Francesco Mazzucotelli
Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore (Catholic University of the Sacred Heart), Dipartimento di Scienze Politiche, Teaching Associate and Research Assistant
I am interested in, and work on a variety of topics related to Near/Middle Eastern Studies in the nineteenth and twentieth centuries.
In particular, I am attracted by the following domains of analysis and research:
1. Identity politics and the construction of ethnic, sectarian, and communal identities, loyalties and conflicts
2. The role of religion (particularly Islam) in the public sphere
3. Urban spaces and processes of political and social inclusion and exclusion, with a particular interest in forms and channels of contestation
I am interested in historical, anthropological, and sociological approaches.
In geographical terms, my interest is primarily related to Lebanon, Syria, and Turkey.
Supervisors: Valeria Fiorani Piacentini
Phone: +390272342733
Address: c/o Dipartimento di Scienze Politiche
Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore
Largo A. Gemelli, 1
I-20123 Milano
In particular, I am attracted by the following domains of analysis and research:
1. Identity politics and the construction of ethnic, sectarian, and communal identities, loyalties and conflicts
2. The role of religion (particularly Islam) in the public sphere
3. Urban spaces and processes of political and social inclusion and exclusion, with a particular interest in forms and channels of contestation
I am interested in historical, anthropological, and sociological approaches.
In geographical terms, my interest is primarily related to Lebanon, Syria, and Turkey.
Supervisors: Valeria Fiorani Piacentini
Phone: +390272342733
Address: c/o Dipartimento di Scienze Politiche
Università Cattolica del Sacro Cuore
Largo A. Gemelli, 1
I-20123 Milano
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Papers by Francesco Mazzucotelli
In this roundtable, Afacan introduces the history of emotions as a new field and discusses its potential as an «analytical tool» for studying different periods of Ottoman history. In doing so, she reflects on the possible risks of walking on the «slippery ground» of emotions, such as over-generalizations or confusing social norms with emotions. In the second contribution, Akpınar contextualizes the importance of environmental history in Ottoman studies and emphasizes the value of an «interconnected» conceptualization between state, society, and environmental factors in the study of Ottoman and Turkish modernization. Mazzucotelli then addresses the changes in the historiography of Ottoman rule in the Levant, showing how an interplay of Orientalism, Eurocentrism, nationalism, and views of Ottoman decline played a role in the region’s troubled political and social context. Next, Ozavcı clari- fies how to update our knowledge of one of the most important diplomatic issues of the nineteenth century, the Eastern Question. Topal, on the other hand, focuses on conceptual history as a method for approaching the Ottoman Tanzimat and modernization. Finally, Yenen’s paper zooms in on the historiography of the dissolution of the empire and discusses the challenge of methodological nationalism and the limitations of imperial vs. national policy conceptualizations.
In this roundtable, Afacan introduces the history of emotions as a new field and discusses its potential as an «analytical tool» for studying different periods of Ottoman history. In doing so, she reflects on the possible risks of walking on the «slippery ground» of emotions, such as over-generalizations or confusing social norms with emotions. In the second contribution, Akpınar contextualizes the importance of environmental history in Ottoman studies and emphasizes the value of an «interconnected» conceptualization between state, society, and environmental factors in the study of Ottoman and Turkish modernization. Mazzucotelli then addresses the changes in the historiography of Ottoman rule in the Levant, showing how an interplay of Orientalism, Eurocentrism, nationalism, and views of Ottoman decline played a role in the region’s troubled political and social context. Next, Ozavcı clari- fies how to update our knowledge of one of the most important diplomatic issues of the nineteenth century, the Eastern Question. Topal, on the other hand, focuses on conceptual history as a method for approaching the Ottoman Tanzimat and modernization. Finally, Yenen’s paper zooms in on the historiography of the dissolution of the empire and discusses the challenge of methodological nationalism and the limitations of imperial vs. national policy conceptualizations.
