Abstract
Given the apparent similarities to transnational activities, diasporic activities, processes and actors are often the first victims of the conceptual curse of transnationalism, resulting in the glossing over of particularities in the diaspora field which, if studied separately, would have important analytical consequences for migration studies. Failure to introduce viable options for differentiating between two (very) different sets of activities that comprise transnational and diaspora activities, means we are unable to identify specificities that have important consequences for the analysis of the diaspora field. By introducing the concept of ‘field’, and arguing that the diaspora field should be separate from the transnational field, we demonstrate that the actions of diaspora groups towards their homeland, with particular emphasis on the case of the Lebanese diaspora, are best studied independently. The ‘field’ framework highlights the power relations that determine the impact of diaspora remittances and brings forward the centrality of the state in diaspora–homeland relationships.
In this article, we argue that the Bourdieusian concept of the ‘field’ is an appropriate framework for analysing the actions of diasporic groups and capturing the real difference between the ‘diasporic’ and the ‘transnational’ field. This article sets out to demonstrate the pitfalls and limitations of studying diaspora within the broad and often inappropriate framework of transnationalism, while highlighting the opportunities and nuances that are revealed upon application of the more appropriate diaspora-specific field perspective.
We consider that the failure to recognize the divergences and particularities of the two distinct yet related fields leads to weak analytical power. In fact, when examining state–diaspora relations without the use of a diaspora-specific field lens, the centrality of the state in diasporic–homeland relations is masked and the identity of the actors involved in the field becomes hard to differentiate from that of non-diasporic actors. Falling short of this differentiation, we are unable to effectively perceive diaspora as a ‘resource’, or to adequately recognize that diasporic remittances are the outcome of a process of power struggle between home-bound actors specific to the diaspora; such specificities are best encapsulated in the concept of a diasporic ‘field’.
In this light, consideration of the literature reveals a clear and far-reaching failure to appropriately apply and distinguish between the terms ‘diasporic’ and ‘transnational’, as well as the often improper and ineffectual use of the field as an analytical framework. We see that, among other things, diasporic activities are all too often referred to as transnational, preventing a proper understanding of the processes at play when co-ethnics or co-nationals, for example, remit politically to their homeland. The vast differences between the ‘rules of the game’ within each field, mean that seeking to understand diasporic processes in a transnational field is akin to using the rules of basketball to judge a football game.
To be clear, we place our argument for the distinction between the diasporic field and the transnational field within the context of the modern nation-state system; that is, in reference to what is often referred to in the literature as modern or contemporary diasporas, rather than classical diasporas, such as the Greeks or the pre-modern Jewish diaspora. This clarification is necessary because the diasporas of each period differ slightly in their defining factors: many diasporas (but not all) in the modern period are defined by their enduring interest in their nation-state in its post-French Revolution form, and are also determined not only by people’s displacement (as in classical diasporas), but also by an identity which is forged by a distinct history and an identifiable territory called a ‘nation’. Additionally, we cannot discount those stateless ethnic groups living in various global locations whose homeland is, as Cohen (1996: 516) puts it, an ‘ex post facto construction’ such as Kurds or Sikhs, in which the definition of diasporic success is considered to be the establishment of a homeland. It is these modern diasporas – either linked to a state or stateless – closely associated with the rise of modernity and nation-states, that our paper focuses on.
Within the framework of what Cohen (1996) calls a ‘solid’ diaspora, diasporic activities or remittances are by their very definition ultimately aimed at the homeland, be it imagined or real; the homeland being a single, specific state, in which an individual or group with national (or ethnic) ties aims to achieve certain goals, for example influencing elections or contributing to community-based development projects. Thus, in the diasporic field, the majority of agents or actors have a common identity (ethnic-cum-national), which is the main reason for their engagement in diasporic activities. This is of vital importance, because the ethnic and national (relative) homogeneity of diasporic actors endows them with a greater degree of capital or power with which to influence the field. Non-diasporic actors seeking to influence the field (i.e. transnationals, who are nationally and ethnically heterogeneous both in relation to each other and the target state) are disadvantaged because of their national/ethnic diversity, and their subsequent relative inability to penetrate the opportunity structure or ‘rules of the game’ articulated by the sending state.
