This book (which I read for comps) feels like it wanders into many places, and it is the sort of writing style that I often enjoy reading, but am attempting to avoid in my own writing. It juxtaposes many things together, which I have a bad habit of doing, and can sometimes be hard to follow the arguments of this text all the way through.
It touches on many themes of interest to me, hydraulics and water, energy, agricultural chemistry, warfare, imperialism, ecological relations — all through the lens of political economy, Marxist theory (accompanied by Ricardo commentary), environmental history, colonial history (and its influence on the economic theories of Keynes) and the history of science and technology. And it does so by tracing these themes through the history of Egypt.
The first chapter is often included in STS and environmental history syllabi. It is entitled “Can the Mosquito Speak?” I wrote a short excerpt on it for my comps writeup. After discussing Keith Pluymers’ chapter (in the book No Wood, No Kingdom) on the rapid deforestation of Barbados through enslaved labour for the establishment of British colonial sugar plantations and his discussion of Anna Tsing’s alternative nomenclature of the Plantationocene, I wrote this little paragraph on Mitchell’s chapter:
“Sugar plantations also importantly feature in the story Timothy Mitchell (2002) tells of the mosquito’s arrival in Egypt. While transportation technologies and advancing war frontiers brought the mosquito to Egypt, it was the modernizing water infrastructure of dams and canals that enabled the mosquito’s rapid reproduction. The construction of the Aswan High Dam also kept back highly fertile river sediment from reaching downstream agricultural plots, which were soon transformed into ever expanding sugar plantations that could afford expensive new fertilizer inputs. At one of the country’s largest sugar estates, in just the second year of the new malaria epidemic, some 80-90% of the workers had contracted the disease and were too weak to harvest sugarcane. While the logics of the plantation share similarities with the logics of modern dam infrastructure and industrialization, Mitchell argues there is no singular logic undergirding it all. Theories of a unified logic give capitalism’s irrationality and its attendant violence more credit than its due.”
The irrationality and lack of coherent logic of capitalism is a consistent theme in Mitchell’s book, which I do not think I completely agree with, because I think the point of Marx’s Capital is trying to understand how capitalism works in order to figure out what to do about it.
There are snippets of Egyptian revolutionary history in some of the chapters. I wanted to include a few excerpts:
“Orders reached local officials to make a levy of camels to support the continued occupation of the Sudan; to begin work immediately on improved flood defenses at Jirja, requiring 1,085,000 hundred weight of stone; and to provide another fifty thousand men as forced laborers on the Ibrahimiyya Canal. “The system of wholesale extortion and spoilation has reached a point beyond which it would be difficult to go,” wrote a European resident. “Egypt is one vast ‘plantation’ where the master works his slaves without even feeding them.”38 A month later an armed uprising broke out, beginning in the village of Qaw, near Jirja, and four neighboring villages, but reaching as far as Asyut forty kilometers to the north.39 The revolt was led by Ahmad al-Shaqi, known as al-Tayyib, the Good, native of the village of Salamiyya, near Luxor, and said to be the disciple of an anticolonial religious militant from India who had escaped abroad after the defeat of the 1857–58 revolt and spent several years near Asyut.”
“Local reports agreed that although religious appeals pro- vided al-Tayyib’s legitimation, his object was the new land regime. “He is a mad fanatic and a communist,” a European resident in the area was told. “He wants to divide all property equally and to kill all the Ulema.””
“Salah al-Din Husain, a villager from Kamshish who had been seized and then released again in the military-ordered arrest of thousands of political activists in the summer of 1965,49 was one of those co-opted by the mobilization program onto the new ASU committee in his village. He used this position to renew an old campaign from the 1950s against the political power of the landowning family that dominated the village. The government’s response was to have Salah Husain immediately placed under surveillance. Investigators discovered that he was the leader of a group of “communists” in his village, who were holding meetings among the peasants at which they “exploited the hatred of the village inhabitants” toward the large landowners and called for “the collectivization of agriculture and the abolition of private property.” Two party officials were sent to Kamshish, a surveillance report mentions, to hold a public meeting at which they explained the government’s idea of socialism. But Salah Husain “insisted after the conclusion of the discussion in telling the peasants that our socialism is influenced by Marxist thought.” He was creating “dangerous divisions” among party members in the village, the report concludes, and was causing a threat to the country’s “internal security.”50 It was such local threats rather than any process of development, as Harik and others would have it, that ex- plains the central government’s initiatives.”
