practice. In turn, they may be utilized within social services and structures that do not support a dominant neoliberal discourse. As Nayak (2020, pp. 180–181) claims Gloria Anzaldúa reminds us that the ‘possibilities are numerous once we decide to act and not react’ (Anzaldúa, 2007, p. 101). The message is clear, i.e., that actions to end social injustice need to move beyond naval gazing reiterations of the problem. Instead, formulations of alternatives are required, which are not limited by prescribed horizons of imagination.

A question that is frequently posed is whether this affiliation is possible and, if so, how. As we explored based on the research, social work affiliation with movements becomes feasible in daily practice of social worker either through the interconnection of ‘formal/official’ social services with the movements’ structures (Teloni et al., 2021) or through the direct involvement of social workers in protests and movements (Teloni and Mantanika, 2015) or by offering social work expertise to the movements for the community actions (ibid). In an environment of neoliberal capitalism and the rise of racism and fascism, social workers need to shift from an individualistic to a collective praxis in our day-to-day practice. This is not only related to our political action or day-to-day practice with our users and community work development. It also concerns an internal process, which leads to the decision to our shift. Essentially, we need to transform our fatigue, disappointment in the bureaucratized social work and our anger towards a system that racked social workers and users into a creative anger and social action. The shift of social workers requires support and care, which can be found among collectives and movements as well as in radical and revolutionary social works’ initiatives.

Note 1 Flexible forms of employment appeared during the 1990s and 2000s (Zisimopoulos & Oikonomakis, 2018, p. 124), which increased the job insecurity (Dedousopoulos et al., 2013, pp. 18–24 in Zisimopoulos and Oikonomakis, 2018, pp. 124).

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Crises, Social Work and Movements 145 Solidarity for All (2014). ‘Building hope against fear and devastation: four years of resistance and solidarity’. Athens. Published on 20 January 2015. (in Greek) Available at: https://issuu.com/solidarityforall/docs/report_2014 Sotiris, P. (2019). Introduction. In P. Sotiris (ed.) Crisis, movement, strategy. The Greek experience. Chicago: Haymarket Books, pp. 1–12. Tarrow, S. (1998). Power in movement. Social movements and contentious politics. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press. Teloni, D. (2011a). Grassroots community social work with the ‘unwanted’: the case of Kinisi and the rights of refugees and migrants in patras, Greece. In V. Ioakimidis and M. Lavallette (eds.) Social work in extremis. Bristol: Policy Press, pp. 65–80. Teloni, D. D. (2011). ‘Contemporary social work practice in Greece: the perspectives of social workers and users in county welfare departments and municipalities (Doctoral dissertation, University of Liverpool)’, Available at: https://www.academia.edu/ 36977787/CONTEMPORARY_SOCIAL_WORK_PRACTICE_IN_GREECE_ THE_PERSPECTIVES_OF_SOCIAL_WORKERS_AND_USERS_IN_COUNTY_ WELFARE_DEPARTMENTS_AND_MUNICIPALITIES Teloni, D-D. (2017). ‘Let us try to make another social work possible …: a report on the Greek social work action network, 2008–2016’, Critical and Radical Social Work, 5(2), pp. 257–260. 10.1332/204986017X14952955720482. (Accessed: 19 October 2019). Teloni, D-D., and Mantanika, R. (2015). ‘This is a cage for migrants’: the rise of racism and the challenges for social work in the Greek context’, Critical and Radical Social Work, 3(2), pp. 189–206. 10.1332/204986015X14332581741051. (Accessed: 10 September 2021). Teloni, D-D., and Adam, S. (2018). ‘Solidarity clinics and social work in the era of crisis in Greece’, International Social Work, 61(6), pp. 794–808. 10.1177%2F002087281 6660604. (Accessed: 5 September 2021). Teloni, D. D., Dedotsi, S., and Telonis, A. G. (2020). ‘Refugee ‘crisis’ and social services in Greece: social workers’ profile and working conditions’, European Journal of Social Work, 23(6), pp. 1005–1018. 10.1080/13691457.2020.1772729. (Accessed: 2 September 2021). Teloni, D-D., Dedotsi, S., Lazanas, A., and Telonis, A. (2021). ‘Social work with refugees: examining social workers’ role and practice in times of crisis in Greece’, International Social Work. 10.1177%2F00208728211046980. (Accessed: 7 January 2022). UNHCR. (2018). ‘Operational portal, mediterranean situation’. Retrieved from https:// data2.unhcr.org/en/situations/mediterranean. Zisimopoulos, G., and Oikonomakis, G. (2018). The class dimension of the Greek debt crisis. In Sotiris, P. (ed.), Crisis, Movement, Strategy: The Greek experience. Leiden‐ Boston: Brill, pp. 67–87.

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The Transformation of a Revolution: Neoliberalisation of the Welfare State and the Need for Revolutionary Social Work in Iran Salar Kashani and Nasrin Ghavami

Introduction In early 1979, the Islamic Revolution of Iran ended the American-backed reign of Mohammad Reza Pahlavi. The Iranian Islamic movement of the late 1970s opposed imperialism and westernisation and advocated independence and social justice. In the same year that radical clergies seized the political power in Iran, Margaret Thatcher was elected as the Prime Minister of Great Britain, followed by the presidency of Ronald Reagan in the US. Both Reagan and Thatcher started to displace Keynesianism by the principles of Chicago School neoliberalism in their countries and beyond. The birth of the Islamic Republic in Iran coincided with the spread of neoliberal policies in many western countries. Iranian Islamic Revolution has been analysed and presented as an antiimperialism movement against western countries and the global (neo)liberal capitalist dominance by many scholars (Arjomand, 1984; Kamali, 1998; etc). One of those who used Iranian Revolution to show the problems of global neoliberalism is Michel Foucault. Under the commission of an Italian newspaper, Corriere Della Sera, he made two trips to Iran in late 1978 and in an article in that newspaper he called the Iranian Islamic Revolution the ‘spirit of a world without spirit’ (Cooper, 2014). As Gamez (2019, p. 96) puts it, Foucault’s journalism on the Iranian Revolution occurs in the midst of his Collége de France lectures on biopolitics and governmentality. Foucault’s enthusiasm for the Revolution might indicate, albeit very indirectly, directions for thought that might resist neoliberalism. Although very strong anti-imperialistic and anticapitalistic revolutionary slogans, which made the ground for the believe that Iranian Islamic Revolution would be a new path away from materialistic values of neoliberalism, the post-revolutionary developments showed only different paths to and through neoliberalism. Panahi’s study (2001) on the slogans of the Iranian Islamic Revolution shows that 82% of the economic slogans of the revolutionaries were dedicated to the subject of ‘supporting the deprived classes’. The leaders of the revolutionary movement repeatedly promised to change the economic structure and establish social justice in favour of the deprived people. As Foucault liked to think, the leaders of the revolution talked about an economy that rejected both capitalism DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-8

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and socialism and was supposed to change the economic structure of society based on Islamic doctrines for the welfare of the majority of people (Moradi, 2017, pp. 46–47). It seemed that a new form of politics was emerging outside the modern Western political discourse: ‘a partisan and agonistic form of truthtelling’ (Gamez, 2019, p. 96); an alternative form of governance based upon the interpretation of the scriptures (Keddie, 2003; Worth, 2018). The demand for social justice was represented in the new Iranian constitution. The new constitution that was adopted after the revolution establishes: It is a universal right to enjoy social security and have benefits with respect to retirement, unemployment, old age, workers’ compensation, lack of guardianship, and destitution. In case of accidents and emergencies, everyone has the right to health and medical treatments through insurance or other means. the government is obliged to use the proceeds from the national income and public contributions to provide the abovementioned services and financial support for each and every one of the citizens. (Constitution of the Islamic Republic of Iran, 1979, article 29) Some studies indicate that the Islamic Republic in the first decade of its rule succeeded to reduce poverty and inequality (Salehi-Isfahani, 2017). Improvements in the living standard of the majority of Iranians in the first decade after the revolution came about not due to the creation of stable employment but to the welfare and subsidy policies, which made ‘remarkable improvements in poverty alleviation and key human development indicators’ (Askari and Arfaa, 2007, p. 190). As mentioned earlier, justice and independence are the two main elements of the discourse of the Islamic Revolution (Moshirzaddeh, 2019). Notwithstanding the fact that the anti-colonial and anti-imperialist characters of the Iranian revolution have been influencing the anti-Western policies of the Islamic Republic in the international arena for 40 years (Ghahremanpour, 2011; Golmohammadi, 2019), the real history of the rule of revolutionary Islamists during the past four decades shows the step-by-step retreat from social justicebased policies (Khosravi, 2017, p. 355). The end of the Iran-Iraq war put also an end to the honeymoon between the poor and the ruling clergy (Bayat, 2000, p. 13) and became the starting point for the launch of neoliberal policies presented as necessary reforms for economic development.

Neoliberal reforms in post-revolutionary Iran Some scholars point to the neoliberal diversities and use the plural term ‘neoliberalisms’ in addressing neoliberalisation of the world (Birch and Mykhnenko, 2009) and suggest that neoliberalism has shape-shifting qualities and adapts to different national settings (Gray et al., 2015, p. 371). Neoliberalism in practice leads to marketisation and privatisation of social services, reducing the role of the state in direct welfare provision, and increasing insecurity and precariousness

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(Ferguson and Woodward, 2009). While the neoliberal state is withdrawing from its traditional responsibility for the provision of welfare, it is increasingly becoming an organisation for providing services to the market and for surveilling and controlling people (Kamali and Jonsson, 2019, p. 302). Iran’s economic and political developments over the past three decades show that neoliberalism can penetrate even the minds of so called ‘enemies of the West’. One can call the Islamic republic’s socioeconomic and political structures as a kind of Islamic modernisation presented by some scholars as part of implementation of multiple modernities in the world (Kamali, 1998; 2006; Eisenstadt, 2000). This means that the revolutionary slogan of ‘no eastern, no western, but Islamic Republic’ addressed the way clergy and their religious allies wanted to seize the political power, replace monarchy with an Islamic rule and preserve its capitalist system. Over the past three decades, and in line with other countries going through neoliberalisation, Iran has been experiencing the same developments, such as rising unemployment, particularly youth unemployment, poverty, soaring real-estate prices, privatisation and the destruction of the public sector, resulted in increasing power of the oppressive security sector (Povey, 2019). After the death of Ayatollah Khomeini and the end of the Iran-Iraq war at the end of 1980s, the social policy had dramatically changed. Hashemi Rafsanjani’s presidency (1989–97) addressed economic issues rather than ideological ones. Presenting himself as a pragmatist, he launched the ‘Reconstruction Era’ characterised by expansive privatisation, deregulation, and reduction of subsidies. Destruction of the right to collective contracts led to the loss of job security at the same time that inflation and unemployment soared. Gradually, a post-social state with more focus on the market economy than on welfare replaced the revolutionary state of the 1980s. As with neoliberal turns anywhere, increasing poverty rate was considered to be individuals’ responsibility as state support was reducing. People were expected to overcome serious social hurdles through endurance, risk-taking, hard-working, and belief in individual voluntarism and will to charity (Khosravi, 2017, p. 356; Bayat, 2000, p. 4). The welfare policies – which have shielded the majority of Iranians from economic disaster – have been the main target of economic liberalisation programmes. However, while the economic reforms have empowered powerful interest groups, they have had negative consequences for the majority of the population. Rising poverty, the decline of the living standards of people, the removal of the safety net and the housing crisis have been the result of neoliberal reforms in Iran (Povey, 2019). The Iranian Misery index (total unemployment rate and inflation) in 2019 has reached 45.4% (Statistics Center of Iran, 2021, p. 20). In March 2021, point-to-point inflation was 48.7%, and in the same period, point-to-point inflation for food and beverage groups was 67% and durable goods for 83.8% (Ibid). The national average poverty line for 2020 has increased by 38% compared to the poverty line of 2019. High inflation in the food and beverage

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sector, as well as the housing sector in 2020, which is the main expenditure of the poor household, is one of the main reasons for this increase, while the minimum wage can cover household expenditures less than in previous years. (Ministry of Social Welfare, 2021, pp. 30–32). The poverty rate in 2019 reached about 32% and 26.5 million people in Iran were below the poverty line this year. The Gini index has been increasing steadily in recent years, from 37.4% in 2013 to 42% in 2018 (World Bank, 2021). The growth of privatisation and the reduction of the role of government in social services in the field of public and higher education are also observed. While in 1990 only 0.25% of the country’s schools were non-governmental, the proportion of non-governmental schools increased to 6% in 1998 and 14% in 2019 (Ministry of Education, 2020). Although in post-revolutionary Iran, the governmental policies were aimed at the expansion of and widening access to higher education (Hamdhaidari et al., 2008), the priority of Iran’s neoliberal reforms shifted to privatisation and marketisation that had led to an increase in the number of private universities with poor qualities, the emergence of a market for helping PhD students with articles and theses and promoting the expansion of science and technology parks have brought about a profit-driven attitude toward knowledge and academic research. (Mirzamohammadi and Mohammadi, 2017, p. 480). The proportion of tuition-paying compared to state-funded students in higher education increased from 25% in 2001 to 45% in 2007, and it rose about 30% in 2016. The number of students studying in private universities rose to 79% in 2016. In addition, many state universities accept now tuition-paying students (Varij Kazemi and Safari, 2020). The coverage of governmental health support is also insufficient. In 2019, the out-ofpocket healthcare expenditure index1 (the part of health care expenditures that people themselves paid) was 39.5%. This is more than twice the global average of this index (18%) and about 11% higher than the Middle East and North Africa (28.8%) (World Bank, 2022). Despite all these economic pressures on the weakest sections of society, the government takes little responsibility for providing welfare services. In addition to the continued policy of downsizing the government (Baz Mohammadi and Cheshmi, 2007, p. 48), a small portion of the government’s welfare budget is currently allocated to vulnerable groups. While the share of the poor, homeless, unemployed and vulnerable in the country’s welfare budget in 1997 was about 32%, it dropped to 23% in 2007 and only 2.5% in 2021. (Saba Pension Strategies Institute, 2021, p. 7). The spread of poverty and the reduction of public social support have led to an increase in social problems. According to official data published by the Statistics Center of Iran (2021) suicide, murder, fraud and thief rates have risen between 2009 and 2019. The number of theft cases has increased by almost 100% during this period. In addition to the large number of unemployed people who are frustrated with finding a job, dissatisfaction among workers has increased due to unpaid wages and temporary jobs. (Morgana, 2020). The urban poor manifested their discontent with social inequality in the suburbs of big cities. Many protests