In contrast, transnational activities are by their nature de-centred and nationally diffuse in character, and actors within the transnational field are (usually) multi-ethnic and multinational. Because in the Bourdieusian conception of the field, the modern nation-state itself sets the (always already contested) parameters for legitimacy and success, and diaspora can be conceptualized as a resource, diasporic groups or individuals are rightly seen as having more power to influence and dominate the opportunity structure, forming a power hierarchy that is specific and particular to the diasporic field, and in which the state seeks to play a dominant and regulatory role (Tabar and Maalouf, 2016). Where the transnational optic sought to overcome the preponderance of the state, and at the same time acknowledge its limitations in analyses of transnational activities, causes and concerned players, we argue that when it comes to diasporic relations, the role of the state (when present) becomes crucial to understanding these relations because of its central role in trying to regulate the impact of its diaspora on their homeland and in seeking to set the terms for what are considered to be legitimate ‘diasporic’ activities (i.e. diasporic capital) versus ‘illegitimate’ or ‘resisting’ ones. Whereas Glick Schiller et al. (1992) show the tendency of migration studies to suffer from the bias of methodological nationalism, we contend that another form of methodological bias afflicts the study of diasporic processes when viewed within a broad transnational framework – a bias that erroneously downplays, among other things, the role of the nation-state with which the diaspora builds its connections.
In light of these observations, by utilizing the Bourdieusian concept of the ‘field’ to its full potential, and arguing that the diasporic field should be studied and analysed separately from the transnational field, we hope to demonstrate that the actions of diasporic groups towards their homeland are best studied independently (but mindful) of, the concept of transnationalism.
‘Solid’, ‘ductile’ and ‘liquid’ diaspora
Before embarking on a critical engagement with the dominant literature responsible for conflating diasporic and transnational relations, it behoves us to clarify what type of diaspora we have in mind as we argue for a diasporic field perspective. Our article contends that a ‘solid’ concept of diaspora, as proposed by Cohen (1996), is analytically important to capture a substantial part of the experience lived by certain migrant communities. However, referring to and studying a ‘solid’ diaspora does not mean that ‘ductile’ and ‘liquid’ diasporic communities, as defined by the same author, are non-existent. In his article, Cohen (1996) has clearly shown that for a ‘solid’ diasporic community to exist, it must basically fulfil three basic conditions listed by Brubaker: dispersion (either traumatically or voluntarily), homeland orientation and boundary maintenance (see Table 1). He also shows that scholars of migration have rightly pointed out the presence of diasporic communities with tenuous connections to home of origin (describing them as ductile) and diasporic formations which are not anchored territorially or have completely ceased to be engaged in their place of origin (calling them liquid diaspora).
A comparison between diaspora and transnational communities.
This article focuses on the ‘solid’ diaspora, trying to understand and analyse the two-way connection of diaspora with homeland. In so doing, we will draw some evidence from the case of the Lebanese diaspora, but at the same time we want to stress that much more evidence in support our analysis of solid diaspora could also be drawn from many other cases, including, but not restricted to, the Italian, the Greek, the Irish, the Armenian, the Palestinian, the Kurdish, the Ethiopian, the Eritrean and the Sri Lankan Tamil diasporas (Smith and Stares, 2007).
Engaging with the field
This section of the article will basically show that migration scholars often utilize the concept of the transnational field to refer to cross-national-borders relations that would otherwise warrant the differentiation of more than one field. In so doing, they tend to lump together distinct types of cross-borders relations and treat them as belonging to one category, ignoring the possibility of identifying more than one field and examining the relationship between the fields thus distinguished. Better still, it is found that many scholars employ the concept of field without the theoretical implications that come with it, or at best, they acknowledge some of these implications and ignore others.
