Perhaps the worst suffering in Syria has been experienced in Ghouta, a suburb in Eastern Damascus that was under siege from the beginning of the war in 2012 until a cease-fire in April 2018. It has been continuously bombarded by the regime and is where several large-scale chemical weapon attacks have taken place. Government forces and the armed opposition controlled what went in and out and maintained exorbitantly high prices for food and necessities—the consequence was extreme deprivation and starvation. But Ghouta is also the site of a dairy factory, which supplies much of the dairy products consumed in Damascus. Because the rest of Damascus needs yogurt and other dairy products, the farmer has negotiated a deal with the regime, creating a small safe haven inside Ghouta. This is what we will refer to as the “yogurt run,” a tiny opening in the siege that allows Ghouta’s yogurt to reach places on both sides of the conflict.
We use the idea of the yogurt run as a metaphor to capture the presence of urban capabilities—the mutuality that underpins densely populated urban conurbations and that inherently provides a counter, however slight, to forcible fragmentation and closure, and to the dynamic of insecurity based on perpetual exclusions. A central argument in this book is that recognizing such urban capabilities—even where we can least expect them to be present—is one key to understanding cities facing war or profound insecurity. One important implication is a better understanding of how inhabitants can maximize whatever pertinent yogurt runs are present in their city. Conventional armies rarely see these capabilities embedded in urban space. Irregular combatants see and use them for their purposes, which do not always coincide with what residents might want. We want to use this notion of urban capabilities to detect embedded vectors that can lead to the diluting or unsettling of conflict in cities.
This is a book about insecurity in cities. Today, the most extreme form of such insecurity is war, and the most extreme form of war involves an often asymmetric combination of conventional forces and myriad irregular groups. Contemporary wars are increasingly urbanized, whether we are referring to full-fledged asymmetric wars, or to terrorist attacks in cities outside the war zones, or to violent organized crime.1 In the past, conventional forces preferred to fight battles in open fields, and irregular groups based themselves in remote areas such as jungles or mountains. Today, the urban built environment has become the equivalent of jungles and mountains—both as a way to hide and evade fighting and as a source of succor and support.
Contemporary wars involve forced displacement on a massive scale, swelling the conurbations where the majority of the world’s people now live. Newly arrived immigrants contribute to the vitality and creativity of the city, but they are also vulnerable to prejudice and frustration and the way in which traditions are reinvented, distorted, and instrumentalized in contemporary urban settings. Cities simultaneously nurture inclusive, cosmopolitan, and multicultural communities alongside old and new racisms; the politics of class based on growing income inequality and religious fundamentalisms; all of which leads to the active use of built environments to segregate, exclude, and worse. Today’s insecure cities are crisscrossed by borders and divisions, walls and checkpoints, ghettoization and expulsions, sieges and violent attacks.
Much of the literature on cities and war focuses on the militarization or securitization of cities.2 This book instead treats the city as a lens through which to understand contemporary violence as well as contemporary peace. We are interested in the granular character of contemporary insecurity and the ways in which the city itself in effect “talks back” (Sassen 2012). Wars are usually analyzed through the prism of the nation-state; yet, it is often pointed out that contemporary wars are global and regional as well (Kaldor 2012). Our case studies are empirical investigations of a variety of cities from the perspective of the inhabitants and, as such, shed new light on how to explain, interpret, and perceive twenty-first-century war without the blinkers of geopolitical preoccupations.
Our approach brings with it a recognition that women and children are also key actors in these wars—they are not just victims. Going beyond the notion of war as mere combat, we must recover the multiple ways in which women and children play a role. Capturing their participation is not easy. Guns and tanks are dominant factors in conflict zones, and men are still the dominant users of guns and tanks. Yet women often play major roles in these wars—with the Kurdish women fighters a powerful example. But any war requires sustaining the fighters.3 Gathering food is the most familiar factor. What is often neglected in this aspect of war situations is the fact that women are key actors in making connections with other groups—including enemy groups—to secure food.
War zones are much more than guns and tanks. Several works in the literature capture this expanded role of women, including girls, works that too often are overlooked as the focus remains on the guns and tanks. Also often overlooked is the fact that the search for food, water, and medications in each case is likely to require a capacity to negotiate with friends and with the enemy. Women engage in negotiations with all sorts of actors, including the enemy.