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were triggered by discontent over persistent unemployment and inflation, long overdue wages and pensions, the reduction of cash subsidies and environmental degradation. At their core, these protests are a moral outcry of the marginalised periphery against the centre and its betrayal of the social justice vision that animated and united the revolutionary forces of 1979 (Ehsani and Keshavarzian, 2018). The turn of the Iranian ruling class towards neoliberal reforms was in line with their interests. With the end of the Iran-Iraq war, when newly ideologically economic elites had been created in the first revolutionary decade, it was the right time for the now well-established regime to reinvigorate capital accumulation with the help of the newly established economic elite highly connected to the political power centres (Maljoo, 2017, p. 60). Sanctions against Iran have expanded poverty and as Povey (2019) and Habibi (2014) argue, sanctions and neoliberal reform have worked hand in hand. The sanctions regime also gave the government an excuse to implement unpopular economic reforms such as the removal of price subsidies in 2010, and which the International Monetary Fund (IMF) praised as going further than any other oil-exporting country would have dared. In addition, some political and military organisations like the IRGC (Revolutionary Guard) have benefitted from the dual processes of sanctions and neoliberal reforms. As foreign investment was not possible under the sanctions regime, it was the IRGC that gained significant economic assets through stepping in as a ‘substitute contractor’ and buying industries that were sold off by the state or went bankrupt as a result of the sanctions regime. The de-responsibility of the government in providing welfare services to poor people led some social activists and non-governmental organisations (NGOs) to provide wider social services to the most destitute in society. More than half of NGOs registered with the Ministry of Interior of Iran in 2020 were working in the fields of social welfare and charity. Bayat (2000) emphasises that this process has been going on throughout the Middle East since the implementation of neoliberal reforms. He points to the significant increase in the number of NGOs in the region since the 1990s. The reasons for this increase in his view were a need in the region’s countries to fill the gap left by the states’ inability and unwillingness to face the challenge following the implementation of neoliberal policies, such as increasing inequalities and heavy pressure on urban social services. This transformation has highly influenced both the governmental and non-governmental social work and social workers.

Main objective and research questions The main aim of this chapter is to explore the changing role of social workers in a post-revolutionary Iran where the revolutionary ideas of equality and solidarity have replaced by socioeconomic principles of neoliberalism. The main research questions are ‘How social workers evaluate their role in providing services to those in need of social work interventions?’, ‘How social workers assess their

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engagement in and the role of NGOs in providing services to those in need of social work interventions?’, and ‘How can social work play a role in challenging the neoliberal state and mobilising for structural changes?’. The findings of this study are presented in three parts: the experiences of social workers in the public sector, their experiences in NGOs and finally the views of social workers on the change-oriented role of social work in the current neoliberal socio-economic and political arrangements.

The neoliberal state and governmental social work According to the majority of interviewees, the ‘inefficiency’ of government and its ‘lack of planning’ in the field of social welfare, ‘conflict and inconsistency’ between governmental organisations, ‘dominance of market-oriented approaches’ among the ruling class, and finally widespread ‘irresponsibility’ of the government in the field of social welfare are the most important factors which have challenged governmental social work practises in Iran. Although various welfare organisations have been established in the first decade after the revolution to support the poor classes, neoliberalisation has marginalised the role of such organisations in reducing poverty and inequality. In addition to neoliberal policies, Western countries’ economic sanctions over the past decade have also led to the decline in government revenues which has made it difficult for the government to provide resources for welfare services. However, most social workers believe that the inefficiency of the bureaucratic structure of government is more important than the lack of funding. Mehdi, a social worker who has experience working with people harmed by natural crises, says: In practise, and especially in crises, the inefficiency of the government in providing social services is obvious. For example, in the post-flood crises in Gilan [Northern province of Iran], where all governmental and nongovernmental organisations were active, the performance of NGOs was more effective than that of governmental organisations, despite having fewer resources. According to the social workers interviewed in this study, the government does not have a clear, coordinated and systematic programme for social welfare. The lack of a systematic plan is not limited to a specific cabinet, and the entire political system seems to be in confusion in this field. Social workers have frequently experienced such disorders. As Shadi, a social worker who works among the poor communities in marginalised areas of Tehran, says: The problem is that the government has no plans or agenda for poverty alleviation. And nothing will be changed until such a plan is in place. There should be a programme for the reduction of economic gaps between classes and all governmental organisations should stick to it.

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There is uncertainty and ambiguity in various areas related to Iranian welfare state. The lack of government’s responsibility for the welfare of people not only influences Iranian citizens but also refugees living in the country. A clear example of this situation is the government’s policies towards Afghan refugees and their children. Social workers point to, for example, the large number of Afghan refugees in Iran who have no legal rights and entitlements. Even non-implementation of existing laws aim at social protection of the most needly adds to the problem. For example, although the laws prohibiting child labour have been passed in Iran aiming at reducing child labour, the number of children forced to work is increasing and the government is not taking any effective action to enforce this law. Some of the government’s social welfare policies have turned to become just unrealistic and empty goals. The government still sets goals and allocates funding to achieve certain social issues, but the mechanisms for achieving these goals are not clear. A ‘one-dimensional view’ about social problems among policymakers also prevents any significant change in the way the government handle the issues of social welfare. Hassan, who works in the field of child labour, says: ‘Government’s policies are not realistic. For example, the recent 5-years programme predicted a 25% reduction in child labour. But it is not clear how this goal should be achieved’. The one-dimensional view of government organisations on the issue of poverty and inequality has led to the adoption of cross-cutting policies in the field of social welfare. In some cases, the government acts as a charity organisation. Sepideh, who works in the field of Child waste pickers, says: Poverty alleviation in government policy is limited to subsidies or support packages. You cannot alleviate poverty with support packages and subsidies. To alleviate poverty, the mechanism for creating opportunities in society must change. The experience of social workers shows that many actions of government organisations in the field of social welfare are not based on a systematic view and are largely depending on the individual concerns or political motives (to gain popularity and votes). Sarah, who works to educate the children of poor families, says: Because all decisions are up to the individual, with the change of each leading person, the whole system of executive decisions changes and the new [responsible] person does not fulfil the decisions and obligations of the previous person and says that it has nothing to do with me. As we said before, governmental organisations that were established in the first decade after the revolution to provide welfare services in Iran continue to operate but they lack efficiency and political support. The lack of substantial planning and confusion in the goals of welfare policies have led these

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organisations to operate with different and inconsistent approaches and in some cases their activities conflict with each other. Social workers see many cases of parallelism and conflict in the activities of various institutions, such as the Ministry of Welfare (and its affiliated organisations), municipalities, Foundation of the Oppressed (Bonyad-e Mostazafan), Imam Khomeini Relief Foundation, the Ministry of Sports and Youth, and the Revolutionary Guards. In addition, many social workers have witnessed a drastic change in the ruling class’s approaches to social justice and their increasing tendency to marketisation in recent decades, which, in turn, has had a significant impact on reducing social protection. Vahid, a sociologist who has a long experience in the field of poverty and social problems in Iran, says: In the post-revolutionary constitution, a model of the welfare system was specified. The establishment of institutions such as the Relief Committee, the Housing Foundation, the Foundation of the Oppressed, etc. were all legally based on these constitutional principles. During the war, despite the restrictions, the issue of public welfare was one of the government’s agendas, and the government tried to stay true to its responsibilities in this area. After the war, the government moved away from these policies. Findings from interviews with social workers show that almost all of them have had similar experiences of the government’s retreat from its social responsibilities in various areas. For example, privatisation of schools and the government’s reluctance to support poor families have during corona pandemic reduced millions of children’s possibility of learning due to poor families’ lack of digital and online facilities. The neoliberal policies by which social problems are considered and presented as individual problems and the result of individuals’ own choices (Kamali and Jonsson, 2018) are encompassing all areas of Iranian society of today in general and in the realm of social policy, in particular. Marketisation is (re)forming the society and government’s responsibility for traditional social policy measures, such as childcare, housing and employment, have been left to market and charity organisations. De-responsibility of the government in the field of social protection has always been associated with two keywords ‘government downsizing’ and ‘outsourcing’. The experience of social workers interviewed in this study shows that the government, under the pretext of downsizing its bureaucracy, has outsourced the provision of social services to NGOs in many areas. This type of privatisation is even applied to the care of orphans since the government outsources the care of some children to NGOs through contracts. Government discouragement has been accompanied by a reduction in government spending on social support, as well as an increase in theatrical actions in this area. Shiva, a social worker active in the field of working children, says: Instead of spending a lot of money [directly by the government] to solve the problems of working children, the government concludes lower-cost

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Salar Kashani and Nasrin Ghavami contracts with several NGOs to support working children. At the same time, there is a lot of propaganda about the work of these NGOs. As a result, the scope of social support is limited to a few hundred children instead of thousands of children, and at the same time, with the help of extensive propaganda, the government claims that it has fulfilled its responsibilities in this field.

In line with the neoliberal ideology and policies, the government are demanding that civil society should make social problems disappeared. Faramarz who has established a couple of NGOs to protect needy children contends: A couple of years ago, there was a discussion about organising working with street children in Tehran. Government officials questioned the NGOs, saying why you did not act in such a way that there were no street-working children. It is as if NGOs have the power to eradicate child labour. Government irresponsibility in the field of social welfare not only causes the government to spend less on providing social services but also some social workers believe that it is profitable for governmental organisations and their partners to outsource their social duties. For example, social workers Sara and Sepideh, explain that the government’s irresponsibility in child labour has allowed Tehran municipal contractors to exploit child labour in waste recycling at a very low cost.

Growing social problems and non-governmental social work The inefficiency of the government in the field of social welfare and the political dominance of the market-oriented approach have reduced the ability of government in the fiels of social assistance and social work in a time of growing social problems caused by poverty and inequality. As mentioned earlier, there is ample evidence that the government is trying to evade its social responsibilities and hand them over to civil society institutions. Currently, a significant part of social work in Iran is conducted by NGOs, but the effectiveness of social work through NGOs has many shortcomings. Social workers participating in this study have identified several factors in the failure of NGOs to provide desirable social services: the position of NGOs as government contractors, their inability to participate in policymaking in the field of social welfare, their full involvement with micro-level issues, the government’s political misuse of NGOs, the lack of resources and the undemocratic and inefficient management of these institutions. The transformation of NGOs into government contractors in the field of social services has had a wide range of negative consequences for NGOs. The dependence of NGOs on government budgets, as well as their urgent need for government licences, has prevented many of them from taking a critical stance on government welfare policies. Social worker Shiva argues: ‘By turning NGOs

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into government contractors, they cannot freely and critically perform in the field of social welfare because they themselves have become tools for implementing government policies’. Placing NGOs in the position of government contractors causes them to become overly involved in individual social work, which prevents NGOs from paying attention to and playing a role in structural macro-level social work and influencing welfare policies. Akram, who leads an NGO working with needy women, clarifies this: All our activities are limited to the micro-level. We cannot affect more than a few people or ultimately a specific geographical area. We cannot bring about general change. I keep thinking to myself that my ability as a social worker in an NGO is very limited, and I ask myself how this limited activity will help solve society’s problems when poverty and inequality increase rapidly and on a large scale. The inability of NGOs to develop their activities beyond the level of individual or case-work social work is an issue that many social workers participating in this study have considered as one of the shortcomings of social work within the boundaries of NGOs. They believe that the current situation of NGOs does not allow them to be engaged in promoting social welfare and reducing the social problems of those in need of social work intervention. Social worker, Hassan, explains the contradiction of social workers day-to-day activities and the reality of structural and intuitional mechanism: ‘We currently support 200 working children, but on the other hand, poverty, inflation, and unemployment expose hundreds of other children to forced labour every month due to incorrect social policies’. The limited financial and human resources of NGOs and the existence of a large number of people in need of social workers’ intervention – as a result of increasing poverty and inequality – make social workers aware of the fact that the government must take its responsibility for providing welfare services. The following is an illustration provided by a social worker, Nima, who work in the field of working children: In the field of child-care that I work in, most NGOs are doing their best, but their resources are limited. When the economic pressure increases, when the government withdraws from its duties, when the number of families in need of assistance increases day after day, how much power and capacity do NGOs have to be able to cope with the problems of this large population? It is therefore unrealistic to expect the activities of NGOs to replace government services. Another problem which limits NGOs’ efficiency is their poor management and, in some cases, the lack of trained and professional social workers. The limited duration of the engagement of social workers who voluntarily work in NGOs is limited and because of this, many NGOs face the problem of the lack of skilled

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and stable staff. On the other hand, the experience of many social workers from working in NGOs shows that some of these organisations have serious management problems, including authoritarian leadership and organisation. In general, the activities of social workers engaged in NGOs are limited to a micro, local, and individual levels and cannot compensate for the vacancy of the government in the organisation and provision of welfare at macro level. Many social workers involved in this research believe that in order to improve people’s living conditions, other alternatives should be sought.