In seeking to analyse the actions of individuals towards their homeland various scholars have utilized the field approach in their discussions. Most commonly dispatched as a spatial framework is the ‘transnational social field’ framework (Glick Schiller et al., 1992; Goldring, 1998; Guarnizo and Smith, 1998; Itzigsohn et al., 1999; Redeker-Hepner, 2009). Scholars commonly adopt the Bourdieusian field perspective (Brun and Van Hear, 2012; Garbin and Godin, 2013; Levitt and Glick Schiller, 2004; Turner, 2008), which rightly highlights the power relations prevalent in the field and the contested nature of capital specific to the field concerned (political, economic, cultural, etc.), as well as the conflicts by which the field is shaped and re-shaped.
It is our contention, however, that on the whole the literature does not utilize the field perspective to its full potential, resulting in a scholarship that is ultimately muddled, and in which the reality of relations with homeland is masked beneath the diverse deployment of the field response. First, we argue that the field response is used eclectically rather than systematically, and is often used inappropriately; second, the failure of the literature to differentiate between the transnational field and the diasporic field leads to an inadequate identification of actors and players within each field and how they derive and accumulate their power differently, as well as how the two (very different) fields can interact.
Certainly, there are writings that come close to what we are advocating for (Redeker-Hepner, 2009), but in far too many other cases the concept is used inadequately. In some instances, authors discuss at length the contested nature of capital, without demonstrating the regulatory role that the home state seeks to play in constituting the legitimacy (or indeed, illegitimacy) of that capital and to determine its ‘exchange rate’ with other capitals (Swartz, 2013: 135).
In other cases, authors use the concept of the field to describe any and every transient activity of the diaspora, making the number of fields dependent on the type of activity that the diaspora engages in, regardless of whether or not the concerned activity is durable/sustainable, objective or systematic. We contend that this manner of deploying the field concept considerably undermines the analytical power of this Bourdieusian concept and renders it useless. In still other instances, such use of the field concept fails to allow appreciation of the specificity of the collective power and non-unitary nature of the diaspora. The broader diasporic field is much more enduring and sustainable than a simple activity or process occurring between two actors. When we use the field perspective to analyse the relations, hierarchies and activities of actors in the diaspora and actors in the homeland, it also becomes clear that diaspora is not simply about the activities taking place in the host country; rather, it is relational. It relates those who are outside and inside the homeland, creating a new diasporic space between them.
In addition to being a complex and durable whole, the diasporic field can be analysed as a set of sub-fields, each with a capital specific to that sub-field. Importantly, unless the activities and processes occurring are sustainable and durable, they will not form a sub-field within the broader diasporic field, and such transient activities must only be considered as such. The actors and players within each of the sub-fields (diasporic political field, diasporic religious field, diasporic economic field, etc.) are different, as is the capital, and when capital moves between diasporic sub-fields, it assumes the character of the field that it has been converted into. Engaging in the diasporic political field requires sometimes the conversion of imported capital from outside the field (e.g. religious capital) into diasporic political capital. Take for example a religious leader in the diaspora using a sermon to politically chastise the occupation of his homeland by a foreign power; at this point, this leader is transforming his diasporic religious capital into a mobilizing political force.
We turn now to the tendency in the literature to consider diasporic relations or processes as simply an aspect of transnationalism. While Levitt (2001b: 8), for example seeks to distinguish between transnational and diasporic religious practices, she defines a number of clearly diasporic practices, including ‘[contributions] to sending community projects … contributions to political campaigns’, and the coordination of ‘party activities between the sending and receiving country’, as simply pointing to variations in the ‘intensity, frequency, and scope of transnational practices’ (Levitt, 2001b: 7–8, emphasis added). The denotation of diasporic activities as constituting an ‘aspect’ of a broader transnational field, we argue, masks the fact that the ‘rules of the game’ are vastly different in each case. In a similar vein, Vertovec (2000: 5) defines diaspora as having arisen from the ‘postmodern project of resisting the nation-state’, a definition we would more appropriately attribute to transnationalism – not least because, by definition, ‘solid’ diaspora, being an orientation towards the homeland, must acknowledge the role of the nation-state (whether imagined or real), and specifically the sending/home state, either by way of opposing it or lending its support to it.