These concerns are in line with an emerging scholarship that focuses on the margins—people and conditions that are not at the center of the discourse, people who are overlooked or flattened into the poor, the victims of colonialisms of all sorts, and similar groups. Postcolonialism begins to function as a way to capture the complexities involved in the making of such subjects. For instance, Robert J. C. Young, one of the pioneers of the study of postcolonial literatures and their cultures, examined marginalized peoples and histories that were overlooked in the traditional analysis of cultures (Young 1995 and 2015). This brings to the fore a set of new questions and interrogations of our societal and cultural analyses (Sassen 2003).
We now have a vast scholarship examining how we might revise the forms of knowledge that circulate in the academy, how we can retrieve the histories of people and struggles that have disappeared and whom we failed even to notice existed.4 In this collection, the yogurt run represents a bit of those unrecorded histories.
We can think of the diverse forms of violence and the insecurities they generate in our case studies as signaling the existence of systemic edges deep inside a city. In fact, we might ask whether these types of urban conflicts are today’s frontier spaces: has the frontier shifted from the erstwhile edges of empire to the systemic edge deep inside cities? And as with the old imperial wars that generated a massive demand for armaments, today’s urban wars and insecurities are generating a self-reinforcing industry of security services that, more often than not, feeds more conflict and hence more insecurity.
In other words, this is a book about the rising power and importance of cities in relation to war and generalized insecurity—both as new sites of violence and division and as sites of resistance and of opportunity for the emergence of new norms and political arrangements, enabling the reconstruction of security.
The New Wars: Contemporary Urban Violence
We use the term new wars to include the full range of violent conflicts that find in cities one major site for their enactment.5 Today’s wars can be contrasted with the deep-rooted political contests of the past, whether we are talking about wars between the major powers or the classic civil wars between governments and rebels that took place mainly in the twentieth century. Rather, they are better described as a social condition or a culture (Kaldor 2018) or as an ecosystem (Kilcullen 2013). New wars involve both conventional forces and irregular combatants including militias, private security contractors, terrorists, paramilitary groups, warlords, and criminal gangs. These latter groups of combatants find in urban space a tool for war. The shadow effect of these wars extends well beyond the actual theater of war, as we can see in diverse terrorist attacks in cities often far from war zones.
But beyond this narrow meaning of war, there is a proliferation of forms of violence that find in cities a conducive environment. They include sectarian conflict, terrorism, acts of violent criminal gangs, genocide, ethnic cleansing, sexual violence, massive evictions of poor settlements to build office parks or gated communities, and other violations of human rights. Today’s urban conflicts are often a mixture of all of these.
So-called old wars—the wars of the modern period from the late eighteenth to the middle of the twentieth century (both interstate and civil wars)—largely took place in the countryside, at least in theory. Battles were fought in fields. In the nineteenth and early twentieth centuries, strategists and tacticians advised against fighting in cities. According to the U.S. Capstone urban warfare manual, “Tactical doctrine stresses that urban combat operations are conducted only when required and that built-up areas are isolated and bypassed rather than risking a costly, time-consuming operation in this difficult environment” (United States Department of the Army, 1979, 1). During the cold war, military planners anticipated fighting on the north German plains, not in cities. And the same was true, by and large, of the insurgencies taking place outside the main imagined theater. Insurgents hid in mountains and jungles, coming out sporadically to weaken and disorient the ruling regimes.
Of course, there were urban battles: the centers of power were located mostly in cities. It is estimated that 40 percent of operations in World War II took place in cities. Images of Berlin, Dresden, Stalingrad, Tokyo, and Hiroshima are etched into our consciousness of that war. But cities played a somewhat passive role: they were bombed or under siege; they were not necessarily theaters of war in the way they are today. Occupation and liberation each produced urban combat, but not to the extent we saw, for instance, after the occupation of major Iraqi cities or in the recent combat against ISIS.