Revolutionary social work and mobilisation of the marginalised According to most of the social workers participating in this research, social work in the existing forms will not have a significant impact on improving the social welfare of those in need of social work intervention. According to them, the basic solution to change the status quo is to go beyond the existing forms of individual interventions and social assistance to the neediest. They believe that changing the discourse, trying to defend society, engaging in mobilising public opinion, reinforcing civil society solidarity, empowering and mobilising marginalised groups are the most important tasks of social workers in Iran. Moving towards structural changes requires a change in the discourses by which the organisation of social welfare, as well as the role and responsibilities of government, civil society, and social workers, is evaluated and defined. Changing established discourses and developing critical thinking are essential in challenging neoliberal hegemony in the field of social welfare and beyond. This needs the vital engagement of researchers, educators, and practitioners of social work as well as other intellectuals and civil society organisations and activists in political debates and movements. Challenging neoliberalism and its market hegemony requires the efforts of all segments of society in general and of social workers in particular, since social work is a profession of human rights and social justice and social workers are working with the devastating consequences of neoliberalism and market fundamentalism (Kamali and Jonsson, 2018). Radical discursive changes are necessary and as social worker Faramarz argues: An ideological revision or a change in social discourse must take place. Civic institutions and knowledge-producing institutions must work to build an alternative discourse in order to shift current approaches and reinforce the believe in the necessity of a universal social welfare. Anti-austerity measures and defending society against market pressures and the neoliberal government are believed to be the most important tasks of social workers committed to change the current status quo in Iran. Social worker Vahid explains: People are now completely helpless against market violence. People’s problems and difficulties are increasing day by day, but they do not know

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what to do to solve their problems or whom to seek help from. It is the duty of civil society as well as social workers in this situation to stand up and defend society against market violence and irresponsibility of the government. One of the main themes emphasised by the interviewees is the need to put pressure on the government from below in order to force it to undertake its social responsibilities again. To achieve this goal, different sections of society need to demand their rights, and social workers should play a key role in this regard. Interviewees believe that since the experience of trying to reform the neoliberal government has not had a significant effect on changing the welfare policy approach, social workers should increase social pressure on the government by mobilising disadvantaged groups. Social worker Akram says: The most important task of social workers and civic institutions is to organise social pressure, intending to force the government to act responsibly. The fact is that according to the existing constitution, the political system is obliged to create a society in which poverty and inequality, disease, violence, and discrimination are decreasing, while the trends are the opposite. People should demand these rights from the government. According to the interviewees, the main task of an effective social work is to try to change the existing structural conditions which generate institutional inequalities and social problems. According to social workers, ‘civil society solidarity’ is necessary to achieve this goal. Disunity among different groups in civil society is one of the existing barriers that social workers should try to overcome. Ali, a social worker who works with the homeless in Tehran, says: NGOs need to unite to gain more power to resist the government. This alliance will enable us to stand more vigorously against policies and legislation that are contrary to social welfare and force the government to change its approach. ‘Awareness-raising’, i.e., ‘empowerment of and cooperation with the deprived’, and ‘participation in public debate’ are the main topics that the interviewees consider necessary to increase pressure on the government. A problem of the neoliberal government is that it is both weak and strong at the same time: it is weak in providing welfare to the people and strong in the field of policing and security (Kamali and Jonsson, 2018). This means that the major task of the neoliberal state is to provide security to the market and considers any attempt to criticise and counteract neoliberal ideology and policies as a security problem. However, all interviewees who believe in the mobilisation of the marginalised and poor in order to constitute pressure from bellow, see socio-political repression as a major obstacle to achieving this goal. The government determines the scope and rules of the activities of social workers – both in the public sector

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and in NGOs – and prevents the formation of any action outside this predetermined agenda. Nima illustrates this as following: Iran’s political system controls the activities of social workers. If, for example, NGOs want to carry out activities outside the limits set by the government, their licences will be revoked and they will be closed down. The government likes to limit these activities to the provision of individual social services and strongly opposes any move beyond this range. Social workers are aware of the potential dangers of working in the field of social mobilisation and try to keep their activities within the allowed range in order to be able to continue providing existing social services. In other words, many of them limit their activities because of fear of repression, despite believing that existing forms of social work will not have a significant impact on the structure of poverty and inequalities in society. Social workers speak about the ‘fear of going into trouble’. As social worker, Faramarz, puts it: ‘There is always a fear among social activists and social workers that they will get into trouble if they do something against the will of the government. An NGO’s attempt at social mobilisation could lead to its closure’. This means that the government has succeeded to create a ‘rationality of fear’ (De Figueiredo and Weingast, 1999, pp. 261–302) among social workers, which makes many to comply to the governmental securitisation policies in order to preserve the minimum possibilities of helping those in need of social work intervention. They believe that if their activities are stopped, poor groups will lose even the minimum social services that they currently receive. That is why many social workers decide to not be engaged in social mobilisation of the poor. Social worker Hassan puts it in this way: ‘The closure of NGOs does the most damage to communities that have benefited from its services. So, social workers in such a situation prefer not to engage in activities such as social mobilisation’. This makes the alliances of different segments and groups of civil society – not only social workers – necessary to fight the neoliberal state and policies. Achieving this solidarity requires raising awareness among different groups about the structural roots of poverty and social problems. Since the (once revolutionary) constitution obliges the government to provide social welfare to the people, it is necessary for social workers to use this legal frame to address people’s rights and entitlements as well as the responsibility of the government towards people’s welfare. This is an important task for revolutionary social workers since as Rosa Luxemburg (1970) argued revolutionaries should be the best fighters for reforms. However, this is not an easy task since the government is not an accountable government and has shown several times that it can violate people’s rights if they are considered incompatible with the neoliberal government’s ideology and policies. This can be counteracted by popular mobilisation of marginalised people in their action for social justice. Social worker, Sepideh, means: ‘Social workers need to help poor groups become empowered enough to make their

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demands. If they become aware of their rights, they can put pressure on the government to meet their demands’. Besides, attracting public support from other social groups is also essential to achieving this goal. The government must be under pressure from public opinion to take responsibility for social welfare. As social worker Shadi argues: The community-oriented activities of social workers can be effective if they are supported by the public will and demand. Social workers should try to make the demand for social welfare from the government, a public demand. to achieve this goal, the structural roots of poverty and inequality must be explained to the people. Although social workers participated in this study believe in the necessity of a more radical social work, they are also aware of the threats of the neoliberal government to their activities. This is because any action beyond the government-decided spheres of social work can be considered to be a political action for the overthrew of the government and the political elite. This makes revolutionary social work a risky, challenging and ultimately political actions aim at structural transformations.

Conclusion The Islamic Revolution of Iran overthrew the ancient regime of Shah in early 1979 with slogans and promises of social justice, freedom and prosperity. The revolutionary discourse of social justice that the revolutionaries promised, stemmed from a combination of leftist, anti-imperialist and Islamist ideology in a time when any anti-West movement was considered to be emancipatory and contributing to the prosperity of people. The religious roots of Social Justice in the Iranian Revolution convinced many observers that a new political discourse outside the framework of Western modernity discourses was being born in Iran. But the experience of four decades of Islamist rule has shown that Iran is not an isolated part of the global capitalist system. It was only after a decade of revolution that the Iranian rulers gradually began to implement neoliberal economic reform policies dominating in the countries considered to be the enemies of the revolution, i.e, Western countries. While the revolutionary slogan of ‘down with the West’ as a sign of enmity to the Western countries in general and to the USA in particular is still used as a legitimising discourse of power by the political ruling class, the US-invented neoliberal capitalist system and ideology is adopted and established by the government. Social justice reforms introduced in the immediate years following the victory of the revolution have gradually lost their political priority since late 1980s and is now replaced by neoliberal policies. More than four decades after the victory of the Islamic Revolution, the process of privatisation and marketisation is being seriously pursued in many areas, such as housing, health care and education. This has reinforced the

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government’s retreat from its ‘revolutionary undertakings’ and its irresponsibility in the field of social welfare. Privatisation in Iran has largely involved the transfer of public property to groups affiliated with the political power. This form of privatisation has led to the formation of a wealthy minority while impoverishing the general public. The close relation between the wealthy upperclass minority and the political power has also removed any legal or political barriers to their ambitious demands and makes them unaccountable to the public. The high level of an almost legalised corruption is adding to the problems created by the uncontrolled neoliberal market which in cooperation with the political elite is deterioration of the living conditions of people. The growing population in need of social protection, along with the decline of governmental social services, has made the need for social work services more urgent than ever. However, social workers face many difficulties in meeting growing needs of the population and feel themselves controlled and forced by the government into an ‘acceptable’ kind of social case work. Any deviant from the governmental neoliberal social work policies is considered anti-regime and can be subjected to negative political sanctions. As part of the neoliberal policies, the neoliberal political system presents NGOs as an accurate replacement for the government in providing social welfare to citizens (Andersen, 2018). In such a situation, neither the government nor the NGOs can be accountable for the lack of effective policies and actions for promoting social justice. That is why social work must move beyond the alliance between neoliberal governments and NGOs and take serious actions together with those in need of social work interventions against neoliberal policies. Due to the current situation and the crisis of social work education and practices, a revolutionary social work is urgently needed. The following is an illustration of this claim (Table 8.1). Social work activities carried out both by governmental organisations and NGOs are mainly market-oriented, limited to case-work tradition and ineffective. These deficiencies indicate the necessity of transforming the existing Table 8.1 The need for a revolutionary social work Governmental social work

Social work through NGOs

Revolutionary social work

• Government inefficiency • Lack of planning • Inconsistency of government organisations • Market-oriented approach of the government • De-responsibility of the government

• Lack of sufficient resources • Limited scope of inclusion • Dealing with micro-level issues • Lack of NGO participation in policy making • Placing NGOs in a position of government contractor

• Discourse change • Social mobilisation to put pressure on the government • Awareness-raising • Attracting public support • Civil society solidarity • Focus on community social work • Counteracting political suppression

Source: Author’s own.

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forms of social work into a revolutionary social work. This requires a change in the established neoliberal discourses, social mobilisation of the poor and marginalised, awareness-raising, attracting public support and promoting solidarity between social workers and other civil society organisations. Although repression and the security pressures that the government imposes on social workers, the frames of the revolutionary constitution of early 1980, which urges the government to provide universal welfare to the people, create opportunities for social workers to be engaged in revolutionary social work. This is taking place in many unrests and professional and popular movements and protests in Iran today. Since the government cannot reject the demands for social justice inscribed in the constitution, such movements are always attacked by the pretext of being aggressive and foreign/enemy supported. Iranian social workers’ struggle for social justice and against the neoliberal order cannot be separated from the global anti-neoliberal and anti-capitalist movements for social justice. This means that the revolutionary social work in Iran is also an inseparable part of the global movement for promoting social justice in which social work should play a central role.

Note 1 Out of pocket expenditure is any direct outlay by households, including gratuities and in-kind payments, to health practitioners and suppliers of pharmaceuticals, therapeutic appliances and other goods and services whose primary intent is to contribute to the restoration or enhancement of the health status of individuals or population groups. It is a part of private health expenditure.

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Revolutionary Health: Radical Mental Health Social Work in the United States and the Liberation Health Model of Social Work Practice Dawn Belkin Martinez

Introduction Social work in the United States: Our current context Over the past 40 years, the rise to dominance of neoliberalism has facilitated a profound transformation of the social, political, and economic conditions in our long-standing racial capitalist society. Neoliberalism’s market-oriented reform policies have promoted globalization, deregulated capital markets, reduced state influence in the economy – especially through privatization and austerity – and fostered extreme and increasing income inequality and a growing gap between the haves and have-nots. The impact of neoliberalism on our health care system has been profoundly negative, promoting free market values and practices rather than the right to health (Belkin Martinez, 2014a, 2014b). The Covid-19 pandemic has unmasked the full extent of these pre-existing inequalities and exacerbated the physical and behavioural health crisis Americans, particularly Black and Brown Americans, are experiencing. As social workers provide over 60 per cent of the mental health services in the United States (Boston Globe, 2021), they are on the front lines in addressing this crisis. The following brief review of our current cruel realities presents a devastating picture of what they are facing. Income inequality and poverty Currently, the richest 1 per cent of the U.S. population hold over 32 per cent of all national wealth, up from 23 per cent since 1989. The bottom 50 per cent of the population holds just 2 per cent of all wealth (Washington Post, 2021). Even before the global pandemic hit the United States, 20 per cent of all households did not have four hundred dollars in the bank for an unexpected emergency (Federal Reserve, 2020). A 2021 Bankrate survey found that 50 per cent of all American households did not have more than three months’ worth of expenses saved in case of an emergency (Ostrowski, 2021). A typical white family has over eight times the wealth as a typical Black family (Federal Reserve DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-9

Revolutionary Health 165 Survey, 2020). Finally, wealth inequality correlates with health inequality: states with the highest income inequality have experienced higher numbers of covid deaths (UCLA Health, 2020). Housing It is estimated that on any given evening, there are at least over half a million people in the United States who are currently without homes. This data does not include the over six million people who are ‘doubled up’ or staying with friends/families because they don’t have homes. There is presently no state or city in the country where a full-time minimum wage worker working forty hours a week can afford a two-bedroom rental (National Low Income Housing Coalition, 2021). In one study, nearly half of all Black and 40 per cent of all Latinos surveyed indicated that their housing costs were so high that they could not pay their monthly bills (Hugo Lopez et al., 2020). Meanwhile, in most metropolitan cities, there are tens of thousands of housing units sitting empty: a surplus of luxury homes existing alongside tens of thousands of desperately poor families without roofs over their heads (Ferrer et al., 2020). Healthcare Social Work in the United States is conducted under the oppressive system of racial capitalism, which has a long history of settler colonialism, the genocidal destruction of its indigenous people, the theft of their land, chattel slavery, and imperialism. Racial capitalism has infected every system with which social worker interface, the resulting crisis in healthcare is a horrific one. The United States shares with South Africa the distinction of being the only industrialized nations without universal health insurance and it is estimated nearly forty-five thousand deaths occur annually, due to the lack of healthcare access (Meissner et al., 2013). Black and Latino Americans are two to three times more likely to die from Covid-19 than white Americans and experience significant healthcare access obstacles and adverse treatment outcomes. (Covid-19 Tracker, 2020). Native Americans have the highest rate of young adult suicide of any ethnicity (Curtin and Hedeggard, 2017). Social work and mental health services The mainstream media has been sounding the alarm about the current ‘mental health crisis’ Americans are experiencing (New York Times, 2021). Given that social workers provide the majority of behavioural health services in the United States, we witness, on a daily basis, the adverse impact of the racial capitalist system that both profoundly affects the individuals and families we work with and simultaneously limits our ability to effectively support our communities. We are frequently unprepared to understand let alone confront this reality because we trained in institutions – colleges and universities – which are themselves