Michel Laguerre (2006) argues for a distinction to be made in the study of diasporic political remittances, stating that there is a clear and pressing need to apply a separate ‘diasporic’ lens to the study of politics (and political remittances in particular). Laguerre (2006) falls short, however, of maintaining a clear and coherent separation between the terms diasporic and transnational, stating that diasporic relations are simply transnational relations ‘that are maintained between the country of origin and the country of residence’ (Laguerre, 2006: 7). Although he doesn’t explicitly argue for the use of a ‘diasporic field’, Laguerre’s contention that a separate analytical lens should be applied in the study of diasporic relations is crucial. We are proposing that the incorporation of the field response, alongside this understanding that the ‘diasporic political field’ deserves separate analytical attention, is the correct response to the confused and analytically weak notion of transnationalism, when studying diasporic processes.
The following examples demonstrate that even when the field response is appropriately deployed, and adequately captures the hierarchical and contested nature of relations within that field, failure to differentiate between the transnational field and the diasporic field leads us to fall short of a proper understanding of the specificities of diasporic relations. It is also clear from the following examples just how close some authors do come to fulfilling exactly what we are proposing, with many falling just short.
Simon Turner (2008: 747) argues when describing what he states to be the Burundian ‘transnational political field’, that ‘[a]lthough the field might be transnational, actors within the field are positioning themselves and each other according to who is inside and who is outside Burundi’. Clearly, such positioning does not take place in the transnational field, in which the legitimacy of capital does not depend on the ‘hegemonic discourse inside [the home state] Burundi’. In their article on the Congolese diaspora, Garbin and Godin (2013) utilize the Bourdieusian field systematically, allowing for its proper analytical value to be demonstrated, highlighting the uneven capital distribution between players, although they claim that diasporic activities take place within a transnational social/political field. Seemingly, Garbin and Godin (2013: 113) recognize the central role of the state as a regulator of diasporic capital, and they even discuss the ‘fragmentation and heterogeneity of the diasporic political sphere’ at the outset of their article, and continue to pepper the article with mentions of a ‘diasporic field’. But beyond this, they fail to adequately develop the notion that the diasporic field is separate from the transnational field, choosing instead to argue that diaspora engagement can be converted into political capital in a ‘larger transnational social field’ (Garbin and Godin, 2013: 120). This ultimately leads to an unclear understanding of how the transnational and diasporic fields interact. For example, the article discusses how Congolese diaspora women’s organizations mobilize transnational women’s rights movements for the sake of their diasporic cause; in this instance, the transnational intersects with the diasporic, and in so doing, transnational capital is converted into a diasporic capital and gives the latter more momentum – a crucial analytical aspect of this particular example which is otherwise masked. While Garbin and Godin (2013) describe the processes taking place between transnational and diasporic actors, their failure to recognize that they occupy different but interacting fields, precludes the reader from a full understanding of the relevant dynamics and, most importantly, of the regulatory role of the home state trying always to set the terms of converting one kind of capital into another; as such, their analysis is incomplete.
On the other hand, Brun and Van Hear (2012) opt to differentiate between the transnational and diasporic political fields, but do so based on an erroneous understanding of what the diasporic field entails, in terms of the capital, actors and boundaries of that field. According to these authors, Bourdieu’s notion of a ‘political field’, is comprised of the local field and the diasporic field, which, they argue, ‘are linked to form … the transnational political field’ (Brun and Van Hear, 2012: 63). This definition reflects an even more compounded confusion than the previous examples: for Brun and Van Hear (2012), the diasporic field does not include actors in the homeland, and is restricted to the activities of diaspora members abroad. Thus, they deny the specificity of the diasporic field which is, strictly speaking, different from the domestic political field and the transnational political field. The diasporic field, in our conception, is defined as a relational field that links those in the homeland with those in the host country, but is not appropriately defined as the link between a domestic field and a host country field because it is a field in and of itself, formed as a result of the power struggles between actors and players in that field.
