1 On the Margins of the Republic
Medical Encounters in a Postcolonial Setting and the Construction of Sociolinguistic Orders of Visibility
Valelia Muni Toke
Introduction
sâFrench Overseas territoriesâ is a political and administrative category that encompasses a wide range of heterogeneous postcolonial casesâfrom places which have held penal colonies (French Guiana, New Caledonia)1 to places that have been dominated by slavery (Martinique, Guadeloupe, La RĂ©union) and to ancient protectorates which have not been colonies of settlement (French Polynesia, Wallis-and-Futuna, Mayotte). These territories are now divided between dĂ©partements on the one handâan administrative status that matches the one of mainland Franceâand collectivitĂ©s on the other hand, which have a hybrid administrative status: they keep local and traditional forms of governance alongside the French administration. This is the case of Wallis (South Pacific), on which this chapter focuses. The island2 became been a French protectorate in 1842, and served as a military base for the American army during World War II. Its population is now ca. 8900 inhabitants. After a referendum in 1959, in which French citizenship was offered to inhabitants while preserving both the royalty and the influence of the Catholic Churchâ3 an option that received 100 percent of favourable votes from the population (Henningham 1992, 1995)âWallis became a territoire dâOutre-mer (TOM) in 1961 and is now labelled as a collectivitĂ© dâOutre-mer (COM). In practice, an aristocratic regime that includes kings, ministers, and village chiefs4 decides land ownership issues (a conflictual question in postcolonial settings), while the French State keeps all executive power on all other domains (notably justice). Administration and public service such as schools and hospitals are run in French exclusively, although almost 25 percent of the population in Wallis declares itself non-French speaking according to the 2011 census. The vast majority of Wallisian children speak a Polynesian language, Fakaâuvea,5 at home and start learning French when they go to school, from the age of three (Muni Toke 2012). The island thus stands as a case of Stateâs monolingual management that relies on the French Constitution, of which article number 2 says: âThe language of the Republic is Frenchâ.
This chapter postulates that the contemporary political situation of the French Overseas territories provides a unique observatory to the sociolinguistic inquiry that concerns the politics of multilingualism and diversity in a globalizing world. Language and citizenship issues are often addressed from the perspective of migration (Moyer and Rojo 2007), which is definitely a valid one when it comes to French Overseas territories as well, especially because some of them receive significant incoming migration fluxes (French Guiana and Mayotte, for instance). But the particular question that these southern territories raise is the one of autochthony and indigeneity in a postcolonial era (Gausset, Kenrick, and Gibb 2011). Being politically dependent on a European metropole, yet displaying socio-economic characteristics of the so-called Southern countries, French Overseas territories allow the investigation of the fact that âthere is much South in the North, much North in the Southâ (Comaroff and Comaroff 2012, 127). In this sense, they stand on the margins of the Republic, geographically, politically, and socially: in all of them, indicators are alarming when compared to mainland France. Infant mortality is much higher than in metropolitan France (Cour des Comptes 2014),6 cost of living is significantly higher although unemployment is a major issue, which leads to social protests and feelings of despair (Gordien 2014), and school dropout is also worrisome (DoligĂ© 2009). The ethnographic work that I present here takes health care settings in Wallis as privileged sites for observation and analysis of multilingual practices within the public service.
As Wallis has never been a colony of settlement, almost the totality of the population was born and raised on the island, or on the island of Futuna that is 250 kms away, or within Wallisian and Futunian families who migrated to metropolitan France or to New Caledonia (another French territory which is only a three-hours flight away). A minority of French expats lives on the island as well, mostly in order to run the administration and public service in general. In the 2011 census, approximately 90 percent of the population declared that Wallisian is the language that they use primarily at home. In this sense, it is irrelevant here to talk about minority (in the quantitative sense) languages or migrant languages (or even of urban settings, as these islands are small and entirely rural) as in many contexts where contemporary multilingualism is studied. What we deal with is rather a case of political minoritization of autochthonous languages through Stateâs actionsânotably through the provision of public service (education, health care) in French only. The objective of this chapter is precisely to shed light on the way metropolitan State governance in postcolonial settings and institutional monolingualism creates locally an interpretative lens through which social positionalities get assessed within local economies of communication (Bourdieu 1977a; Bourdieu and Bensa 1985; Stroud 2007). I here understand economies of communication as situated and embodied interactions, discourses, and metapragmaticsâthey are sites that produce, reproduce, and impact socially significant discourses and practices; sites where indexicalities attached to social positionalities get reshuffled and renegotiated. This renegotiation praxis is not confined to the here and now of linguistic events but can rather be understood as organized in a scalar way (Blommaert 2007a; Collins and Slembrouck 2007; Herod and Wright 2002), articulating the level of individual interaction to the postcoloniality of the political regime in place. In the case of Wallis, the fact that care is provided by a hospital run by the French State (there is no private medical practice on the island) sets a particular frame for communication: health care is provided in a top-down movement, from the French State (all doctors are from metropolitan France) to the autochthonous, sometimes non-French speaking population, and competes directly with the local, traditional non-biomedical approaches to care.7 One thus needs to understand what is at stake in medical encounters in these particular settings, the hypothesis being that the State hospitals achieve a social task that goes beyond health care provision, as this task is embedded within politicized issues of racialization, legitimacy of (bio-)medical knowledge, and colonial history.
This chapter relies on fieldwork that I have undertaken since 2010 in Wallis,8 living mostly among familiesâand mostly with my own relatives, as my father is Wallisian and migrated as an adult to metropolitan France where I was born and raised. When in the field, I am therefore ethnically perceived by my interlocutors in various ways. I am a metropolitan researcher as I work for a French public research institute, but people who define themselves as Wallisians on the island alternatively refer to me as a âmĂ©tisseâ (âmixed-raceâ) and as a Wallisian, depending on how these categorizations and terms appear relevant in a particular conversational context. When categorized only from a phenotypical perspective, I am often seen as âWhiteâ as well.9 My position in the field is therefore privileged, as I am granted access to many local private settings and conversations, and comforted into some sense of legitimacy regarding my presence on the islandâbut it is also sometimes uncomfortable in case of conflicts between local inhabitants and metropolitan State representatives, for instance, as both parts would claim my loyalty and expect me to understand and support them. In the data that follows, one should keep in mind that most of the patients see me as a Pacific Islander whom they explicitly want to help in her work by sharing their experience,10 when doctors would take various stances towards me, alternatively speaking to the metropolitan researcher (seeking closeness in the exchange) and to the Wallisian woman (usually praising quite artificially in my view, seemingly to please me, the âlocal cultureâ).
In what follows, after pointing out how the construction of âorders of visibilityâ is related to the process of âseeing like a stateâ (section 2), I take the case of the voices of patients who are perceived as indigenous in public health care settings in Wallis (section 3). They seem to remain largely inaudible, possibly because these patients are not expected to speak in the first place: they are often viewed by the French doctors as preferring to communicate through the gravity of silenceâwhich would be a Polynesian cultural practiceâor, in other cases, as being untrustworthy anyway. In a context where the French State representatives work along with the local aristocratic regime, I argue that this ethnicization of the bodies and voices might mirror the somehow ...