Welcoming radicalized people to cultural venues

Do cultural venues filter their audiences, consciously or unconsciously, according to criteria of radicalism? This question reveals our contradictions about violence and extremism. Proposals for exercising democracy.

What is a radicalized person?

A question immediately arises: what exactly do we mean by “radicalized persons”?

Let us consider some examples. Are people who vote for the far right radicalized? What about those who vote for the far left? And those who go to church every Sunday? It might be more accurate to distinguish between radicalization and violent radicalization. But what exactly is violence? Physical violence immediately comes to mind.

Yet many people considered non-radicalized exercise physical violence on others. Think of parents who physically punish their children – they are not therefore labeled as radicalized. Consider bosses who humiliate their employees, or bankers who freeze the accounts of people in need over a modest overdraft. It is clear that violence and radicalization constitute two distinct realities.

Are we then seeking to exclude from cultural venues those whose violence stems from their radicalism? Reading Monique Pinçon-Charlot and her concept of “violence of the rich,” we understand that any wealthy person could be considered radicalized and violent, their wealth constituting in itself a form of extreme social violence. We should therefore be more specific and speak of direct violent radicalization: acts of physical violence, beatings, murders, incitement to hatred...

But when a left-wing person states “we must fight against the far right,” encompassing ideas, political leaders, activists and voters, is this not hate speech, an incitement to violence? This formulation differs radically from “we must fight for democracy,” which constitutes an inclusive discourse. Violent radicalization certainly maintains links with extremism. However, the concept of “extreme center” developed by historian Pierre Serna invites us to take a new look at the elites in power who present themselves as moderate and centrist: their radical extremism hides under a velvet glove.

This velvet, moreover, is not always present. One need only observe the repression of the Yellow Vest movement or the management of the Covid crisis, marked by violence, stigmatization, scapegoating, humiliation and public shaming, all in the name of order or public health. These practices are part of a discourse of war and are accompanied by exceptional measures to the democratic regime, legally justified by this warlike rhetoric. We are indeed dealing with violent, institutional radicalism, masked by hypocrisy and integrated in a totalitarian way by most citizens as “normality.”

At the end of this overview of various forms of radicalism, one conclusion emerges: each of us, consciously or not, manifests a form of radicalism and violence. If cultural venues were to welcome only perfectly benevolent people, they would have to close their doors to everyone, except perhaps to very young children who have not yet been influenced by the dominating cultures in which we are immersed.

Reinvesting the institution with its democratic role

Let us emphasize the idea that cultural venues have a fundamentally democratic mission: their role is to offer unconditional welcome, to respect everyone’s culture and ideas. When people feel that their culture, whether perceived as radical or not depending on the lens adopted, is neither stigmatized nor reduced to an enemy position (enemy of whom, of what anyway? Conflicts are defined according to multiple perspectives), they can truly open up.

These cultural spaces exist precisely to share what we have in common as human beings, despite our deep dissensions and fundamental disagreements. We are all citizens, we all contribute through our taxes to the funding of these institutions, they belong to all of us.

For a culture of democratic welcome

Cultural venues, funded by public money, must embody democratic exemplarity. They must be inclusive to the highest degree, respectful of all differences, even those that disturb us. It is on this condition that art and culture can once again become living spaces, not places where a single thought is imposed, even if it is well-meaning and convinced of its universal superiority.

This claim to universality recalls the old well-meaning colonial demon, whose human and social ravages we see every day. On the contrary, it is about creating safe spaces where everyone knows they will be neither judged nor stigmatized for who they are or for their political choices, but welcomed in places dedicated to sharing the sensible. For the sensible, regardless of our ideas, our cultures or our supposed radicalities, constitutes our common heritage as human beings.

This vision calls for a refoundation of cultural policies, of artist training and of the political positioning, in the democratic sense, of artistic approaches. It concerns both the modalities of public participation and our capacity for openness to others. An authentic openness, and not a thought that claims to be superior and more universalist than others.

This claim to universality is an illusion, we know it well, even if the West persists in believing that it holds the best way of thinking about the world and that it philosophically surpasses all other cultures. This is a profound error. So let us open the doors, broaden our perspectives, develop sensitivities, multiply projects and postures to cultivate a democracy where pluralities can truly express themselves.

Perhaps then these places of culture, the word takes on its full meaning, will become fertile grounds where new spaces of encounter will germinate, creating bonds and mutual enrichments to, who knows, contribute to the foundations for a better world.