In the case of actors within the diasporic field, their activities focus in the last instance on one country – that is, the country of their origin. Diasporic individuals can engage in transnational activities, and they may do so in alliance with members of other diasporas, but their activities are not necessarily diasporic simply by way of the fact that they are diasporic individuals. The lack of clarity is evident through consideration of Peggy Levitt’s Transnational Villagers (2001a), in which she does not differentiate between the pointed, clearly diasporic (and often political) activities taking place between the migrants and non-migrants of Miraflores, and the sustained, private, transnational relationships that the villagers maintain across borders. Although undoubtedly a rich and ground-breaking study, The Transnational Villagers, we argue, could achieve a better understanding of its villagers’ activities had the author adopted the proposed separation between the diasporic and the transnational fields.
Van Hear (2015: 32) proposes that the ‘transnational activities [of] diasporas can be considered in three spheres, which feature different combinations of the private and public’. He argues that the appropriate three spheres are: the largely private and personal sphere of the household and the extended family; the more public sphere of the ‘known community’, by which is meant collectivities of people that know each other or know of each other; and the largely public sphere of the ‘imagined community’, including ethnic, national, religious and other allegiances and affinities. (2015: 32)
We argue that this is a good example of the analytical confusion resulting from the lack of a clear distinction between transnational and diasporic activities. Not only is Van Hear confusing the reader in terms of the identity of actors involved in each set of activities, but also in relation to the ultimate target (orientation) of their activities.
We are putting forward the case to reserve the terms ‘diaspora’ and ‘diasporic activities’ to a category of people whose activities are public and pertaining to public interest, including the politics of their country of origin. In contrast, transnational activities are carried out by people who may or may not share the same country of origin and are involved in private and/or public activities that are not necessarily confined to one state/one nation, let alone the state and nation of origin of those involved in these activities. ‘Public’ transnational activities are by definition carried out by people who do not necessarily belong to the same national/ethnic background, and are oriented to deal with transnational issues concerning more than one state or issues of a single state having a global dimension.
The public character of diasporic activities, being aimed at the state or being community-based, sets them apart from transnational activities, which may be public or private in nature. If a member of the diaspora engages in dialogue with a family member in the homeland about personal finances or private relationships, for example, he/she is engaging in transnational relations, but his/her actions are not diasporic, because they are not aimed at or related to the homeland itself despite taking place in the homeland. In the same vein, according to our vision, should two co-ethnics/co-nationals, living in two different host countries, discuss issues related to the homeland, they do so within the transnational sphere until the point at which they specifically seek to convert capital of one kind or other into diasporic capital by actively seeking to impact the homeland. It is at the point of conversion that these ‘private’ transnational activities become ‘public’ and diasporic.
Transnational issues should be understood more as ‘global issues’, that can be taken up by, and fought for by anyone, whatever their nationality and wherever their location. When actors in the transnational field engage in ‘public’ and not ‘private’ activities, these activities revolve around issues related to a number of countries, if not the globe, and by definition they will not be aimed at one country, let alone the country of origin of the actors involved (not least because actors are likely, but not necessarily, multi-ethnic or multinational).
Transnational activities, when public, are more likely to revolve around ‘global issues’, including environmental issues, peace (in a certain state, area, or simply in general), animal rights, human rights or similar (Koinova, 2010). The public activities that take place within the diasporic field, by way of the fact that they are borne out of a collective national identity or shared sense of belonging, are specifically aimed at a single-state issue, or at least an issue that relates specifically to the bounded sending state, such as national elections. Similarly, if a non-diasporic individual engages in activities aimed at a state (real or imagined) that is not his/her own, such as a Belgian national among many other non-Palestinians engaging in the struggle for an independent Palestinian state, this is strictly transnational. Non-diasporic individuals (in this case, a non-Palestinian) can enter the Palestinian diasporic field by influencing the power struggle that takes place between members of the diaspora and the target state.