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component elements of the racial capitalist order and which consequently reproduce its ideology in their social work teaching. Nonetheless, social workers, if they transform their consciousness and their practice, can play a critical role in confronting the devasting outcomes of racial capitalism and helping to dismantle these systems. First, by working with individuals and families to grasp the multiple ways racial capitalism’s systems and practices are implicated in the problems that bring these individuals to the social worker. Second by working with individuals, families, and communities to encourage and support them in actively participating in social work practices, groups, and social movements that challenge racial capitalism’s adverse impact on their lives and the lives of other oppressed and exploited people. Or, as Paulo Freire might say, transforming object like experiences into a subject experience (Freire, 1973). Revolutionary mental health practice: The liberation health framework for social work Neoliberalism and the specific US system of private, corporate insurancedominated health care delivery are, in theory and practice, fundamental antithetical to social work’s ethical foundations. They promote a model of social work which, by privileging individualism, personal ‘self-reliance’ and adaptation to the status quo, has a corrosive impact both on social worker and on the individuals and families with which we work. While the field of anti-oppressive social work practice has exploded in the past ten years, with growing awareness of the intersections of race, class, gender, environmental injustice and advances in social justice focused social work, many of these efforts have only recently begun to develop the necessary tools for practical mental health assessments and interventions. There is an urgent need to seize the moment provided by the current crisis to take anti-oppressive social work practice to the next level: to further develop and implement a comprehensive, theoretical and practical model of genuinely liberatory social work. (Belkin Martinez, 2014a, 2014b). In Boston Massachusetts, social workers, working collaboratively with individuals and families, have begun to develop a clinical model which we call Liberation Health that is counter-hegemonic to the theories and practices of neoliberalism and racial capitalism and the social work theories and practices that accommodate to it. The model draws on and synthesizes critical elements from a number of sources: the writings of Paulo Freire, Antonio Gramsci, Ignacio Martin-Baro, Black feminist intersectional theory, radical psychology, and the historical activism of the rank-and-file social work movements in the United States and other countries. The Liberation Health model of mental health practice is both a product of our current social, economic, and political crisis and a response to it. The Liberation Health model’s techniques, including its method of problem posing, problem analysis, and action planning, provide social worker and service users with practical tools to deconstruct the dominant worldview messages

Revolutionary Health 167 influencing their lives and take action to liberate themselves from both internal and external oppressions. To put it another way, the Liberation Health model builds on longstanding social work theory, a theory of human behaviour that insists that the problems of individuals and families cannot be understood in isolation from the economic, political, cultural, and historical conditions which give rise to them. But it follows up on this recognition with specific methods of practice that help individuals, families, and communities both better understand the personal, cultural/ideological, and institutional factors that contribute to their problems and act to change them. (Belkin Martinez 2014a, 2014b). Our Boston Liberation Health group is now almost twenty years old and has over two thousand four hundred members worldwide. Our mission is to build, disseminate, advocate for, and practice Liberation Health theory via bidirectional clinical practice, direct action, and community building. This involves: (1) providing support and solidarity to anyone working to bring social justice techniques into their social work practice; (2) acting politically in the communities in which we live/work and standing in solidarity with other organizations working for social justice locally, nationally, and internationally; and (3) disseminating and educating educators, healthcare providers, and service users in the theory and methodology of the Liberation Health framework. Key concepts of the liberation health framework The following is a schematic overview of some of the key concepts on which the Liberation Health framework is based and how they are deployed in the Liberation Health model of clinical practice. Ideology/Worldview A core concept for understanding and executing a Liberation Health assessment and intervention is concept of ideology or worldview. The ideologies or worldviews in any particular society are the aggregate of theories, beliefs, norms, value systems, core themes, narratives, popular wisdom and traditions that people draw upon to help them make sense of the world around them and their relationships with it (Hinson, 2016). Ideologies exist in a variety of more or less systematized and articulated forms. Most dominant ideologies developed elaborate theoretical, philosophical or theological systems with rituals, narratives and written texts (e.g. the Bible and the Koran) to explain, proselytize and teach. But dominant and alternative ideologies also exist, in whole or in part, in much less theorized ways through folklore, tradition, and common-sense discourses. For example, for many conservatives, common sense tells them that small-town America, not the corrupt, crime-ridden big cities, is the ‘real America’. For many radicals, their alternative common sense tells them that there are two systems of justice in this country: one for the rich and one for the poor.

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Ideologies/worldviews are a necessary element of all human social organizations binding individuals, groups, and societies together (Saba, n.d.). They operate at the macro level, helping us understand and make sense of the natural and human-made worlds – past, present, and future. They provide shared understandings about how people should relate to these worlds and to one another. But they also operate at the micro level, helping individuals to understand themselves, fashion their own identities, and make sense of their individual lives. Ideologies influence how individuals judge their own behaviour, the choices they make, and that of others (Belkin Martinez et al., 2021). How ideology is acquired We are not born with ideologies already in our heads; they have to be learned. This occurs through our participation in signifying (meaning-making) practices. These practices involve a combination of words, affects and actions through which people, engage with, learn and internalize ideology (Mouffe, 2018). For example, when a mother teaches a child not to talk to strangers, they are participating in a signifying practice. Through our involvement in signifying practices, we acquire ideology, make meaning, and adopt values, beliefs and our sense of self. In the process, we also make certain assumptions and reach conclusions about many things, including human nature, identity, gender, race, class, and sexuality (Hinson, 2016). Society generates a host of social structures and institutions to facilitate and regulate these signifying practices. They include school systems and universities, religion and churches, elections and political parties, labour unions and community groups, mass and social media, but also less formal institutions like street gangs and Friday ‘happy hours’. It is generally the case that the dominant social structures and institutions in any society favour signifying practices and ideological messages that reflect the interests of the dominant class in society. In other words, knowledge is not neutral, it is the product of specific historical moments that reflect the ideas and beliefs of definite social groups (Saba, n.d.). This process for ensuring the continued supremacy of dominant ideologies is known as hegemony. Hegemony refers to the voluntary acceptance of and allegiance to dominant ideologies and social relations on the part of different social groups even if it means their subordination and marginalization (Saba, n.d.). Hegemony allows the dominant ideologies to present social conventions and social stratification as ‘the natural order of things’. It defines what values and priorities are relevant to society, discourages alternative worldviews, and establishes social routines and norms of behaviour that people accept and believe they are obligated to follow (Saba, n.d.). In the United States today, for example, dominant ideologies stressing individualism, personal freedom, and hostility to government have convinced large sections of the population to blame themselves and other oppressed populations for problems created by oppressive systems. Common dominant ideological or worldview messages that facilitate self-blame or justification for oppressive behaviour include ‘boys will be

Revolutionary Health 169 boys’, ‘if you work hard you will get ahead’, ‘you can’t fight city hall’, or ‘America is the land of opportunity’. Oppression, objects, and subjects The revolutionary educator Paulo Freire wrote extensively about how oppression impacts an individual’s self-concept and self-efficacy (Freire, 1970, 1973). According to Freire, the level and intensity of oppression people endure is directly related to their experience of being an ‘object or a subject’ (Freire, 1970, 1973). High levels of oppression are likely to facilitate an object like experiences of life and the feeling of being acted upon by others. The less control that individuals have, or believe they have, over their lives, the less confidence they experience in their ability to change their life or external circumstances. It’s as if the world acts upon them in contrast to being an active actor in the world. Freire distinguished the object like experience from the subject like experience. He conceptualized subjects as individuals who believe they can act upon the world; they generally have high levels of self-efficacy, causal importance, and positive self-concept. Subjects not only have critical skills for taking action and influencing the institutions that exercised control over their lives, but they also have significant resources and seek out opportunities to exercise these skills. For Freire and his colleagues, the level of oppression an individual is exposed to, the kind of knowledge people receive, and ways they are taught this knowledge are a major influence on their lived experience and self-perception as either an object or a subject (Freire, 1996, 1998). The Liberation Health model for mental health practice utilizes Freire’s ‘object/subject’ framework through our analysis of the impact of oppression and dominant ideologies. Personal or individual problems, and the ways we think about how we manage them, are directly related to the cultural messages and worldviews to which we are exposed and the institutions with which we interact. The more oppression one has experienced, the greater the chance one will have undergone more ‘object’ like experiences in the world (Belkin Martinez, 2014a, 2014b). Liberation Health works with people to change, not just their external world, but their internal world as well. Liberation Health practice embodies the aim of the great Brazilian theatre activist, Augusto Boal: it’s about challenging the ‘cop in your head’ as well as the cop in the street (Boal, 1990). Liberation and transformation A common contemporary rallying cry in the movement for social justice is that ‘nobody is coming to save us; we have to save ourselves’. Freire embodied this insight when he wrote: ‘Freedom or Liberation is acquired by conquest; it is not a gift …. Conscientization or critical consciousness is daring to perceive social political and economic conditions and to take action against the oppressive elements of reality’ (Freire, 1970, p. 35).

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Liberation Health social workers believe that the solutions to the problems of individuals, families, and communities are both individual and social. Effective clinical social work practice must involve working with service users to challenge their consciousness; to transform object like experiences into subject like ones, rewriting their own life stories in order to better act upon the world. Freire called this process ‘reading the world’ and noted that the transformation of selfinvolved both an individual and a collective process. To put it another way, liberation and transformation is interpersonal, social, and political. Methods and practice of the liberation health framework In many ways, this approach to mental health practice is a ‘meta theory’ in that involves both political action in the external word (challenging the cop in the streets) and micro interventions in a service user’s internal world (challenging the cop in your head). The Liberation Health framework can almost always be used alongside multiple mental health interventions. While it may be paired with postmodern methods of practice, such as Narrative Therapy, Liberation Health is a framework that makes clear scientific claims about the world. For example, the experience of not having health insurance in Texas, as is the case for 29 per cent of the State’s adult population under the age of sixty five (Hugo Lopez et al., 2020), is negative and will lead to increased risk for poor health outcomes. These facts are not debatable or open to social construction. Methods and practices of Liberation Health need to be tailored to specific contexts and populations. In other words, what works in Boston, Massachusetts, may not work in a rural village in Mexico. Nonetheless, there are some basic practice techniques that can broadly utilized or adapted when working with individuals, families, and communities. Drawing from the frameworks of Freire and the liberation psychologist Ignacio Martin- Baro (Freire, 1970; Martin-Baro, 1994), Liberation Health activists have developed a basic three-step method for social work assessments and interventions: (1) see the problem or situation in its totality, (2) analyse the personal, cultural, and institutional factors affecting the problem, and (3) take action to change the problem or situation (Belkin Martinez, 2014a, 2014b). Liberation health assessments: Step one: Seeing the problem or situation in its totality Seeing the problem in its totality is a crucial first step for a Liberation Health social worker because service users often present with a partial understanding of their problem and this limited view is often an impediment to developing an action plan to adequately address it that is comprehensive and wholistic. Dominant ideologies about individualism and ‘personal responsibility’ often cause people to blame themselves or family members for problems that are caused by socio-political factors. The work of Liberation Health social workers is to partner with service users to deepen and expand their understanding of the

Revolutionary Health 171 nature, scope, and dimensions of their problems and question or rethink how the problem is described or situated (Belkin Martinez, 2014a, 2014b). For example, to counter the dominant worldview messages of individualism, service user are asked to externalize their problems by creating a list of problems that are getting in the way of their optimal functioning. It’s often a challenge for individuals and families not to put people on their lists, but with guidance from the social worker, it can be done. A daughter that initially identifies her father as ‘the problem’ can be helped to identify what’s getting in the way of she and her father getting along. In this example, miscommunication may be the identified problem rather than the father, an externalized problem statement can facilitate the next liberation health step: a comprehensive analysis of all factors affecting the problem. Liberation health assessment: Step two: Analysing the personal, cultural, and institutional factors affecting the problem Once service users have described the ways the externalized problem has impacted their lives and how they have dealt with it, the next step in the assessment process involves what narrative therapists might call ‘developing a “thick story”’; helping individuals understand the problem beyond their dominant ideologies, values, and prejudices (Madsen, 2007). This entails identifying the stories, messages, and frame through which a service users sees/understands their problem: it’s individual, cultural, and structural dimension. Liberation Health social workers use the figure of a triangle to visually identify and demonstrate how personal, cultural, and institutional factors affect the identified problem. Personal factors include individual and developmental histories of trauma, loss, illness, and interpersonal conflict. Cultural factors include ideological and hegemonic messages about race, class, gender, ability, stigma, sexual identity, individualism, competition, and consumerism. Institutional factors include capitalism, the healthcare system, educational system, and criminal justice system. Triangulating the problem (with the identified issue at the centre of the triangle and the personal, cultural, and institutional factors at each point in the triangle) is a process of problem posing and dialog between the social worker and service user. This process, what Martin-Baro referred to as ‘lifting the veil of ignorance’, facilitates a complex analysis, which involves discussion of the socio-political factors affecting the problem and allows both the service user, and social worker, to question the taken -for-granted assumptions of the causal factors impacting their lives. It’s important to note that the three identified categories of factors, personal, cultural, and institutional, are not mutually exclusive. Each category of factors is related and reinforce each other. With the example noted earlier, the father and daughter may have a significant history of interpersonal conflict or the father may have a diagnosis of depression. The ideological messages around gender roles, classism, and ‘personal responsibility’ may influence each family member to blame the other for the problem and avoid seeking help until a crisis occurs. The for-profit healthcare system in the United States and lack of a living wage