A shift began during the cold war period. The Battle of Algiers (1957), Hue in Vietnam (1968), and the “troubles” in Northern Ireland are but three examples of an emergent pattern of asymmetric war: regular armies confronting insurgencies fought by so-called irregular combatants who lacked airplanes and tanks but had only guns and bombs and thus found in urban space a strategic space for their types of operations. We have also come to understand how incapacitating this type of asymmetric conflict is for regular armies. These earlier forms of violence in cities can be viewed as forerunners of today’s forms of violence.
If we think about the key characteristics of new wars, there are several reasons such wars are likely to be urban based. First, new wars are fought by networks of state and nonstate actors that are both global and local. Indeed, global circuits are critical in both political and economic terms. Often the individual combatants are recruited from rural areas or from recently arrived rural-urban migrants. However, they are incorporated into transnational networks, whose political communications and financial infrastructure are necessarily city based. This was the case in Syria, where armed opposition groups mobilized among the unemployed and frustrated rural poor using funding often provided by rich Gulf donors. The opposition groups promoted various versions of pan-Islamic ideologies and engaged in predatory activities, such as the smuggling of antiquities, that were integrated into global circuits. Indeed, the explosion of house prices in London can be explained partly in terms of the money-laundering activities of Syrian warlords. It is cities, therefore, that are integrated into the global economy and that host the infrastructure of global networks.
Second, the new identity politics is being nurtured in cities. Cities were always, to some extent, segregated. There are rich and poor neighborhoods. There are Chinatowns and Little Italys. It was Venice in the sixteenth century that established the first ghetto—an area allocated to Jews by the doge, called the Campo del Ghetto Nuevo. The social base of the new wave of identity politics tends to be young unemployed males, and this includes newly arrived urban immigrants who congregate in areas of similar ethnicity or religion. Examples include poor Shi‘as in Baghdad or Basra, industrial workers with rural plots in the former Yugoslavia, and displaced persons and returned refugees in Kabul, not to mention the inner cities of the West. They often receive help and support from identity-based nongovernmental organizations (NGOs) or religious institutions and are often deeply insecure, yearning for an imagined traditional culture from which they came. Such people are vulnerable to identity-based ideologies that are used to win newly established elections. Indeed, the need to create homogeneous constituencies helps to explain social and ethnic cleansing, which fosters identity-based fear of the “other.”6
Third, in new wars, military-style battles are avoided, and most violence is directed against civilians. In such wars, the aim is political control of territory, which is achieved through expelling or terrorizing those who might challenge political control. Contemporary communications are critical for recruitment, connectivity among disparate groups, and, above all, spreading fear. Hence we find ever-smaller territorial fiefdoms surrounded by borders, checkpoints, and walls—cities composed of archipelagos.
On the one hand, it is easier to evade new techniques of surveillance in cities, which is one reason that shantytowns and tower blocks are the twenty-first-century equivalent of mountains and jungles. On the other hand, cities are a suitable target either because of the vulnerability of twenty-first-century city infrastructure to terrorist acts such as suicide bombings and air strikes, or because of the spread of organized crime, and/or because of the political goal of ethnic cleansing. In many cases, ethnic or religious ghettoization explains why historic and cultural symbols are targeted, while in other cases, it is these symbols’ insertion into global circuits of meaning that makes them prime targets for insurgent groups. Coward talks about how urbicide is used to describe the way in which new wars deliberately target the very fabric of the city—the notion of publicness and the idea of a civic community on which cities are based (Coward 2006).
The statistics of new wars tell a grim story. Although casualties (deaths) are, on the whole, lower than in the industrial wars of the twentieth century, the typical characteristic of contemporary wars is expulsion. Political control is established through the forced eviction of those with a different identity or those who disagree. Every year, the grand total of refugees multiplies; as of July 2019, the total number of people displaced by war and repression had reached an all-time high of 70.8 million, according to the United Nations High Commission for Refugees (UNHCR). This displacement can also be treated as forced urbanization—multiplying the population of cities such as Goma in eastern Congo, Pristina in Kosovo, or Kabul in Afghanistan—and further augmenting the causes of insecurity.