Another example of what we define as a ‘diasporic activity’ is the political mobilization of thousands of Lebanese-Australians during the 2006 Israeli war on Lebanon. During this period, there were demonstrations, donations were collected and sent out to devastated areas of Lebanon and to victims of the war. Importantly, many non-Lebanese also took part in these activities, and the question could be raised, as to whether to define the activities of these non-Lebanese as transnational or diasporic? The answer in line with our definition of the diasporic, is that although the non-Lebanese individuals cannot be considered as diasporic actors, these activities are indeed diasporic in so far as they were happening in the context of an event in which members of a specific diasporic community are mobilized to tackle a public issue that belongs to their home of origin. This demonstrates the interplay between the separate, but interlinked and (often) mutually relevant diasporic and transnational fields.
In the case of diasporic remittances, it is the common identity and belonging to the homeland referred to in the previous paragraph that acts as the initiating engagement factor; in the case of transnationals, the emergence of a transnational identity and a collective global (or at least, non-state-based) consciousness are generally the basis for engagement in transnational activities. Whereas it is safe to say that transnationalism is based around the idea of the dilution of borders or boundaries, and the ability of individuals to impact, affect, and be affected by issues, regardless of place or identity, boundary maintenance is fundamental to the concept of diaspora (Brubaker, 2005; Cohen, 1997). Thus, there are clear differences in the nature or aims, and the scale of the activities.
Drawing on the case of the Lebanese diaspora
Ever since the inception of Greater Lebanon, and even before its declaration by the French mandatory authorities in 1920, Lebanese emigrants dispersed in various parts of the world (i.e. Egypt, France, USA and Latin American) showed tremendous energy in relating to their place of origin. In the context of this article I would point out that, first, they played a crucial part in calling for the creation of Grand Liban (which eventually happened in 1920), lobbying authorities in the countries of their settlement and attending international peace conferences for the achievement of the same objective. Furthermore, intellectual Lebanese emigrés played a distinctive part in conceiving the idea of Grand Liban and providing in large part the historical narratives needed to justify its formation (see Njaim, 1995; Sawda, 1922, 1924).
In relation to supporting the livelihood of their kith and kin, the evidence is enormous and the financial support has been present ever since Lebanese emigrants left Lebanon, whether in the form of financial aid to family members or sending donations to support development projects in their hometowns. During the two world wars (see, Khalife’s (2017) well-documented book on the famine in Lebanon during the First World War and the role of the emigrants in combatting it, Resisting the Horrors of Famine, [1917–1918]) and in subsequent years of internal strife that Lebanon passed through (especially during the civil war between 1975 and 1990), the lifeline created by the Lebanese diaspora was crucial in supporting the livelihood and resilience of those left behind. Today there is hardly a village in Lebanon that is not marked by the influence of its emigrants in contributing to its development, whether in terms of donating to various aspects of its local economy or funding health or recreational or religious projects.
Over the years, the Lebanese diaspora has also been very active in ‘home’ politics. Engagement in ‘home’ politics took a variety of forms, which can be divided into electoral and non-electoral, and the non-electoral type can further be subdivided into measurable and non-measurable types of activity. In the case of the Lebanese diaspora, many emigrants and, to a lesser degree, their descendants, have engaged in all sorts of political activities: they lobbied governments of countries of settlement to serve a cause related to their home country; they formed groups and associations to support particular political parties in Lebanon; they organized hundreds of fundraising activities and sent large amounts of money to groups with whom they affiliated back home; more recently, they are using social media extensively to make their contact with concerned parties at home quicker and more frequent; social media is also used as a tool for political mobilization and for spreading their political views and messages instantaneously; they organized dozens of street demonstrations and sit-ins in support of particular home-related causes.
A more inclusive account of the Lebanese diaspora in ‘“home” politics’ should also cover the role of returnees in joining members of the Lebanese political elite. Many members of the political elite in Lebanon are ex-migrants who made their fortune abroad and were able to convert this ‘economic capital’ into a ‘political capital’ by either becoming members of the political elite or politically significant persons, as defined by Volker (2004). This is true not only of the social composition of the elite since the end of the civil war in 1990, but also of pre-war Lebanon. The difference between the two periods, however, is that pre-war political elite of migrant background is smaller in size than the political elite who remain in post-war Lebanon (Tabar and Maalouf, 2016).