Beyond its metropolitan allure, its effervescent cultural scene, and its glitzy social life, Beirut has been deeply affected by increasingly sharp cleavages during the course of the twentieth century, paving the way for a cityscape of neighborhoods characterized by strong sectarian and social connotations. The urban geography of Beirut has been studied mainly in relation to its critical areas, be they the “Green Line” that emerged during the civil war (1975—1990) and its morphogenesis [Møystad 1998], or the recurrent animosity that existed before the war between the mainly Muslim, working-class neighborhood of Bashura and the almost entirely Christian neighborhood of Gemmayze [Kassir 2003], or the southern fringe of the metropolitan area, often simplistically stigmatized as a “Hezbollah stronghold” [Deeb 2006]. Much attention has been also directed at the post-war reconstruction of the city’s central district [Khalaf and Khoury 1993], predicated on a rampant neo-liberal, business-friendly orientation that has turned Beirut’s downtown into “an enclave of luxury” and a “trompe-l’oeil” [Kassir 2003].
Comparatively little has been written about the few spaces of the city that have escaped a process of sectarian homogenization in the aftermath of the conflict [Davie 1994]. Spanning across the vast campus of the American University in the western sector of the city, the neighborhood of Hamra gained fame since the 1960s as a commercial hub, a center of intellectual activity with theaters, cafés and newspapers, and as a hotspot of political activism, as well as a bustling space of nightlife, not rarely charged with overtones of sexual promiscuity [Kassir 2003].
Since the end of the civil war, Hamra (which literally means “the red”, something that has created many puns on its left-leaning political orientation) has emerged once again as a spectacle and a condensation of Lebanon’s flagrant contradictions, yet retaining an aura of relative liberty. To Westerners and the Westernized Lebanese, Hamra remains one of the few accessible pockets where it is possible to escape from the often oppressive atmosphere of confessional demarcation, and lead an alternative lifestyle through its alternative scene, made up by art galleries, theaters, cafés, associations, gay bars [Burkhalter 2007; Zaccak 2007].
At a closer look, however, Hamra appears also a fiercely contested space that is increasingly pressured by two different sides.
On the one hand, the neoliberal urban planning (or lack thereof) that informs Beirut’s development goes hand-in-hand with overinvestment and plain speculation in the real estate sector. Year after year, the few remnants of the city’s heritage (including Ottoman, colonial, and 1940s modernist mansions) are erased to make space for anonymous high-rise buildings, while the few remaining public spaces are increasingly sanitized, gentrified, or engulfed by profit-generating establishments.
On the other hand, political parties and formations (including in particular the Syrian Social National Party and the Lebanese Communist Party) are increasingly vying for the physical control of the neighborhood, with many or their members doubling as “security” or bouncers, or stationing at the intersection of the principal roads.
Mapping the spaces of socialization and entertainment in Hamra to us means therefore mapping the spaces of political and cultural hegemony of the different political actors of this neighborhood. Political groups, in fact, extend their “militian space” [Davie 1993] from their respective headquarters to “controlled” buildings, bars, cafés, small-sized commercial outlets.
Based on interviews and participant observation, the paper intends to describe the main political and social actors, their competing agendas, and their short- and long-term aspirations and tactics. Through a map of the spatial distribution of the different actors, we intend to investigate in what ways their presence makes itself felt, and how it is perceived by the public.
In a cultural context where the concepts of gharīb (“foreigner”, in a pejorative sense) and dakhīl (“outsider”, often in the sense of “intruder”) play a huge role in narratives and perceptions [Douayhi 1999], how is the presence of affluent tourists (both from Gulf countries and the West), elite students from nearby American University (AUB) and Lebanese American University (LAU), and lately of Syrian bourgeois émigrés (or refugees) perceived in the neighborhood?
The paper tells the story of a neighborhood in continuous transition, a lively melting pot that nevertheless is not able to conceal the double pressure of gentrification, on the one hand, and pervasive attempts of political and ideological control, on the other hand.
All of them were selected for the position of "mutasarrif" (governor-general) of the autonomous province of Mount Lebanon, under the procedures stipulated by the Règlement Organique of 1861. Their personal stories are no Orientalist tales of Romantic adventurers casually ended up in exotic lands, but testify to a consistent policy of the Porte regarding the "Cebel-i Lübnan meselesi", or the thorny issue of Mount Lebanon and its endemic strife.
The three governors, in their position as Ottoman officials with European formation and Catholic religious allegiance, tried to implement a center-driven policy of administrative modernization, which was partly at odds with the largely autonomous, sectarian-based system created by the Règlement Organique. In particular, the governors often suffered from stranded relations with the local Administrative Council, which had a say in fiscal affairs and the management of provincial budget, thus being able to intervene in matters such as public order and roadworks (Akarlı 1993).