Finally, the economies of the new megacities are vastly different from the classic city described by Charles Tilly as the basis of the nation-state (Tilly 2000). Particularly in the third world, the dramatic growth of cities has not necessarily translated into the growth of productive wealth. Often the economies of cities are dependent on state provision financed through resource extraction and/or international aid. In these circumstances, taxation is low, as is spending on urban and social infrastructure. Unemployment is frequently high, and this is associated with the spread of an informal and often criminalized economy that is integrated into global circuits and networks of power—la Ville Sauvage (Goma case study) or the feral city (Norton 2003). The disorder associated with violence provides a convenient cover for a variety of revenue-generating activities that include looting, extortion, so-called protection and hostage taking, as well as smuggling in drugs, antiquities, oil, diamonds, or people. It is this informal economy that both provides finance for new wars and, by the same token, flourishes within the environment of violence.
All these factors help to explain the persistence of contemporary urban violence and why it is so difficult to bring new wars to an end. The various warring parties—state and nonstate, regular and irregular—have a vested interest in violence both for political reasons (because violence is a way to construct extremist identities) and for economic reasons (because violence is a method of extracting resources). These factors also explain how this predatory social condition that characterizes many cities has a tendency to spread through the global networks that compose the new wars.
Global Security Interventions
It is possible to distinguish external interventions in terms of what Kaldor calls “security cultures” (Kaldor 2018). The terms security and culture are complex concepts. Security is profoundly ambiguous, in that it is supposed to refer to the safety of the individual or the state—the referent of security—yet at the same time, the word conjures up a set of capabilities or practices (military, police, or intelligence agencies) that are deeply embedded in notions of political authority. Culture is used to refer to the combination of a set of practices (security apparatuses and how they act) and to an objective (the safety of the nation or human beings). These various components or elements combine—not necessarily harmoniously—to produce and reproduce certain types of behavior. Whether such behavior is good or bad is a normative judgment that can be made on the basis of an empirical study of what constitutes a culture. Or to put it another way, such a culture is characterized by a set of social relationships that have their own specific logics and that open up or close down pathways for change.
New wars can also be described as a culture. Whereas old wars were understood as deep-seated political contests—and, indeed, interruptions in everyday life—new wars involve myriad armed actors and networks who reproduce themselves in both political and economic terms through violence, spreading tactics and practices along the vectors of insecurity and permeating everyday life over time. The insecurity experienced in cities comes primarily under the rubric of new wars. But these wars are deeply imbricated with the global. In all our studies, the globalized context, the nexus of global capital, crime, and communication are deeply intertwined at local levels. In addition, in several of our studies, local insecurities are overlaid by global security interventions, which, in this book, we describe in terms of two other types of security culture: the war on terror and the liberal peace.
The war on terror is about the use of military force to attack nonstate actors—it is the war of the manhunt, par excellence asymmetric war. The war on terror involves a sinister twenty-first-century combination of intelligence agencies, private security contractors, and regular military forces. Air strikes, drone attacks, and warfighting, the characteristic practices of the war on terror, exacerbate identity-based polarization and weaken the formal economy. Fallujah, Grozny, or Raqqa are examples of where battles were fought without restraint. Grozny was reduced to rubble and, at one point, pinned down some 130,000 Russian troops as opposed to 3,000–5,000 Chechens. Yet despite the formal victory in 2000, the conflict and the interconnection between terrorism and organized crime has not been severed.
Fallujah was destroyed twice by U.S. forces, and yet the Sunni insurgency was still able to regroup and reenter the city after the battle was over, leaving today’s legacy of ISIS. Raqqa and other cities formerly controlled by ISIS have been totally destroyed, yet local people are angrier with the Western Coalition than with ISIS, because of the scale of death and destruction. Moreover ISIS fighters are reappearing in supposedly liberated areas.
Warfighting results in very high casualties, especially among civilians, even with the kind of precision attacks that were used by the Israelis in Lebanon and Gaza or by NATO in Libya. Even if such attacks do minimize civilian casualties, they provoke counterattacks by groups that have neither the capacity nor the legal requirement to minimize civilian deaths. The same argument applies to drone attacks that are supposed to avoid civilian casualties: mistakes are inevitable not only in continuing collateral damage but also in the identification of targets—so-called signature strikes, for example—and hovering drones are themselves a form of terror.