Whether engaging in development projects or in political activities, the ‘solid’ diaspora is not only the product of practices initiated abroad and oriented ultimately towards their home of origin. It is also the product of practices and initiatives emanating from the homeland towards its emigrants abroad (Gamlen, 2008). In this vein, one should mention the diasporic policies of the Lebanese state (which, for the first time, granted the right to vote to Lebanese abroad in the parliamentary elections of May 2018), and the organization by the Ministry for Foreign Affairs and Expatriates of a series of meetings with the Lebanese diaspora abroad under the banner of ‘Lebanese Diaspora Energy’ with the aim of strengthening the ‘bonds between the Lebanese Diaspora and the land of their ancestors, Lebanon’. There were also individual and group (political, hometown associations, religious institutions, etc.) initiatives that aimed to reach out to the diaspora and sought their contributions at home on terms carefully laid out by the Minister for Foreign Affairs and Expatriates. 1
That said, what we want to stress at this point is that the interaction between the homeland and the migrants abroad does not happen in a power vacuum. Hence deploying Bourdieu’s concept of a field seems to be more than adequate to obtain more analytical power when examining the practice of a ‘solid’ diaspora. But first it must be clear that Bourdieu’s concept of a ‘field’ is initially designed to examine a reality within the nation-state. Deploying the concept of a field to further study diaspora practice raises important challenges: a diasporic field straddles more than one state (at least two) at a time when the state in the homeland has a strong tendency to be the exclusive actor in controlling and validating the intervention of the diaspora in their ‘home’ affairs. On the other hand, resources mobilized by actors in the diasporic field are to a large degree the product of their engagement in other fields pertaining to their country of settlement: in the case of the Lebanese diaspora in Australia, these resources are not only generated by the opportunity structure of the various economic, social and cultural fields present in this country, but they also include the Australian settlement policies of multiculturalism, which encourage Lebanese to uphold and build their community associations and ultimately lead the state to acknowledge their collective civic and social rights (Castles et al., 2013). This in turn enables members of the Lebanese Australian diaspora to engage in the diasporic field with more resources compared to countries where the state adopts a more assimilationist approach in dealing with its migrants.
Having argued for the need to retain the concept of a ‘solid’ diaspora, and after pointing to the existence of several migrant communities which fulfil the three basic conditions listed by Brubaker that qualify them to be classified as a solid diaspora, we now move to further discuss Bourdieu’s concepts of field and capital.
The Bourdieusian field and forms of capital
The field response is the appropriate framework within which to analyse the dynamic nature of diasporic relations. Bourdieu’s conception of the field, with its focus on the conversion-potential of capital (and the interactions between different forms of capital), the power struggles over positions within the field and, most importantly, the dominance of the state as holding the ‘monopoly of symbolic power’, makes it particularly suited to an analysis of diasporic political relations (Erel, 2010: 648).
Being comprised of unequal positions of power, the field for Bourdieu is essentially a field of struggles over ‘valued resources, and … over defining what [are] valued resources’ (Swartz, 2013: 59–60). Resources become capital when they become part of – the object of – the struggle, and thus function as a ‘social relation of power’ (Bourdieu, 1989: 375). Actors within the field are differentially able to access the field capital, and thus they compete to improve their position in the hierarchy by accumulating valuable capital, or by converting less valuable capital into more valuable forms (the struggle for valued resources).
The concurrent struggle that occurs is over which actor within the field has the power to determine the legitimacy or value of that capital (defining which resources are valued – legitimation). In Bourdieu’s conception of the field of power, which is the ‘arena of struggle among the different power fields themselves … for the right to dominate throughout the social order’, it is the state that overwhelmingly possesses this legitimation/valorization function (Swartz, 2013: 62); the state ‘holds the power to control the exchange rates of capital between the various fields’ and to recognize the value of different forms of capital (Tabar and Maalouf, 2016). As Badie and Smouts (1992) argue, transnational relations, by definition, are constructed ‘within a global space beyond the context of the nation state … and … [escape], at least partially, the control or mediating action of [s]tates’ (quoted in Marshall-Fratani, 1998: 278). Diasporic remittances are unable to escape this mediating and controlling capacity of the state: specifically, the home state. The social hierarchy that constitutes the field is built on this recognition and thus the state, as the most important tool of legitimation, is dominant for Bourdieu.
