No abstract

The emergence of a systematic campaign of horrific violence directed at women and girls in the Mexican border city of Ciudad Juarez has become a focus of intense media and activist attention over the last two decades. While the mainstream media devoted much attention to ravaged bodies and sensational theories, state officials reacted to the crimes with a victim-blaming narrative that, activists have argued, provided a lethal accelerant to the violence. This paper explores the role of documentary film in the investigation and politicization of the murders and disappearances of women in Juarez. Along with activists and journalists, critical documentary filmmakers have been among the primary investigators of the crimes. In this paper, I argue that these grassroots media practices have been instrumental in opening spaces of communication that have been enclosed by pervasive fear and systemic insecurity. I pay specific attention to the ways in which Lourdes Portillo’s 2001 documentary Señorita Extraviada interrogates the crimes politically. Through its critical, engaged approach to the aesthetics and politics of evidence, I argue, the film poses a counter-narrative to the neoliberal state’s discourse of responsibilization and individualization in a context of systemic insecurity.

Arguing for social movement-based critiques of public surveillance, this article proposes an alternative approach to the established parameters of research on the contemporary surveillance society. As cities become increasingly organized around a logic of insecurity and fear, there has been an eruption of concern and debate about the expansion of urban public surveillance. But most of the research on this subject has paid little attention to the deliberate, collective forms of political critique raised by anti-surveillance activism. Rather, the predominant focus has been on concerns about privacy rights, civil liberties, and the dilemmas of balancing freedom with security. Moreover, the prevailing critical narrative contends that the radical expansion of surveillance has been largely met with consent from the public. Moving beyond such a discourse of consent, this article examines two examples of cultural interventions that seek to contest the growth of public surveillance, not as a problem limited to the violation of privacy rights but as a process that signifies the metastasizing weaponization of everyday life and the authoritarian circulation of fear. I suggest that the significance of contemporary anti-surveillance activism is found in its embeddedness in broader struggles rather than in the opposition to surveillance as an autonomous political aim.

From Tahrir Square and Puerta del Sol to Zuccotti Park and Taksim Square, the protest camps of 2011–2013 were a physical manifestation of a wide range of political objectives, including the extinguishment of autocratic regimes, the end of capitalism, and the abolishment of student loan debts. Yet their public re-creation, day after day, revealed a world of activity that is indispensable to the daily re-making of life itself but that is typically consigned to the backstage of political life. While the encampments are today remembered mostly for their evident failures, they remain significant for showing, in the most public way, that no politics is possible without that vital labour. In this material sense, they represented an important step toward the development and scaling up of modes of organizing that refuse to separate social reproduction from politics.

Fear is seen to be one of the defining political emotions of late modernity. Filmmakers, sociologists, artists, philosophers, and pundits see fear everywhere. If fear is a way of life, the contemporary city is seen by many to be one of its most prominent and productive social laboratories. But while fear is seen to be so politically significant, the way it is studied often both naturalizes and exteriorizes fear from politics. As a result, fear’s antagonistic status as both a social relation and an arena of political action is submerged. In this article, I propose a different approach to thinking about, and acting in, the city of fear. By taking social struggles as our starting point, the city of fear becomes recognizable as a platform for social action, a place for the elaboration of a theory and practice of social change, a staging ground for the reappropriation of the city.