Even where direct attacks are avoided, the prevalence of these external interventions is characterized by partitions, security zones, and extensive surveillance, what is described in the Karachi study as a process of enclavization. The establishment of green zones in Iraq and Afghanistan provides heavily guarded and mostly peaceful areas for the international community. Outside the green zones, in the red zones, ordinary citizens are vulnerable to bombs and crime, broken infrastructure, unemployment, and mud or dust. Even after General David Petraeus introduced a new approach to security in Baghdad, setting up joint security stations all over the city and negotiating hundreds of local cease–fires, the city remained riddled with partitions and checkpoints.
In contrast to the war on terror, the liberal peace is about stabilization after a formal peace agreement and involves a combination of peacekeepers, civilian aid agencies, and NGOs. The liberal peace model of security is about implementing a peace agreement in which the participants in the peace agreement are the actors of new wars. It involves separating the sides and controlling heavy weaponry, demobilizing or integrating armed fighters, as well as numerous other so-called peace-building programs. But it cannot control the ability of the armed actors to prey on ordinary people, because the armed actors are the key agents in implementing the agreement. This model of security does reduce the overall level of violence through physical segregation and surveillance and other measures, but it fails to establish law and order and everyday security.
As the chapters in this book show, this model of security can be seen as a way of living with perpetual war. The walls and checkpoints become emblematic of threats, and physical distance increases the suspicion and fear that is the bedrock of identity politics. This model of security is also expensive, given that partitions have to be constructed and monitored; checkpoints have to be manned, and often infrastructure has to be duplicated on both sides of the partition. The model creates an industry of insecurity that may self-perpetuate and add to existing insecurities.
Where the liberal peace coexists with the war on terror, as in Bamako, Kabul, or Baghdad, insecurity is pervasive. This is also the case in Karachi, where localized insecurity—a version of the new wars culture—is overlaid by the war on terror, leading to a ceaseless process of enclavization. It is also the case in Ciudad Juárez, where the war on terror on the U.S.-Mexico border intersects with criminal violence and violence resulting from privatization of security, similar to the enclavization to be found in Karachi.
Where the liberal peace is less overshadowed by the war on terror, it is more likely to take advantage of urban capabilities, including local civic activities, and to contribute to the role of city as safe haven in the midst of war, as the study of Goma demonstrates. In the two cities where no global security intervention is present (Bogotá and Novi Pazar), security in the sense of safety is linked to how the complex conjunction of violent activities and urban capabilities in a broader globalized economic context plays out.
Table 0.1 summarizes the combinations of new wars with global security interventions that characterize the case studies in this book. It is these differences in the way that insecurity is experienced and the possible openings that are investigated in the following chapters.
Table 0.1 Cities and Security Cultures
|
War on Terror |
Liberal Peace |
| Bamako |
x |
x |
| Kabul |
x |
x |
| Baghdad |
x |
x |
| Ciudad Juárez |
x |
|
| Karachi |
x |
|
| Goma |
|
x |
| Bogotá |
|
|
| Novi Pazar |
|
|
While cities increasingly provide the ideal setting for the flourishing of new wars, the city itself also might provide the elements of an alternative security culture. Urban spaces possess the capacity to make new subjects and identities that would not be possible in, for example, rural areas or a country as a whole. A city’s sociality can bring out and underline the urbanity of subject and setting and dilute more essentialist signifiers. This shift often happens when cities confront major challenges and need new solidarities. For instance, cities have increasingly begun to pass their own ordinances to contest national policy norms. Examples include the passing of more progressive environmental laws and designating cities as sanctuaries for undocumented immigrants. The joint responses required to address and solve urban problems place emphasis on an urban—rather than individual or group (such as religious or ethnic)—subject and identity.7
Nevertheless, as the chapters of this book show, cities can also provide the impetus for new divisions that draw on the vulnerability of newly arrived migrants, as well as the growing precariousness of older inhabitants, in the face of evictions, inequalities, and armed conflict. Violence tends to split a city’s people along often reinvented or instrumentalized divisions, such as happened in Baghdad.
Still, movements composed of disparate groups with a variety of grievances have managed to coalesce in increasingly legitimate ways as they are confronted with extreme challenges. They can generate subnational struggles for self-governance at the level of the neighborhood and the city. The commingling of diverse struggles that is inherent to urban spaces can cultivate a broader and deeper push for a new normative order.