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undoubtedly would cause significant stress for the family and make it hard to access any sort of preventive services. Undertaking a critical analysis of the factors contributing to the identified problem helps service users to stop blaming themselves and make new meanings of their original narrative. Liberation health assessment: Step three: Developing and implementing an action plan Following the collaborative triangle analysis of the problem, Liberation Health social workers and service users design and develop an action plan. Based on the feedback we received from service users, the action plan consists of three components: (1) agreement on what needs to change about the problem, (2) agreement on what life will look like once the problem is address (a long-term version), and (3) agreement on a concrete week-by week action plan to address the problem. Each component of the action plan has the following dimensions: the personal focuses on changes in personal practice and behavioural change to help address the problem. The cultural focuses on ideological practice or worldview deconstruction (see below) to generate and sustain alternative narratives, stories, and frames to help address the problem, and the institutional or structural interventions focuses on challenging external systems of oppression, addressing the broader social context of the problem. The concrete action plan is updated weekly. For example, the father and daughter might be given communication exercises to practice and asked to reflect on how gender influences styles of communication. The family might be informed that the social worker will be attending a rally for a living wage and asked if they are interested in coming along. As the family engages in action, they discuss their experiences with the social worker and share new understandings and learning. This process, which Freire refers to as praxis, involves taking action, reflecting, and taking action. It’s both an individual and collective process; with the goal of moving object like experiences to subject like ones. Liberation health interventions As previously noted, Liberation Health interventions can be used alongside various mental health models. Indeed, when service users are in crisis, their immediate needs must be attended to and political action often doesn’t happen until people are feeling more grounded and cantered. Nonetheless, Liberation Health social workers can always problem pose around ideological messages and how these messages affect service users’ understanding of the problem. For liberation health practitioners, unless you are addressing the ‘cop in your head’, you aren’t doing social work. Identifying dominant worldview messages Many of the dominant worldview messages we internalize under our system of racial capitalism are oppressive and toxic. These messages are created to

Revolutionary Health 173 reinforce an exploitive system that pits individuals and groups against each other and prioritizes the needs of the market over community and individual achievement and profit above the common good (Ferguson and Lavalette, 2013). To survive, individuals accustom themselves to these messages to the point where they come to think of them as the truth. Identifying a dominant ideology involves helping people become aware of the implications and consequences of these messages, ideas, or worldviews and assisting them to begin to question them and the existing social conditions they reinforce. Bell et al. (2008) call these dominant worldview messages that articulate, reiterate, and reinforce dominant mainstream narratives ‘stock stories’. An example of a stock story is the story of meritocracy. The systemic discrimination against the working class and people of colour in employment, workplaces, wages, career ladders, housing etc. has long been justified by stock stories in which are embedded stereotypes that present the working class and people of colour as, by nature, lacking the intelligence, aptitude, and work ethic necessary to compete with and attain the same level of achievements as whites. Employers have long used these arguments to justify refusing to hire people of colour, to pay them equal wages, or to promote them to positions of authority (Belkin Martinez et al., 2021). Labour organizations have used these stories to justify not recruiting people of colour into unions, not defending them on the job, or supporting them when they are on strike. Conservatives have frequently relied on these stories to object to federal and state efforts to address racial discrimination in the workplace (Roediger, 1994). To combat dominant worldview ideologies, the first component of the Liberation Health intervention is to critically identify the stock story that may be a factor contributing to a service user’s problem. For the father and daughter communication problem discussed earlier, the father might have disclosed that discussing his thoughts and feelings with family members isn’t something he is comfortable doing because ‘as a man, I don’t share’. A stock story contributing to the communication problem could be dominant messages about gender roles and how men are ‘supposed to behave’. The social worker can ask problem posing questions to help this father identify the stock story about men and communication. Utilizing Stuart Hall’s theory of signalling practice and types (Hall, 1997), the social worker can investigate, in collaboration with service users, if the story in question (men shouldn’t talk about their feelings) essentializes members of a racial or ethnic group or asserts that all the members of the group share and are best understood by those oversimplified, exaggerated characteristics, traits, or patterns of behaviour. They can enquire if the very essence of who they are is explained by these characteristics, traits, or patterns of behaviour. If this ideological message puts forth the idea that these characteristics, traits, or patterns of behaviour are natural and immutable, it is communicating a stereotype. If the message or story in question draws boundaries between different racial and ethnic groups (in this case cisgendered men and women) and suggests that one belongs to or is an integral part of the community while others are deviant or

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alien to it is communicating a stereotype (Hall, 1997; Ma, 2014). Identifying dominate worldview messages, and rejecting essentialism and splitting are first steps in Liberation Health interventions. Deconstructing dominant worldview messages The next component of a Liberation Health intervention is to unpack and interrogate the dominant stock stories and uncover the stereotypes they carry. Circling back to Martin-Baro’s work around ‘lifting the veil of ignorance’ (MartinBaro, 1994), this involves asking problem posing questions around the narrative ideas and taken for granted assumptions about a service user’s understanding of the problem. In other words, it is a recursive model of worldview deconstruction or deideologising the original narrative (Belkin Martinez, 2014a, 2014b). One method Liberation Health social workers can use to help service users deconstruct dominant worldview messages is to collaboratively identify concealed stories. Bell et al. note that concealed stories coexist alongside the dominant stock stories but most often remain in the shadows, hidden from public view. Concealed stories are often circulated, told, and retold by people at the margins whose experiences and aspirations they express and honour. They provide a perspective that is often very different from that of the mainstream one. Through such stories, people who are marginalized or stigmatized by the dominant society, recount their experiences and critique or ‘talk back’ to mainstream narratives, telling stories of struggle, self-affirmation, and survival in the face of oppressive circumstances. By promoting the telling of concealed stories we reveal the biases and stereotypes in stock stories, present alternative perspectives, and help develop a fuller, truer picture of our society and its structures and institutions (Bell et al., 2008). A concealed story about gender roles might call for asking service users to identify or describe cisgendered males they may know who don’t confirm to dominant worldview messaging about how ‘men’ are supposed to communicate. It may involve watching a movie or listening to a podcast that presents an expansive view of communication that is not defined by gender. It can also include getting involved in a local issue or campaign, which would give service users the opportunity to re-examine taken for assumptions about the world. Through dialogue and problem posing, the Liberation Health social worker and service user can call into questions preconceived notions of ‘truth’ about the world. Identifying new information and rescuing the historical memory of change The final Liberation Health component of addressing the ‘cop in our head’ includes introducing new information and rescuing the historical memory of change. Introducing new information can change consciousness and assist individuals become aware of facts heretofore unknown. Paulo Freire’s pedagogy, which is an instrument of social change and transformation requires individuals to ‘remember’ stories of resistance and rebellion. These narratives are often

Revolutionary Health 175 hidden from the community precisely because they challenge the status quo or dominant worldview. A Liberation Health social worker can help bring these narratives of liberation and empowerment to the surface and shine a bright light on them. Bell and her colleagues described the value of resistance stories in the fight against oppression. Resistance stories are stories, both historical and contemporary, that tell us about how people have resisted injustice, challenged the stock stories that support it, and fought for more equal and inclusive social arrangements. Resistance stories are the reserve of stories built up through the ages about challenges to an unjust status quo. Examining resistance through the lens of antiracism, she observed that such stories can teach us about anti-racist perspectives and practices that have existed throughout our history, and those that are happening currently, thus expanding our vision of what is possible in our own antiracism work (Bell et al., 2008). In applying this intervention to our family with miscommunication issues, sharing a resistance story about cisgendered men involved in the struggle against toxic masculinity might be helpful for our father struggling with communication. Bell also believed that people needed to create what she called counter stories, new stories that are deliberately constructed to challenge stock stories, build on and amplify resistance stories, and offer ways to disrupt the ideological status quo and work for social change. To fight white supremacy, its stock stories and stereotypes, we need to promote the counter stories of others. But we also need to create our own counter-stories as well. The movie, Judas and the Black Messiah, for example, was a new counter story about the Black Panther Party and the role of the FBI and the Chicago police department in the murder of its leader, Fred Hampton. In summary, stock stories and concealed stories are, in many ways, two sides of the same coin, reflecting on the same ‘realities’ of social life, but from different perspectives. One reinforces dominant ideologies while the other undermines them. Resistance and counter stories are also linked through their capacity to challenge stock stories. Resistance stories become the basis upon which counter stories and new stories can be imagined and serve to energize their creation. Activism as a therapeutic intervention While much of Liberation Health practice is focused identifying and deconstructing dominant ideologies, it is essential for social workers to be actively committed to changing the material conditions that oppress the majority of global citizens. As such, social workers must be movement builders. Individuals, acting on their own, will not be able to bring down the system of racial capitalism. Collectively, in struggle alongside of service users and millions of others, we can organize for significant reforms and the dismantling of harmful systems, and in the process promote a new vision of society. Our Boston Liberation Health group is involved in numerous mass action campaigns. These include struggles for housing justice, workers rights and the

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labour movement, and for ending all forms of oppression. We are active participants in the global movement for radical and revolutionary social work practice and are members of the Social Work Action Network-International. To quote from the Social Work Action Network International (SWANI) founding statement: ‘Social work takes many forms – working with individuals, groups and communities. But, at heart, many of the difficulties that people face in this world are rooted in social problems and must be addressed collectively and politically’ (Social Work Action Network, 2020).

Conclusion As discussed at the beginning of this chapter, Covid-19 has unmasked the economic, political, and social crisis this world has been heading towards for at least thirty-five years. This crisis reinforces the urgent need for an alternative health care system in the United States and for free, culturally competent mental health services for everyone who needs them. Ultimately, what we desperately need is a fundamental change in peoples’ material conditions and a fundamental reorganization of society with a clear focus on the common good. An economic system that prioritizes the profits of the few over the needs of the many and a culture that values individualism and competition over solidarity and community is toxic. It is destroying us, and the planet, at the same time. Another world is possible, but we need to build it. Right now, the stakes are high and the future is uncertain. The great South African freedom fighter Stephen Biko wrote that ‘the most potent weapon in hands of the oppressor is the mind of the oppressed’ (Biko, 1971). Liberation Health social work is challenging the cop in the streets and the cop in our head so that communities can transform object like experiences into a subject like stance in the world. We agree with Stephen Biko and understand Liberation Health practice to be revolutionary. It’s part of the multiracial movement for our collective liberation.

References Belkin Martinez, D. (2014a). Introduction: why liberation health social work? In D. Belkin Martinez and A. Fleck Henderson (eds.) Social justice in clinical practice: a liberation health framework for social work. London: Routledge, pp. 1–5. Belkin Martinez, D. (2014b). Chapter 1: the liberation health model. In D. Belkin Martinez and A. Fleck Henderson (eds.) Social justice in clinical practice: a liberation health framework for social work. London: Routledge, pp. 9–28. Belkin Martinez, D., Hamilton, G., and Toraif, N. (2021). Boston university school of social work, Understanding structural and institutional racism: an introduction. Internal Document. Bell, L.A., Roberts, R.A., Irani, K., and Murphy, B. (2008). The story telling project. Teaching about racism and tolerance through storytelling and the arts. Barnard College. Retrieved August 23. Available at: http://www.columbia.edu/itc/barnard/education/ stp/stp_curriculum.pdf

Revolutionary Health 177 Biko, S. (1971). Speech in Capetown south Africa. Retrieved September 1 2021. Available at: https://www.sahistory.org.za/archive/quotes-steve-biko#:~:text=%22The%20most %20potent%20weapon%20in,the%20mind%20of%20the%20oppressed.%22 Boal, A. (1990). ‘The cop in the head; three hypotheses’, The Drama Journal, 34(3), pp. 35–42. The Boston Globe. (2021, December 16). Social workers are a key part of the solution to the mental health crisis. Available at: https://www.bostonglobe.com/2021/12/16/opinion/ social-workers-are-key-part-solution-mental-health-crisis/#:~:text=A%20large %20omission%2C%20however%2C%20is,percent%20of%20mental%20health %20services Covid‐19 Tracker. (2020). Nationwide, Black People are dying at 2.5 times the rate of white people. Retrieved August 8, 2020. Available at: https://covidtracking.com/race Curtin, S., and Hedeggard, H. (2017). ‘Suicide rates for women and men by race and ethnicity: 1999 & 2017. Center for disease control’. Retrieved January 1 2022. Available at: https://www.cdc.gov/nchs/data/hestat/suicide/rates_1999_2017.htm Federal Reserve Survey (2020). Federal reserve survey of household economics and decision making. Retrieved October 1 2021. Available at: https://www.federalreserve.gov/ consumerscommunities/shed.htm Ferguson, I., and Lavalette, M. (2013). ‘Critical and radical social work: an introduction’, Critical and Radical Social Work, 1(1), pp. 3–14 Ferrer, A., Graziani, T., and Woocher, J. (2020). Nearly 11,000 homeless people died in LA in 2020 as 93,000 homes sit vacant. Available at: https://zcomm.org/znetarticle/ nearly‐1000‐homeless‐people‐died‐in‐la‐in‐2020‐as‐93000‐homes‐sit‐vacant/ Freire, P. (1970). Pedagogy of the oppressed. New York: Continuum International. Freire, P. (1973). Education for critical consciousness. New York: Continuum International. Freire, P. (1996). Letters to Christina: reflections of my life and work. London: Routledge. Freire, P. (1998). Pedagogy of freedom: ethics, democracy and civic courage. Maryland: Rowman and Littlefield. Hall, S. (1997). Representation: cultural representations and signifying practices. California: Sage. Hinson, S. (2016). Worldview and the contest of ideas. Grassroots Policy Project. https:// grassrootspolicy.org/wp-content/uploads/2017/03/GPP_WorldviewAndTheContestOfIdeas.pdf Hugo Lopez, M., Rainie, L., and Budiman, A. (2020, May, 5). Financial and health impacts of Covid-19 vary widely by race and ethnicity. Pew Research Institute. https://www. pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2020/05/05/financial-and-health-impacts-of-covid-19-varywidely-by-race-and-ethnicity/ Ma, C. (2014). What are you laughing at? A social semiotic analysis of ironic racial sterotyping in Chappelle’s show. Masters Thesis, London School of Economics and Political Science. Media@ LSC MSC Dissertation Series. Madsen, W. (2007). Collaborative therapy with multi-stressed families: from old problems to new futures. New York: Guilford Press. Martin-Baro, I. (1994). Writings for a liberation psychology: essays 1985–1989. Massachusetts: Harvard University Press. Meissner, H.I., Glasgow, R.E., and Vinson, C.A. (2013). ‘The U.S. Training institute for dissemination and implementation research in health’, Implementation Science, 8, p. 12. 10.1186/1748-5908-8-12 Mouffe, C. (2018). For a left populism. New York: Verso.

