What Goes Without Saying: Symbolic Violence and Inequality in Pakistan
A SCENE. THREE SCENES, ACTUALLY. Picture a village in rural Sindh, a hari —a sharecropper—bows his head before the wadera , the landlord. No one asked him to. There’s no gun to his head. There are no shackles on his wrists. Now, shift the scene. Imagine a posh drawing room in Lahore. A family patriarch speaks. Everyone else falls silent. They aren't afraid of being hit; they just "know" that his opinion carries more weight. They seat themselves according to an unwritten hierarchy. Finally, think of a classroom in Khyber Pakhtunkhwa. A young girl is told her ultimate destiny is to be a "good wife." She doesn't argue. She isn’t lacking intelligence; she’s just been convinced, through every fiber of her upbringing, that this is the "natural" order of things. Three scenes. No guns. No courts. No police. And yet — in each — power is being exercised perfectly. This is what Pierre Bourdieu called symbolic violence: the most elegant, the ...