Beyond war, cities have often enabled struggles that aim to go beyond the conflicts and racisms that mark an epoch—partly because urban residents simply had to do so to make the city function, and partly because of the cosmopolitan traditions of cities such as Baghdad, Novi Pazar (Serbia), or Aleppo (Syria). Such initiatives simultaneously emerge from and further develop urban capabilities.8 It is out of this type of dialectic that arose the open urbanity that historically made European cities spaces for expanded citizenship. One factor feeding these positives was that both the modest middle classes and the powerful found in the city a space for their diverse life projects. For the poor and powerless, the city has increasingly become the space of last resort, their having been expelled by the corporatizing of land and the destruction of villages.
Today, two types of acute challenges facing cities tell us something about how urban capabilities can alter hatred and conflict, as the yogurt run illustrates. One is the urbanizing of war, and the other is the hard work of making open cities—that is, urban societies that are open to diverse groups with flexible mechanisms in place to resolve differences. An achievement of this in Western cities might be the repositioning of the immigrant and the citizen as above all urban subjects rather than essentially different subjects, as much of the anti-immigrant and racist commentary does.
These are among the features that make cities a space of great complexity and diversity. The enhanced inclusion they make possible lends them civic capability. But cities also confront major conflicts that threaten to reduce that complexity to little more than a cement jungle. Extreme racism, government-led wars on terror, and pending crises of climate change, to name a few, demand that we expand urban capabilities and the meaning of civic membership.9
The city, then, is uniquely capable of nurturing novel partial orders.10 The new strategic role of cities versus states in international economic dealings suggests growing power for cities and makes it possible for us to imagine a return to the dominance of urban over national law. Cities are one of the key sites where new norms and identities are made. They have been such sites at various times and in various places, and under vastly diverse conditions. With globalization and digitization—and all the specific elements they entail—global cities emerge as strategic sites for making norms and identities. Some of these norms and identities reflect extreme power, and others reflect innovation under duress: notably, much of what happens in immigrant neighborhoods.
Whereas strategic transformations are sharply concentrated in global cities, many are also enacted (besides being diffused) in cities at lower orders of national urban hierarchies. Beyond economic functions, there is the potential for cities to make informal norms and identities, often resulting from urban challenges and dynamics that force residents and leaders into crafting innovative responses and adaptations. In short, cities combine constraints and possibilities that push urban residents into action when such constraints might not push a nation into action.
In all our case studies, it is possible to identify examples of urban capabilities. Novi Pazar, in Serbia, succeeded in remaining outside the Balkan wars during the 1990s as a consequence of determination on the part of the city elites, even though its fragile order is under threat from the external environment of violence and neoliberal economic policies. Farza, a suburb of Kabul, offers an example where local residents, along with security forces, have found ways to negotiate differences to exclude violent actors from the area. And Goma in eastern Democratic Republic of the Congo (DRC) has, in the midst of war, provided a sort of refuge for a combination of displaced persons, armed groups, and liberal peace actors.
The militarization and securitization of cities can push residents into action because those actions override the welfare function. The imperative of security means a shift in political priorities. It implies a cut or a relative decrease in budgets dedicated to social welfare, education, health, infrastructure development, economic regulation, and planning. This trend challenges the very concept of citizenship and suggests that cities still must find new ways to transcend conflict and harness the power of the challenges they face.11 Under these conditions, recovering urban capabilities is essential for the city to remain a diverse and inclusive space despite ideological and actual war, and racism and xenophobia.
The partial resilience of urban capabilities, then, also implies the possibility of making new subjectivities and identities. For instance, often it is the urbanity of the subject and of the setting that mark a city, rather than ethnicity, religion, or phenotype. But that urban marking of subject and setting does not simply fall from the sky. It frequently comes out of hard work and painful trajectories. One question is whether it can also come out of the need for new solidarities in cities that are confronted by major challenges, such as violent racism, armed conflict, or environmental crises. The acuteness and overwhelming character of the major challenges cities confront today can serve to create conditions in which the challenges are bigger and more threatening than a city’s internal conflicts and hatreds. This might force us into joint responses and, from there, to the emphasis of an urban, rather than individual or group, subject and identity—such as an ethnic or religious subject and identity.