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National Low Income Housing Coalition. (2021). Out of reach: the high cost of housing. Ostrowski, J. (2021). Fewer than 4 in 10 Americans could pay a surprise 1000 bill. Retrieved January 17, 2022. Available at: https://www.bankrate.com/banking/savings/financialsecurity-january-2021/ Roediger, D.R. (1994). Towards the abolition of whiteness: essays on race, politics, and working class history. New York: Verso. Saba, P. (n.d.). Worldview for activists: An introduction. Retrieved August 8, 2021. Available at: https://www.liberationhealth.org Social Work Action Network – International (2020). Founding statement. Retrieved August 8, 2021. Available at: https://socialworkfuture.org/wp-content/uploads/2020/ 06/Social-Work-Action-Network-International-FOUNDING-STATEMENT-1.pdf The New York Times, (2021, December 15). A mental health crisis among the young. Available at: https://www.nytimes.com/2021/12/15/opinion/letters/mental-health-youth.html UCLA Health (2020 June 25). States with the highest income inequality experienced a larger number of Covid deaths. Available at: https://www.uclahealth.org/news/states-with-thehighest-income-inequality-also-experienced-a-larger-number-of-covid-19-deaths Washington Post (2021, July 16). The U.S is growing more unequal. Available at: https:// www.washingtonpost.com/opinions/2021/07/16/us-is-growing-more-unequal-thatsharmful-fixable/

10 Conclusion: The Need for a Revolutionary Social Work Masoud Kamali

Social work: A profession in crisis Neoliberalism, increasing socio-economic inequalities, securitisation policies, growing racism and increasing oppressive measures by neoliberal and managerial governments have transformed social work into a profession that is mainly concerned with control and the protection of the market and the neoliberal system of governance. Citing the Marxist philosopher Walter Benjamin, who – in his thesis ‘On the Concept of History’ (1940) – characterised capitalism as an out-of-control locomotive hurtling down the rail tracks towards the abyss, Ferguson and Lavallette’s contribution to this book argues that capitalism has created an existential crisis for humanity. They mention four of the most important crises, i.e., the ecological, the economic, the political and, finally, the increasing imperialist rivalry between major military powers in the world. As they argue, in respect of the first of these crises, ‘capitalism treats nature, and its resources, as commodities to be “used”, destroyed, bought, and exchanged for profit’. The second crisis, regarding the economy, is one that is firmly embedded in the capitalist system, and makes life ever more difficult for disadvantaged groups in society. The third crisis, meanwhile, concerns the political situation that the widespread adaptation of neoliberal ideologies and policies – by almost all governments around the globe, including those comprised by formerly social democratic parties – has created. This has been accompanied by a dramatic decrease in support from the working class and other disadvantaged groups for parties traditionally aligned with the left and with social democratic ideals – and, instead, increasing support for right-wing and racist parties. Political fascism is on the rise and threatens to compound existing divisions in society, by reinforcing classism and institutional racism. The fourth crisis is related to increasing imperialist rivalry and the threat of military confrontations and so a higher risk of a devastating atomic war. Ferguson and Lavallette contend that the profession of social work has reacted to such crises in three different ways: either by collusion, compliance or contestation. Social workers who react to the neoliberal crisis by collusion are those who actively co-operate with the oppressive state. This group can be viewed as following in the same vein as social workers who co-operated with the DOI: 10.4324/9781003194842-10

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Nazi German government – those who are labelled by Hanna Arendt as ‘unthinking bureaucrats’. Those who react by compliance, meanwhile, are those who try to adopt an image of social work as an apolitical profession aiming at helping people and do not care about the reasons and roots of social problems. The third reaction to the neoliberal capitalist crisis is contestation, which means active resistance to oppression and taking sides. This has been most obvious in the great social movements of the 1970s in Britain, Canada, Australia and the USA. However, social workers have also been actively involved in anti-colonial and anti-apartheid movements in non-Western countries, which are still continuing around the world. Social workers belonging to this category reject collusion and compliance with the existing system of oppression and structural and institutional inequalities. This is also illustrated by the authors participating in this book when exploring the role of social workers in countering austerity and neoliberal political protests. Depoliticising social work by political means Political oppression involves the exercising of both material and symbolic violence. As argued in the introduction to this book, governmental authority is reproduced by creating consent among those subjected to neoliberal governance. The neoliberal government and its related institutions, including the market, make use of both physical and symbolic violence in their efforts for creating such consent. The main aim is to convince people of the necessity of the neoliberal system by presenting it as ‘the only alternative’. Neoliberal reforms have been some of the most extensive changes in the system of the liberal capitalist state and its institutional arrangements. Neoliberalisation of social policy and the retreat of liberal welfare were legitimised as necessary to reduce the financial burden of the state in a time when the economic power of the state has shrunken as a result of tax reductions for the wealthiest in society. The neoliberal system, which was first implemented in Chile under the reign of a military regime, proved itself effective if resistance was oppressed by a controlling and oppressive state in combination with an almost uncontrolled market. The state and its social policy should be the protector and the servant of the market. As Schram and Silverman (2012, p. 128) argue: Over the past few decades, the human services have been transformed, not just in the United States but also in other countries where pressure grows to emulate the United States in a globalising world. Neoliberal organizational reforms, like devolution, privatization and performance management, have been joined with paternalist policy tools, like sanctions, or financial penalties for noncompliant clients, to create a flexible but disciplinary approach to managing the populations being served. Neoliberal paternalism represents a society-wide movement to marketise the operations of social service organisations more generally, so that they inculcate in clients a market compliant orientation aimed at making them less dependent on the shrinking human services and more

The Need for a Revolutionary Social Work 181 willing to accept the positions allotted to them on the bottom of the socioeconomic order. Social policy and social work make use of ‘paternalist policy tools’ to discipline ‘clients’ and force them to become employable subjects and serve the capitalist market. As Schram and Silverman (2012, p. 129) argue: ‘Neoliberal paternalism is transforming the human services into a disciplinary regime for managing poverty populations’. However, the neoliberal authoritarian state cannot succeed in implementing its ‘paternalistic policies’ without some degree of compliance with such policies, among both social workers and the public in general. The neoliberal state uses, then, all tools at its disposal to create consent and make its neoliberal policies ‘acceptable’. Violence, both in its physical and symbolic forms, which has been monopolised by the state in its modern formation, is frequently used to create such consent. One of the most important actions of the neoliberal state in achieving consent is its control of and intervention in education. Emile Durkheim observed, already in the early 1900s, that modern education is one of the most important tools for the government in reducing conflicts and creating integration in society. Durkheim, however, believed that the modern nation state is a welfare state, which, through a just tax-system that makes the ‘redistribution of resources’ possible, has the ambition of creating a sustainable society (Durkheim, 1984; Kamali, 1997). However, the capitalist development of neoliberalism forced such ideas to the margin; and, as Paul Michael Garrett (2010) argues, neoliberalism has constantly aimed to redistribute in favour of the rich, which has led to the centrality of insecurity and precariousness, a situation that has also influenced social work education, which relates to a profession now changed and governed by neoliberalism considerations. As an aspect, then, of neoliberal governance, modern education today is frequently used to create consent to the system. The neoliberal reforms of modern education have also influenced higher education. As Phillip Ablett et al. in their contribution to this book argue, the dehumanising neoliberal processes that have permeated every aspect of our existence have also largely captured higher education, and subsequently, much of the profession of social work. Neoliberal universities are systematically oppressing critical and radical researchers and invisibilising critically oriented publication outputs. Influenced by neoliberal social policy, social work has been de-politicised, and social workers have been trained to possess special social skills for, in turn, influencing and compelling individuals into serving the market. Ablett et al. argue that the neoliberalisation of higher education impacts those skills and forms of knowledge that are aimed at producing ‘critical agents’ who can build a formative and critical culture necessary for a democratic society. When universities are in chains (Giroux, 2007), and neoliberal hegemony is influencing all aspects of the organisation and content of higher education, producing critical knowledge and educating ‘critical agents’ are extremely difficult processes. The aim of neoliberal education becomes, then, to educate employable,

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neoliberal agents; and the aim of the neoliberal social policy and social work is, then, to force ‘clients’ to become employable subjects. An important aspect of the neoliberalisation of social work education has been the marginalisation and even exclusion of critical and theoretical knowledge as part of the implementation of blind professionalism and evidencebased training. Even in Nordic countries, which, until recently, have had the world’s strongest welfare states, critical and theoretical knowledge has been excluded from social work education (Kamali and Jönsson, 2019; Lauri and Jönsson, 2021). As a result of the increasing neoliberalisation of universities during the past few decades, the power and influence of the university leadership and administration has dramatically increased and influenced the working conditions of educators and researchers, reducing their freedom and transforming them into ‘academic workers’, acting in the context of ‘alladministrative universities’ Ginsberg, 2011; Brown, 2016). This has created neoliberal administrative oppression, a situation that increasingly reduces the influence of educators and researchers on the content of education and research in universities (Giroux, 2007; Gutiérrez Rodríguez, 2016; Morley, 2016; Bottrell and Manathunga, 2019). Following Gramsci’s argument on hegemony, the dominance of neoliberal ideology and institutional arrangements is nurtured by making it a part of the ‘common sense’ in society. Modern education, as mentioned earlier, is one of the most influential tools in the hands of governments, elites and the ruling classes to create this common sense. This mechanism is also necessary in order to hinder resistance and mass protests against injustices. As Rosa Luxemburg (1970) said in 1900, in her famous essay on Bernstein, the entire strength of the modern labour movement rests on theoretical knowledge. When critical theoretical knowledge is excluded, a ‘false consciousness’ is (re)produced through mainstream education, mass media and undemocratic ‘democratic games’. Punishing resistance and the rise of nationalist racist parties The neoliberalisation of social work education and practices does not go without resistance. However, the neoliberal system makes use of a system of symbolic violence. This system of exercising power by dominant and privileged groups is based on a system of ‘reward and punishment’ Bourdieu, 1998a, 2001). Bourdieu adds the mechanisms of symbolic violence to a Weberian definition of the modern state. He defines the state as an organisation comprising ‘the monopoly of the legitimate use of physical and symbolic violence over a definite territory’ (Bourdieu, 1998b, p. 40). The neoliberal state, thus, makes use of all legitimate (and sometimes illegitimate) means to exercise its power to control and discipline citizens so that they accept ‘the order of things’, which serves the interests of the market. Those who obey and accept the will of the market and the state are not subjected to symbolic or physical violence; those who actively comply to neoliberal ideology and practices are rewarded; and those who resist or protest against neoliberal management and practices become subjected to

The Need for a Revolutionary Social Work 183 negative sanctions and punishments Kamali, 2021). Social workers are forced to be ‘professionals’ who will just do whatever their employers and the management staff want of them. The main body of current governmental and municipal social work is adjusted to neoliberal market logic, under the cover of professionalism. The professionalisation of social work has been an inseparable part of the colonisation of other countries and crucial in settler-colonial state formations; as Fortier and Hon-Sing Wong (2019, p. 437) argue, ‘contemporary social work and social service provision remain circumscribed by the logics of conquest, extraction, apprehension, management, and pacification that advance the settler project and seek to secure settler futurity’. This is especially true for many Western countries of today, when social work is used as a tool in the policies of ‘war on terror’, securitisation and restricted migration policies (Finch et al., 2022). Moreover, the political rise of nationalist racist parties has reinforced such professionalisation and helped heighten the ignorance of many social workers towards increasing injustices and racism, as well as the marginalisation of ‘the social question’. As Breman et al. (2019, pp. 1–2) argu The pernicious effects of mass immiseration have found poignant political expressions in, on the one hand, the surge in ultra-conservative, nationalistic, and populist politics and trends (such as the election of Donald Trump, Britain’s exit from the European Union, and xenophobic rejections of refugees arriving in Europe), and on the other, the mass protests and occupy movements against austerity and crony capitalism. And yet, the worldwide erasure of the ‘social’ in favor of self-employment and selfreliance emphasized by neoliberal ideology has repressed the social question from public discussion. The problems of the retreating welfare state and of increasing socioeconomic gaps in almost all societies around the world have helped nationalist, neofascist and racist parties and groups to gain political success and influence. The political success of such parties, which advocate welfare chauvinism as part of a racist and nationalist ideology, reinforces socioeconomic gaps and social divisions. The political power and influence of such parties reinforces the fact that neoliberal nation states are incapable of fighting inequalities and oppressions and cannot generate any attempts to reduce socioeconomic and cultural gaps between their subjects. The totalitarianism of neoliberal world order is transforming the profession of social work to be a means of the reproduction of global inequalities and oppressions. The profession of social work, including its education and practices, is therefore in deep crisis and is to make a historical and painful choice in order to survive as a human profession committed to socioeconomic justice and promoting equity.