Two competing notions of modernity appear: one based on a notion of centralized administrative homogeneization, largely in line with the spirit of the Tanzimat; the other stressing the specificity of the periphery, even at the price of the substitution of traditional feudal allegiances with controversial sectarian communal identities, later entrenched in what will evolve as the Lebanese confessionalist system (Rabbath 1986).
The paper plans to highlight how the mutasarrifs, in their dual standing as Ottoman officials and Catholics, tried more or less successfully to negotiate different agendas, and how they were viewed at by both parts as possible mediators.
Ottoman stance (Kaufman 2004).
The decadence and brutality of Ottoman domination was lyrically juxtaposed to the birth of a new nation, often described in vague and idealistic terms, or through competing national and historiographical projects (Firro 2003).
However, this paper intends to show how the situation on the ground was way less clear-cut.
On the one hand, there were pro-Ottoman stances, or only very mild and tepid expressions of opposition, quite often as a result of the complex pattern of relations between families of traditional landlords and the emerging bourgeoisie (Chalabi 2006).
On the other hand, many political actors appear as mostly interested in increasing their leverage through a skillful mix of cooperation and opposition to the Ottoman rule.
The very system of local government set in place by the Organic Law of 1861 in Ottoman Lebanon was anything but assessable on clear-cut terms. The Ottoman government, particularly after the advent of the CUP in 1908, advocates a notion of centralized
administrative modernization and homogenization (Akarlı 1993). Conversely, local élites (sometimes at odds with each other as much as with, if not more than, the Ottoman Empire) try to increase their share of power, the specificity of the periphery, even at the price of the substitution of traditional feudal allegiances with controversial sectarian communal identities, later entrenched in what will evolve as the Lebanese confessionalist system.
This paper intends to underline how the narrative of the WWI years was constructed and idealized as a defining moment of nation building, while, as a matter of fact, the institutional framework and political culture inherited by the period of Ottoman administration under the Organic Law was fundamentally unchanged in its basics, as it catered to the interests of the political and social élites of that time. Eventually, while war years are portrayed as the birth of
a nation, one can assume a substantial continuity between the “long peace” (Akarlı 1993) of the Organic Law period with its legacy during the French Mandate (1920-1943).
As they emerge from contexts that are socially and economically marginalized, these groups want to smash social stigma and stereotypical images of backwardness and lawlessness that are associated with their context of origin. Reclaiming slurs and derogatory terms, or the intentionally praise of being an outlaw are also part of this counter-hegemonic narrative.
In their defiance of authority and prevailing views of what it means to be “modern” and “proper”, these groups do not shy away from class strife issues, corruption in public administration and the private sector, the shortcomings of justice, unemployment, or the challenges of life in Palestinian refugee camps or in rural areas of Lebanon that are depicted as far from idyllic.
Drawing from the existing, extensive literature that focuses on hip hop as a subculture of contestation and opposition to mainstream culture and/or the existing political system, this paper intends to
investigate in which ways hip hop songs are deployed and portrayed as vectors of political and social awareness, mobilization, and activism in the Lebanese context.
This paper will also question what it means, and what it takes to express oneself through hip hop in Lebanon’s highly politicized and highly volatile context.
Studies have already been devoted to the participation of women in public ritual performances connected to the commemoration of Karbalā’ (Aghaie 2005), and the reinterpretation of the role of Zaynab in those events has been a subject of controversy and analysis (Deeb 2006). The clerical readings analyzed in this paper go one step further, projecting Zaynab as an example and a reference.
Rich, dense, context-related language and symbolism are involved in the reinvention of Zaynab as the paradigm of a woman that embodies the “culture of resistance and dissent” against “tyranny”, a concept that can be overstretched to include quite any form of occupation or government deemed illegitimate. In one of the essays, this metanarrative of resistance provides religious justification to the involvement of women in militant activities, including the support of combat activities and armed resistance.
Interestingly, this perspective is echoed by some women depicting Zaynab as champion of a personal, collective and gendered revolt against “submission” (al-qahr). The discourse of these women is firmly framed in an Islamic notion of social relations and gender roles, or at least in their view of what an Islamic set of social and gender relations should be like.
The paper intends to emphasize how the essays under scrutiny deconstruct and defy in their own way both notions of radical Islamic narrative as alien to any discourse of gender empowerment and notions of “Western”-based feminist discourse."