Chapter 6 of this book, entitled “Heritage and Violence” made for some very interesting commentary on public history, which would have also been useful for further reflection during comps, though it never came up during my exam. There was a fascinating section on the architect Hassan Fathy and his connection to “appropriate technology” and how his model village project of New Gurna, elaborating on his conception of vernacular architectural styles. This story is entangled with coercive displacement of local residents funded by USAID projects as well as the development of the Aswan Dam (Fathy’s brother was an engineer involved in its development). I will just finish with a large excerpt from this chapter, which I found so fascinating:
“By the end of the 1960s, two decades after the building of New Gurna, the government had taken the place of large landowners in deciding what to grow and had constructed a second dam at Aswan. The High Dam ended the annual flooding of the Nile and enabled the authorities to extend the cultivation of sugarcane, which displaced the growing of wheat. Villagers no longer had the long weeks of the Nile flood, which in the past provided time for the laborious work of brick making and communal house building. Many no longer had their own wheat to provide the straw needed for bricks and plaster. For both these reasons, building with mud brick began to lose its advantages over the faster method of building with reinforced concrete.
Thanks to the dam, moreover, even the mud itself was less and less available. The fields were no longer flooded, there was no longer an annual deposit of Nile silt, and no longer any renewal of the alluvial mud out of which mud-brick houses were built. Before the High Dam, the Nile carried some 124 million tons of sediment to the sea each year, depositing nearly ten million tons on the flood plain. After the dam, 98 percent of that sediment remained behind the dam.49 By the 1980s the government was forced to ban the use of alluvial mud for brick making, to protect agricultural land. Fathy’s celebration of a vernacular based on centuries of accumulation of local mud was launched at precisely the moment when (and for reasons connected with the fact that) the mud for the first time in history was no longer in supply.
If the irrigation works at Aswan caused mud-brick building to gradually disappear, ironically they had also played an unnoticed role in Fathy’s production of an Egyptian vernacular. Gharb Aswan, the village in which Fathy discovered an Egyptian architecture “preserved for centuries,” was in fact a modern village. It was built at the turn of the century to house people from the Nubian villages to the south, which were submerged by the reservoir created by the first Aswan Dam.50 The dam had given Fathy the opportunity to build his vernacular village, by creating first the estates and then the epidemics that brought the politics of rural reconstruction into being. These irrigation works had simultaneously destroyed the country of Nubia, whose rebuilt houses were the inspiration for his Egyptian vernacular. The nation, and its heritage, must be made out of the material lives of others. In doing so, however, it incorporates processes and materials whose use and meaning it does not entirely control.
Fifty years later the government was still trying to evict the population of old Gurna, and still describing them as lawless and unhygienic. To the old arguments about tomb robbing, official statements in the 1990s now added the claim that their “living conditions are poor, unhygienic, and spoil the view,” and that the presence of this large population in what was now recognized by UNESCO as a World Heritage Site prevented its archaeological preservation and its development as an “open air museum.”
The issues were still those of heritage and civilization. But by the close of the twentieth century, Hassan Fathy’s vision of a national culture in- spired by the revival of peasant initiative and know-how had disappeared, along with most of the houses of his model village. Instead the government planned an open-air museum, in which the role of the peasant, as we will see, was rather smaller. The development plans of the 1980s and 1990s are discussed more fully in the final section of this book. But the plans for the development of tourism and national heritage in Gurna can provide an introduction to these issues, as well as a contrast with the peasant politics of an earlier period.
In 1982 the World Bank hired the U.S. consulting firm Arthur D. Little to draw up a program for increasing tourism revenue in Luxor (the same firm had been hired to do a similar study in 1953).52 The consultants re- vived the proposal for the depopulation of Gurna, along with Hassan Fathy’s scheme to set up a cooperative to improve the quality of locally made souvenirs. With the local population removed, the increase in tourism revenue was to come from better “visitor management” and improved infrastructure to enable the development of luxury hotels and Nile cruise ships.”