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Revolutionary social work The transformation of the liberal nation state into the neoliberal state, characterised by weak welfare policies and strong oppressive measures, has also influenced social work education, research and practices (Kamali and Jönsson, 2018). As contributors to this book argue, another form of social work than the existing, ‘professional’ and governmental version is needed: a social work which does not comply with neoliberal states’ policies and ideologies. This requires a fundamental transformation of social work if it is not to be an oppressive means for implementing neoliberal states’ policies. Some commentators have even called for further measures. Chris Maylea (2020), for instance, arguing that it is time to abolish social work because it is beyond all hope of reform and repair. He provides four reasons for his claim: ‘social work’s lack of coherent theory base, the problem of professionalism, social work’s historical abuses and the profession’s inability to rise to contemporary challenges’ (p. 772). However, while Maylea’s concern about the currently insufficient and even destructive role of social work as the partner of neoliberal governments has many merits, it also has some problems that should be addressed – not least in relation to his first claim, regarding theoretical knowledge. Indeed, there is barely a discipline that has a ‘coherent theory base’ – or even a theory that is exhaustively coherent. Besides, there are many scholars who have provided theoretical bases for social work. However, neoliberal governments, through their exercise of power and control, nurtured a ‘theory-less’ social work in which mainstream social workers have become professional governmental agents. The problem of social work is, therefore, not the lack of a theoretical basis, but the neoliberal political system, which instrumentalises social work as a tool of oppression and control. As Garrett (2021) argues, Maylea’s call to ‘end social work’ comes at a time when neoliberal governments see social work as a cost for the state and almost unnecessary given that social problems, and ideas of success and failure, have been individualised and the structural and individual mechanisms behind socioeconomic divisions and social problems are now typically totally ignored. Maylea claims that his call to ‘end social work’ is not against those engaged in social work practices, since many have good intentions, but that ‘this is an attack on our institutionalisation, a rejection of our professionalisation. The destruction of the institution, of the profession, is an act of our own liberation’ (p. 774). He raises a very important point about the problems of institutionalised social work and its destructive role in the neoliberal system of governance. Although professional social work in its current shape is increasingly cooperative with neoliberal governments, there are still many social workers, social work researchers and educators who want a world other than the current neoliberal and unjust world order. As Ferguson and Lavallette argue in this book, although social work cannot solve the world-scale problems created by the neoliberal capitalist system, it can be a significant actor in the global movement for justice. To plea for the abolition of social work can lead to the weakening of

The Need for a Revolutionary Social Work 185 the global movement for justice. What is urgently needed is a revolutionary movement in social work, one that can and should challenge institutionalised and professionalised, neoliberal, colonial, imperialist and racist forms of social work. This is mainly a political movement given that social work should not be limited to individual interventions for helping those in need, but should also be engaged in political movements for policy change. Social work has a political agency (Ferguson et al., 2018; Silva, 2018). Indeed, Kashani and Esfandiari’s contribution to this book shows that social work is highly political. They demonstrate how the Iranian revolution of 1979 created a ground for a strong welfare state and generated a discourse of social justice, which is still influencing social work and social workers’ mobilisation against the current neoliberal system of governance in Iran. Another illustration is provided in this book by Paz Valenzuela-Rebolledo, Gerhard Aldana-Araza, Carla Morales-Torres and Gianinna Muñoz-Arce, who show how social workers actively participated in the political 18-O movement that succeeded in fighting neoliberalism and in changing the neoliberal and dictatorial constitution of the Pinochet regime. Notwithstanding neoliberalisation, including the neoliberal professionalisation of social work, there are many areas of social work actions that counteract neoliberal oppression and fight for structural changes and the liberation of the most unprivileged in society. A few illustrations of this are presented in this book, such as Dawn Belkin-Martinez’s and Dimitra-Dora Teloni’s chapters. Revolutionary social work is about mobilisation of those in need of social work intervention, and active participation in a social movement aiming at promoting political, structural and institutional changes in the neoliberal capitalist system. Revolutionary social work must move beyond national boundaries and act globally, to successfully challenge the global neoliberalism. In doing so, social workers, educators and researchers must believe in and emphasise the following ideals: •

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Social work has a political agency and must act and take the lead in combatting the neoliberal political, socioeconomic and cultural global system. The currently unequal, oppressing and postcolonial world order has been developed based on political action and decision-making and, therefore, can also be changed politically. The roots of social problems are structural and should not be seen as individual failings. Social work must reject the neoliberal assumption that social problems and their solutions are the responsibility of the individual. A refusal to be agents of and for neoliberal governments’ surveillance, controlling and securitisation policies. A belief in a world order other than neoliberal racial capitalism, one in which the state is a welfare state putting people before the market and profit maximisation. In such a system, the state will be the real representative of the public and serve the people, and not, as with the current neoliberal state, be the servant of the market.

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Revolutionary social work is mainly based on the belief that another world order is possible, beyond the current neoliberal capitalist system of globalised oppression that has created existential problems for the human community through a toxic combination of global ecological, socioeconomic and political crises. Social problems should be seen and addressed in such a structural, institutional and political context. Revolutionary changes should take place within the discipline of social work to resist neoliberalism, racism, post- and neo-colonialism and imperialism. It should counteract the destructive role of the surveillance state that, in cooperation with global capitalist companies and complex military industries, is destroying our globe and human societies. The following are some suggestions for promoting revolutionary changes within the discipline of social work: •

Decolonisation of the knowledge base of social work. The West-centric knowledge base of social work research and education is part of the problem. This means academic struggle against the reproduction of the coloniality of knowledge production and education, and a commitment to radical change in the curriculum of social work education. An understanding of history and the historical processes that have created an unequal and unjust world, sometimes referred to as a world dominated by ‘racial capitalism’, must be part of the process of decolonising social work’s knowledge base. As Bourdieu (Bourdieu and Wacquant, 2001, p. 4) describes, neoliberalism is a ‘mental colonisation’ that operates globally and influences almost everybody working in the neoliberal context. Modern political orders and governmental technologies are essentially linked to the production of knowledge and to the powers of expertise, which makes it possible for the government to ‘govern at a distance’ (Rose and Miller, 2010). The main body of neoliberalised social work education makes it possible for the neoliberal government to ‘govern at a distance’ by making educators and researchers the messengers of neoliberal ideology and knowledge, which, in turn, influences students and soon-to-be social workers. This must be counteracted by decolonisation of knowledge, through critical and radical education and research that aims at dismantling the colonial knowledge embedded in social work education. As Emirbayer and Johnson (2008, p. 31), referring to Bourdieu’s analysis of domination, argue, The only way to bring about organizational change that does not entail merely replacing one modality of domination with another is to address specifically and to undo the mechanisms of dehistoricization and universalization – ‘always and everywhere it has been this way’ – whereby arbitrary workings of power are enabled to continue.

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Revolutionary resistance to governmentalisation and neutralisation of power relations. Social work academics and practitioners should resist and

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denounce any activity that reproduces governmentalisation, that is, any activity that helps in the reproduction of ‘false consciousness’ about the real and structural roots of global inequalities and social problems. Social workers should discuss with those in need of social work interventions the structural roots of social problems in order to counteract such widespread and mediatised ‘false consciousness’. The everyday practices of power relations through education, mass media, social policy and organisations are part of the ‘technologies of government’ to ‘normalise’ the order of things, or the status quo, in society. Revolutionary resistance to symbolic violence. The capitalist and neoliberal control of education and of national and global media provides the neoliberal state and powerful agents with the means to legitimate oppression, colonial knowledge, racism and the globalisation of neoliberalism, by presenting inequalities as the consequences of individual choices and neoliberal capitalism as ‘the only alternative’. Confronting this situation requires the active participation of social work academics and practitioners in public debates and in generating new revolutionary discourses and practices that challenge oppressive categorisations and discourses in the political field and in media discourses. Challenging symbolic violence also means questioning the ‘things’ and ‘orders’ that are normalised and treated as being self-evident; social workers should challenge the ‘acceptance of commonplaces’, as Bourdieu (1998a) calls it. Injustices embedded in the current neoliberal system cannot be addressed and challenged without dismantling the normality of the system of neoliberalism. As Paul Michael Garrett argues in his contribution to this book, more attention needs be afforded to processes of silencing, theoretically connected as they are to ‘symbolic violence’ and ‘epistemic injustice’. Social workers must start escaping the symbolic violence within their own minds that prevents them from dismantling neoliberal normalisation through a system of ‘rewards and punishment’. Participation in public debate in order to challenge the neoliberal and governmentalising public discourses, and instead create alternative discourses that address the structural and institutional basis of inequalities, oppressions and social problems, is an important task for social workers, educators and researchers. Revolutionary resistance to the surveillance state. Neoliberal states’ securitisation policies have influenced the role of social work and social workers by engaging them in surveillance policies and actions. This requires a revolutionary and reflexive positioning of social workers in their everyday practices by establishing lasting relations with progressive activist groups in civil society. This may even require some seemingly ‘illegal actions’, such as helping and organising undocumented migrants and other excluded groups to gain political and social rights. These kinds of actions and activities are normally deemed undesirable by neoliberal governments but are crucial for social workers to challenge the surveillant state. Governmental and municipal social work organisations are increasingly pressurising social

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Masoud Kamali workers to police ‘clients’ and inform the police of signs of radicalisation, as part of the state’s securitisation policies (Finch et al., 2022). Social workers should reject such claims as harmful to essential relations of trust between them and those in need of social work intervention. Social workers are not the police and social work should not be an organisation and agent of social control. Promoting activism in social work. Social work is a profession defending human dignity and the value of all human beings, irrespective of their place of birth, status, skin colour, gender, ethnicity and other differentiating categorisations. This means that social work is a profession of activism and anti-racial capitalism that must participate in local, national and global social movements for liberation from all forms of oppression. Neoliberal ideology and social policy undermine all forms of activism and transform social workers into administrative agents of social control and political surveillance. Social workers are considered to be professional allies of government and actors in the policies of a securitising surveillance state. Instead, social workers and their organisations should actively counteract such policies and be engaged in social activism beyond the current limits of professionalism and governmental boundaries. Social workers’ participation in the 18-O movement in Chile, as presented by Valenzuela-Rebolledo et al. in this book, the organisation and movement of Boston Liberation Health (discussed in this book by Dawn Belkin-Martinez), Dimitra-Dora Teloni’s chapter on social workers active role in anti-austerity, anti-racist and pro-immigration movement in Greece, and the active participation of social workers in the Black Lives Matter movements globally are inspiring examples of activism. Global alliances with social workers and civil activists combatting the neoliberal world order. Neoliberal capitalism is a global system generating crises and global structural problems that endanger human existence on the earth. Such a system cannot be counteracted without global alliances of social workers and all those who believe in an alternative, just and sustainable system to neoliberal capitalism. Social workers alone, however, cannot take the burden of such a revolutionary transformation for saving human existence worldwide. There are many other groups and NGO organisations and actors who are struggling against neoliberalism and its dangers. Radical organisations of social work and social workers should establish cooperation with such organisations and social movements, to build up a revolutionary critical mass against neoliberal ideology and policies. Promoting global revolutionary and radical organisations and networks. Existing international organisations of social work have proven themselves unable to support and promote radical agendas within the discipline of social work; some, such as IASSW, are, on the contrary, guided by neoliberal ideologies and cooperate closely with governments and other oppressive organs. There are already alternative international radical and revolutionary networks, such as Social Work Action Network International (SWANI), which has

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been very successful in creating a network of radical and revolutionary social workers, educators and researchers who believe that a more just and sustainable alternative to neoliberal capitalism is possible: a system that puts the welfare and wellbeing of people before the interests of the market and capital accumulation. Such networks will have the opportunity to counteract universities’ lack of support for critical and radical research; as neoliberal organisations, universities have not only stopped funding such research but also diminished research conditions for critical researchers. Radical networks will be able to establish an international ‘solidary fund’, to provide alternative systems of funding in support of radical revolutionary research and education. Counteracting militarisation of the world. Increasing numbers of ‘small wars’ and conflicts is another danger or crisis that threatens humanity in a time of the existence of weapons of mass destruction and growing imperialist tensions in the world (Kamali, 2015). Although we are not witnessing ‘big wars’ but, rather, ‘small wars’, which are often either the result of imperialist competition between strong, or imperialist, states for controlling the world, these could develop into major, devastating wars that would eradiate life on the earth as we know it. Social workers should counteract wars and conflicts by all means and participate in raising consciousness about the dangers of war and the value of peace and the equal coexistence of all people around the world. This, of course, necessitates revolutionary changes concerning the capitalist neoliberal system, policies and ideology. Social work researchers, educators and practitioners must stress historicism by addressing the capitalist motives behind the two devastating world wars of the 20th century. They must also address the fact that ‘small wars’ harm many people in non-Western countries and highlight how colonial discourses are legitimising such wars and conflicts, which are mainly created by Western imperialist powers. We are witnessing racial capitalism in practice, in terms of how Western countries handle the war in Ukraine compared to the Israeli war and occupation of Palestine, the US occupation of Iraq, the wars in Afghanistan and Syria and so on. This is notable at the level of how victims of these wars are being treated by the West; while refugees from Ukraine are welcomed by – indeed, are actively invited to come to – various Western countries, being considered to be ‘real refugees’, tens of thousands of non-Western refugees are dying on their way to these self-same countries.