This book focuses on cities that are not considered part of the advanced industrial world, even though they are connected through numerous global circuits. They are part of what is sometimes described as the “global south” or the third world, even though they are located east, west, south, and even north, and even though they vary considerably in levels of income and degrees of globalization.
The book begins with three deeply insecure cities where the global presence comprises both the war on terror and the liberal peace. In chapter 1, about Bamako in Mali, Ruben Andersson vividly describes the remapping of urban space as a consequence of international interventions. He describes how this remapping creates dangerous divisions between Bamako and the no–go hinterlands as well as between internationals and local city dwellers—an ever-spiraling, pervasive insecurity caused by a combination of bunkerization and remote-controlled intervention.
Chapter 2 on Kabul by Florian Weigand contrasts two areas of Kabul: one rural and one urban. He shows how a low-key, inclusive communally based approach to security in the rural area has minimized levels of violence. By contrast, proximity to terrorist targets, lack of trust in security forces, and a complex of walls and checkpoints have produced a deep sense of insecurity in the urban area. His depiction of bunkerization and remote intervention in Kabul echoes some of the elements of the Bamako study.
Chapter 3 by Ali Ali on Baghdad tells the story of what he calls the “systematic discarding” of people in Baghdad after the U.S. invasion in 2003 through the lived experience of individuals. He takes the reader through the various phases of discarding—first, the dismantling of the army and the de-Ba’athification process, then the ethnic cleansing that took place during the civil war, and finally, the exclusion of Sunnis with the establishment of a Shi‘a-dominated government.
Chapters 4 and 5 are about cities where the war on terror intersects with a range of localized forms of violence. Ciudad Juárez is a town on the U.S.-Mexican border characterized by extreme drug violence that has many of the characteristics of a new war. Mary Martin shows how criminal violence intersects with the war on terror that is enacted on the border, as well as the neoliberal privatization of security in relation to economic enterprises—a neoliberal security culture. She shows how the authorities, with mixed success, confronted these deadly forms of violence through the construction of a public security approach aimed at regenerating a sense of civic solidarity.
Sobia Ahmed’s chapter on Karachi provides a granular account of what she calls the “process of enclavization” that has developed in the context of the combination of criminality, ethnoviolence, and the war on terror. She describes an enclavization, similar to the privatization described in Ciudad Juárez, that seems only to perpetuate and exacerbate the sense of insecurity experienced by residents of Karachi.
In chapter 6, Karen Büscher shows how the city of Goma in eastern DRC has been transformed as a consequence of war from a small administrative center into a large urban conglomeration. She focuses on the way in which an international liberal peace presence, together with urban capabilities, have produced a variety of zones of protection: a place of refuge, a safe haven for rebels, an international humanitarian industry, and a hub of transregional trade.
Finally, the last two chapters are about cities where an international presence is minimal. Chapter 7 by Johannes Rieken and colleagues about Bogotá provides an example of the way in which urban capabilities can be nurtured through the construction of civic spaces and communal activities, improvements in city infrastructure, and efforts to diminish socioeconomic inequalities and increase respect for the rule of law. The model has its shortcomings, which are outlined in the chapter, but it can be contrasted to the physical and privatized approach to security involving walls and checkpoints that tends to make things worse.
Chapter 8 portrays the compelling story of Novi Pazar, a predominantly Muslim city in Serbia. Vesna Bojicic-Dzelilovic shows how urban capabilities were deployed to resist war and violence and how this has become increasingly difficult in the context of industrial decline, poverty, large-scale population movements due to the influx of refugees, the emergence of exclusionary identity politics, and clientilistic forms of governance.
In the brief conclusion, we reflect on the spaces for tactical urbanism—how the widespread manifestations of urban capabilities, however minor, might provide the opening for an alternative way of imagining how to reduce violence.