The state is not the problem – but can be the solution The neoliberal ideological project and its political pioneers (e.g. historically, Roland Reagan and Margaret Thatcher) believe and propagate the notion that ‘the state is the problem, not the solution’, in order to neoliberalise the state – replacing the liberal welfare state with the neoliberal ‘workfare state’ in which individuals are taken as being responsible for the social problems and conditions that they face. Under such a system, the state is an oppressive organ, creating

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security for and serving the market. Even major revolutionary and political transformations, such as the Iranian revolution of 1979 and the transformation of the apartheid system and government in South Africa, proved to be unable to win the struggle against neoliberal capitalism, and the new states in those countries, as discussed by Kashani and Esfandiari (the case of Iran) and Linda Harms-Smith (the case of South Africa) in this book, are new neoliberal states serving the global market. Moreover, the decades-long neoliberal colonisation of the nation states by neoliberal market forces, in which the state is now an overtly political ally of a globalising market, has transformed the state into a legitimised organ of physical and symbolic violence. Unlike a Weberian understanding of the state as simply an organ that has monopoly over legitimised physical violence, both Gramsci (1992) and Bourdieu (2000) see the state as an organ for monopolising cultural and symbolical violence – as mechanisms of the creation of consent among people in order to make the current unequal and oppressive order in society acceptable. This is what Gramsci calls the capitalist hegemony, created in a cultural field that is both the field of oppression but also a field of struggle against such hegemony (1992). Bourdieu’s understanding of the state as the organisation that endows and exercises ‘legitimate symbolic violence’ within a national territory is one of an organisation that also encourages struggle against the mechanisms of symbolic violence in the cultural field (Bourdieu, 2000). In other words, although hegemonic neoliberal capitalism, and its mechanisms of symbolic violence, reproduces the neoliberal world order, it also provides the cultural and political field of struggle against such mechanisms. This struggle, against the hegemony of neoliberal ideology and its embedded symbolic violence, should be a process of creating counter-hegemony by which to dismantle the popularised and hegemonised belief that capitalism and its neoliberal formation is the only option. It is an intellectual struggle, aiming at challenging and changing a society’s ‘common sense’ (as Gramsci calls it). As many contributors in this book argue, there is an urgent need for new, antihegemonial discourses in order to unveil neoliberal discourses that veil the real, neoliberal mechanisms behind toxic disasters that threaten humanity. Social workers should be part of this creation of anti-hegemonial discourses. Alongside participation in public critical debates, as Ablett et al. recommend in this book, it is necessary to radicalise social work education and free it from neoliberal discourses and frames, given that social workers are also inclined to promote an entrepreneurial subjectivity to clients. As Belkin-Martinez argues in this book, social workers, if they transform their consciousness and their practice, can play a critical role in confronting the devastating outcomes of racial capitalism and in helping to dismantle these systems. This is more urgent than ever, when critical voices are silenced and oppressed in political debates, academic circles, journalism and civil society (Kamali, 2021). As Garrett argues in this book, such silencing, being theoretically connected to ‘symbolic violence’ and ‘epistemic injustice’, prompts legitimate forms of and collective anger on the part of materially exploited, dominated and vilified communities. The hegemonic

The Need for a Revolutionary Social Work 191 discourse tries to blame the exploited and dominated groups for being angry against such injustices. As Garrett argues, such anger is legitimate and we need more legitimate anger in the struggle for equality and justice. Challenging neoliberal ideology and practices also involves an anti-colonial, liberation movement, aiming at liberating the state from such ideology and reconstructing it as the organisation of promoting universal welfare, socioeconomic justice and democracy. These must be included within the central values of social work practices, education and research. Success in counteracting symbolic violence and governmentalisation and in creating new solidary and equality discourses will lead to the creation of a critical democratic mass, one that liberates itself from the boundaries of racial capitalism and its neoliberal system. Such democratic states will realise the history-long desire of human beings for justice, equity, freedom and peaceful existence. This is an urgent revolutionary transformation, in which social workers must be an active part.

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Garrett, P. M. (2021). ‘‘A world to win’: in defence of (dissenting) social work—a response to chris maylea’, The British journal of social work, 51(4), pp. 1131–1149. Ginsberg B. (2011). The Fall of the Faculty: The Rise of the All‐Administrative University and Why It Matters. Oxford: Oxford University Press. Giroux, H. A. (2007). The university in chains: confronting the military-industrial-academic complex. Boulder, CO: Paradigm Publishers. Gramsci, A. (1992). Selections from the prison notebooks. NY: International publishers. Gutiérrez Rodríguez, E. (2016). ‘Sensing dispossession: women and gender studies between institutional racism and migration control policies in the neoliberal university’, Women’s Studies International Forum, 54, pp. 167–177. Kamali, M. (1997). Distorted integration: clientisation of immigrants in Sweden. Uppsala: Uppsala University Press. Kamali, M. (2015). War, violence and social justice: theories for social work. London: Routledge. Kamali, M., and Jönsson J. H. (2019). ‘Revolutionary social work: promoting sustainable justice’, Critical and Radical Social Work, 7(3), pp. 293–314. Kamali, M., and Jönsson, J. H. (2018). Neoliberalism, nordic welfare states and social work: current and future challenges. London: Routledge. Kamali, M. (2021). Neoliberal Securitisation and Symbolic Violence: Silencing political, academic and societal resistance. Cham: Palgrave Macmillan. Lauri, M., and Jönsson, J. H. (2021). ‘Rustad för morgondagen? Kritiska och radikala perspektiv i den svenska socionomutbildningens styrdokument’, Socialvetenskaplig tidskrift, 27(3-4), pp. 269–290. Luxemburg, R. (1970). Reform or revolution. New York: Pathfinder Press, INC. Maylea, C. (2020). ‘The end of social work’, The British Journal of Social Work, 51(2), pp. 772–778. Morley, C. (2016). ‘Promoting activism through critical social work education: the impact of global capitalism and neoliberalism on social work and social work education’, Critical and Radical Social Work, 4(1), pp. 39–57. Rose, N., and Miller, P. (2010). ‘Political power beyond the State: problematics of government’. The British Journal of Sociology, 61(1), pp. 271–303. Schram, S. F., and Silverman, B. (2012). ‘The end of social work: neoliberalizing social policy implementation’, Critical Policy Studies, 6(2), pp. 128–145. Silva, P. G. (2018). ‘Social workers in the revolution: social work’s political agency and intervention in the Portuguese democratic transition (1974–1976)’, International Social Work, 61(3), pp. 425–436.

Index

academic freedom 22, 54 activism 40, 62, 67–68, 84, 93–96, 99–100, 104, 108, 111, 124, 129, 131, 133, 140, 144, 161, 166, 188 Afrocentrism 99 anti-austerity 17, 20, 130, 134, 144, 156, 188 anti-racist movement 129, 134, 137–138, 140 apartheid 24–25, 86–87, 89–90, 93–95, 98, 100–102, 105–106, 180, 190 Arendt, Hanna 23, 38, 180 austerity 17, 20, 33, 41–42, 45, 59, 92, 97, 129–130, 132–134, 143–144, 156, 164, 180, 183, 188 authoritarianism 2, 38, 42, 49, 63, 103, 108, 123, 156, 181 banality of evil 38 Benjamin, Walter 31–32, 45, 179 Black Lives Matter 69, 96, 98, 188 Black panther party 175 Bourdieu, Pierre 13, 72, 75–76, 79, 87, 91, 95, 186–187, 190 business as usual 51

55, 62, 89–90, 95, 98, 100–101, 103–104, 134, 147, 165, 180, 183, 185–187, 189, 191 coloniality 24, 86–88, 98 coloniality of power 89 colonisation 1–2, 9, 22–23, 29, 67, 104, 183, 190 common sense 14, 87, 167, 182, 190 compliance 13–14, 36, 38, 179–181 conservative revolution 27, 65, 191 contestation 27–28, 35–36, 39, 44, 48, 53, 94, 97, 103, 111, 141, 177, 179–180 Coronavirus crisis 20, 26 counter-hegemonic struggle 93 Covid-19 pandemic 26, 32, 46, 64, 96, 128, 132, 164 creating anger 75 critical consciousness 54 critical pedagogy 53, 61–62, 65–67, 97 critical social work 26, 58, 62–63, 66–67, 104, 126, 192 critical thinking 54, 156 culture of conformity 54 curriculum of social work education 22, 96, 176, 186

charity 37, 45, 49, 90, 148, 150, 152–153 civil activists 188 classism 179 climate activism 99–100 climate change 32, 44, 46, 51–52, 99–100, 128, 134 climate justice 44, 52 collective action 25, 129, 139–141 collectivising the anger 79 collusion 36, 38–39, 179–180 colonial discourses 2, 5, 189 colonial knowledge 186–187 colonialism 1–5, 15, 18, 21, 23, 29, 37, 50,

decoloniality 96, 98–100, 104 decolonisation of knowledge 186 deconstruction 53, 166, 172, 174 defending anger 78 deideologising 174 democratic university 48, 57, 64 demonisation 16, 19 depoliticisation 22, 25, 38, 50, 55, 62, 180 depoliticising social work 180 deprofessionalisation of social work 107 disciplination 6–7, 9, 13, 19–20, 29, 62, 69, 105 domination 2–4, 6–7, 13–14, 16–17, 26,

194

Index

29, 35, 41, 50, 53, 56–59, 62–63, 70–71, 74–76, 78–79, 82, 86–88, 90, 93, 100, 102, 111, 117, 131, 133, 135, 139, 142, 146, 151, 154, 159, 164, 166–175, 182, 186, 190–191 Durkheim, Emile 1, 181 ecological crisis 24, 31–32, 87 economic crisis 19–20, 33, 144 ecosystemic destruction 100 emotions 24, 37, 69–71, 73, 77, 79–82, 97, 110, 134 empowerment 21, 34, 86, 137, 157, 175 environmental injustice 166 epistemic injustice 24, 70, 75, 77, 80–81 eurocentrism 88 exercising power 6, 13, 182 false consciousness 14, 187 fascism 24–25, 48, 129, 132, 135, 137, 142 feminist collectives 99–100 Feminist Table 99 Fortress Europe 135–136, 138 fossil fuel capitalism 32 Foucault, Michel 6–7, 12, 14, 81, 88, 100, 146 Freire, Paulo 40, 53, 93, 95, 99, 166, 169–170, 172 gender inequality 40 gender-based violence 97 global alliances 188 global ethics of social work 16 globalisation 1–3, 8–9, 11, 15, 18, 46, 187 globalisation of capitalism 1, 3 The governance of the self 14 governmentalisation 7, 12–16, 21–22, 186–187, 191 Gramsci, Antonio 14, 166, 190, 192 Hall, Stuart 8, 15, 173–174 health care 4, 14, 26, 97, 131–132, 142, 149, 159, 164, 166, 176 hegemony 11, 14, 63, 87–88, 92–93, 98, 100, 141, 156, 168, 181–182, 190 housing 52, 138–139, 148–149, 153, 159, 165, 173, 175 imperialism 4, 18, 23, 46, 134, 146, 165, 186 imperialist rivalry 34, 179 individualisation 41, 184 infrapolitics 107, 112, 114, 116

institutional violence 109, 117 interstitial strategies 48, 54, 56–57, 59, 61, 63 Iranian revolution 25, 146, 159, 185, 190 justice 9, 16–17, 22–25, 34–35, 44, 52–54, 62, 70–71, 74, 82, 86, 88, 90–91, 94, 96–100, 107, 109–110, 117, 123, 129, 140–141, 146–147, 150, 153, 156, 158–161, 166–167, 169, 171, 175, 183–185, 191 mainstream narratives 173–174 marginalised groups 12–13, 15–16, 22, 55–56, 75, 77, 150–151, 156, 158, 182 market logic 12, 183 marketisation 1, 4, 12, 14, 58, 92, 147, 149, 153, 159, 180 Marx, Karl 14, 32, 49, 58, 88 micro-resistance 113, 116 militarisation 11, 95, 189 mobilisation 21, 23, 44, 49, 52, 58, 94, 96–98, 100, 113, 118, 151, 156–158, 160–161, 185 modernity 1–4, 6–7, 13–14, 49, 147–148, 159, 181–182, 186 nation states 6, 9, 14–15, 190 neoliberal capitalism 17, 24, 32, 45, 48, 53, 132, 142, 188 neoliberal colonization 22–23 neoliberal ideology 11, 154, 157, 182–183, 188, 191 neoliberalisation 8, 10, 12, 15–16, 19, 22–23, 25, 92, 146–148, 151, 180–182, 185–186, 189 New Public Management 8, 41 police violence 2, 16, 25, 44, 95, 110, 114, 119–120, 135, 137, 157 political crisis 33, 107 politicised anger 69 post-apartheid 24, 89, 93, 101–102, 105 postcolonialism 3–4, 18, 26, 103, 185 poverty alleviation 97, 147, 152 prisonfare 9, 30 privatization 8, 20, 53, 61, 89, 107, 147–149, 153, 159–160 profession of social work 2–3, 7, 181, 183 professional resistance 25, 107–108, 111–113, 115–116, 119 professionalisation of social work 1, 6, 107, 183, 185

Index punishing resistance 17–18, 82 racial capitalism 18–19, 21, 23, 26, 165–166, 185–186, 188–190 racialisation 2–3, 5–6, 12, 14–18, 88, 90, 100 racist parties 3, 12, 179, 182–183 radicalisation 16, 55, 93, 188, 190 refugees 34, 40–41, 43, 128–129, 134–142, 152, 183, 189 revolutionary consciousness 48, 53–54, 62–63 revolutionary social work 87, 89, 93–94, 129, 131, 141, 159–161, 176, 185–186 revolutionary transformation 24, 53, 55, 82, 191 reward and punishment 14, 87, 182 right-wing populism 3, 8, 24, 33, 48, 52–53, 65–66, 73, 179 ruptural strategies 32, 48–49, 53, 56–61, 63 securitisation 10–11, 14–16, 28–29, 84, 158, 179, 183, 185, 188 settler colonialism 2, 5, 27, 90, 165, 183, 191 small wars 3, 10, 189 social movements 33, 40–42, 45, 50, 93–94, 97–98, 101, 109–110, 116, 122, 129, 132–134, 137, 166, 188 social policy 4, 6, 10, 17, 35, 69, 130, 139, 148, 153, 180–182, 187–188 social problems 15, 22–23, 25, 35, 55, 88, 141, 149, 153–155, 157–158, 180, 184–185, 187, 189 The social question 4, 6, 183 social revolt 111, 119 Social Work Action Network (SWAN) 42–43, 47, 96, 98, 100, 131, 133, 138, 140 Social Work Action Network International (SWANI) 43–44, 105, 176, 188

195

soft means of violence 1, 12–13, 19 solidarity 1, 3–4, 7, 21, 24, 45, 56–57, 78, 92–99, 108, 112–113, 116, 129–134, 136–141, 150, 156–158, 160–161, 167, 176 solidarity clinics 129 structural inequalities 21, 52 surveillance 6, 20, 22–23, 41, 51–52, 85, 148, 185–188 surveillance state 186–188 symbiotic strategies 48, 53, 56–59, 61 symbolic power 83, 95 symbolic violence 12–14, 16–17, 19, 24, 70, 75, 80–82, 87–88, 91, 180, 182, 187, 190–191 technicism 22, 55, 88 The 18-O movement 107, 113, 120, 122–123, 185, 188 theory-less social work 184 threat of war 18 toxic disasters 190 transitional anger 73–74 troubled families 15 Ubuntu 92–93 United Front 43–44 universities in chain 181 unthinking bureaucrats 38 war on terror 10, 12, 14–15, 183 The Washington consensus 19 wealth inequality 50, 165 Weber, Max 13 welfare nationalism 9 welfare policies 21, 148, 152, 154–155, 184 welfare regimes 4–5, 8, 19 white supremacy 87, 175 Whiteness 2, 15–16, 18, 23–24, 72, 86–87, 90–92, 164–165, 173, 175