This book offers the perspective of the urban subject as one compelling answer to contemporary wars. On the one hand, we argue that political violence has become increasingly urbanized partly as a consequence of displacement that expands the cities and partly as a result of the way in which newly reinvented exclusive identities prey on the vulnerable as a consequence of inequality, deprivation, and displacement, while the built environment offers a haven for irregular groups in both physical and economic terms. In the coming chapters, we describe the ways in which cities have been partitioned, segregated, and damaged materially and spiritually. At the same time, what we call the yogurt run is intrinsic to cities. Cities cannot offer a haven or even a ghetto without certain types of public services and connectivities—these are the capabilities of the city that shape a different kind of urban or civic subjectivity that is the main way in which security can be constructed or reconstructed.
Notes
1. See, for example, Abrahamsen, Hubert, and Williams 2009; McKilcullen 2013.
2. See, for example, Graham 2010.
3. The multiple roles women take on in war zones has long been overlooked in the literature on “mankind” and war. The current development of this literature now includes questions of identity and selfhood. In specific situations, these factors are also present in war zones, even though war zones are, for now, not the current focus in the literature on the many instantiations of womanhood. See, for example, Compton, Meadow, and Schilt 2018, Phoenix 2017; Chinkin and Kaldor 2013.
4. See, for example, Loomba 2015, Tricoire 2017.
5. For a full theorization of new wars, see Kaldor 2012.
6. Akar and others have demonstrated how this happens in Beirut; for example, Akar 2012; Fawaz, Harb, and Gharbieh 2012.
7. For a longer discussion of urban subjects, see Sassen 2012.
8. See Sassen 2008, 277–319. All subsequent citations refer to this edition.
9. In previous research, Saskia Sassen has explored in depth the resurgence of urban lawmaking and its significance. The emergent landscape described here promotes a multiplicity of diverse spatiotemporal framings and diverse normative miniorders, where once the dominant logic was toward producing grand unitary national spatial, temporal, and normative framings. (See Sassen 2008, chaps. 2, 6, 8, and 9).
10. One synthesizing image we might use to capture these dynamics is the movement from centripetal nation–state articulation to a centrifugal multiplication of specialized assemblages.
11. See Graham 2010, Marcuse 2002, and Sassen 2008, chapter 6.
Abrahamsen, R., D. Hubert, and M. C. Williams. 2009. “Guest Editors’ Introduction” in “Special Issue on Urban Insecurities.” Security Dialogue 40 (4–5): 363–72. https://doi.org/10.1177/0967010609343301.
Compton, D’Lane, Tey Meadow, and Kristen Schilt, eds. 2018. Other, Please Specify: Queer Methods in Sociology. Oakland: University of California Press.
Chinkin, Christine, and Mary Kaldor. 2013. “Gender and New Wars.” Journal of International Affairs 67 (1): 167–87.
Graham, Stephen. 2010. Cities Under Siege: The New Military Urbanism. London: Verso.
Kaldor, Mary. 2012. New and Old Wars, 3rd ed. Cambridge: Polity.
Kaldor, Mary. 2018. Global Security Cultures. Cambridge: Polity.
Loomba, Ania. 2015. Colonialism/Postcolonialism (The New Critical Idiom). London: Routledge.
Marcuse, Peter. 2002. “Urban Form and Globalization After September 11th: The View from New York.” International Journal of Urban and Regional Research 26 (3): 596–606.
McKilcullen, D. 2013. Out of the Mountains: The Coming Age of the Urban Guerrilla. London: C. Hurst.
Norton, Richard J. 2003. “Feral cities.” Naval War College Review 56 (4): 97–106.
——. 2008. Territory, Authority, Rights: From Medieval to Global Assemblages, 2nd ed. Princeton: Princeton University Press.
——. 2012. “Urban Capabilities: An Essay on Our Challenges and Differences.” Journal of International Affairs 65 (2): 85–95.
Tricoire, Damien. 2017. Enlightened Colonialism: Civilization Narratives and Imperial Politics in the Age of Reason. London: Palgrave Macmillan.
United States Department of the Army. 1979. Military Operations in Urbanized Terrain (MOUT). FM-90-10, Washington, DC.
Young, Robert C. 1995. Colonial Desire: Hybridity in Theory, Culture and Race. London: Routledge.
——. 2015. Empire, Colony, Post-colony. London: Wiley Blackwell.