It is within this context that we situate our argument for the analytical strength of the diasporic field. In terms of diaspora, which we conceive of as processual and fluid, and constantly subject to change, it is home-states that ultimately possess this power of legitimation over the various forms of capital within the field, and specifically over ‘diasporic capitals’, which are exclusive to the diasporic field (Tabar and Maalouf, 2016). Diasporic fields – whether political, cultural or economic – constantly interact with other fields, and capital from other (non-diasporic) fields is commonly converted into ‘diasporic capital’, in the process endowing the owner of that capital with a position in the diasporic field. The actors within the diasporic field are involved in a power struggle, which can interact with, and be influenced by, other fields, including the broader transnational field, but which is more specific and homeland-oriented than any other non-domestic political field.
The logic of the diasporic field is different from the logic of other, non-diasporic fields, and thus the rules of the game (so to speak) are diaspora-specific; the rules of the game denote ‘which forms of struggle are legitimate’ (Swartz, 2013: 58). The exclusivity and specificity of diasporic capitals mean that without the use of a diaspora-specific lens, we lose not only the centrality of the home state in diasporic–homeland relations but also ignore the fact that, in the case of examining diasporic political activities for example, diasporic political remittances are the outcome of a process of power struggle between home-bound actors (specific to the diaspora) and between the latter and the political actors at ‘home’. Just as Bourdieu argues that cultural fields have specific laws that relate to, but are not reducible to, other forms of interest (political or economic), diasporic fields are influenced by, and relate to non-diasporic ones, but cannot be reduced to them. We say ‘diasporic fields’ in the plural to refer to the diversity of fields (or sub-fields) constituting the diasporic field in the broad sense of the term. That said, one could then speak of a political, a social and a literary diasporic field, to mention but a few diasporic sub-fields. ‘Each subfield, while following the overall logic of its field, also had its own internal logics, rules and regularities …’ (Grenfell, 2008: 72–3).
Although Bourdieu’s work focuses on four main forms of capital, namely social, economic, cultural and symbolic, the idea of political capital, which is not much elaborated in his writings, is an important element of our argument with respect to a diasporic field. Before discussing further the specificities of the diasporic political field, it is first necessary to briefly explain the political field. As put succinctly by Swartz (2013: 68): The political field is that arena of struggle for political power where other forms of capital are transformed into the capital of social support such as votes, public demonstrations, and so on … the political field is a power field where the explicit objective is to capture power.
More importantly, the political field is a ‘game in which the stakes are the legitimate imposition of the principles of vision and division of the social world’.
For Bourdieu, the field of power should not be confused with the political field, and the latter is not equivalent to the field of the state. That said, the political field ‘is structured to a large extent around competition for the control of the state apparatus and can include other social fields controlled to some extent by state regulations’ (Swartz, 2013: 69).
On the other hand, like any other form of capital, diasporic capital is a differentiating and stratifying social relation. The more a person accumulates this capital by spending time and effort to fully defend and advocate for its exclusive boundaries, the more dominant he/she becomes in the diasporic field. In addition, the characteristics defining the legitimate boundaries of diasporic capital at any point in time is the outcome of a struggle between diasporic actors (individuals, groups and institutions) who can be divided between dominant and dominated actors, as well as a group of challengers to the dominant diasporic capital. More importantly, the vision and the division of the diaspora concerning ‘home’ politics tend to be more or less a replication of the vision and the division imposed by the home political field, notwithstanding the fact that the political views of all actors in the field, including its challengers, are also impacted by their experience of living in the country of settlement. That said, one could not at any point in the analysis of the diasporic field ignore the fact that the ‘home’ state will always be on guard against unacceptable remittances by the diaspora.
Figure 1 shows the interactions and interstices between the transnational and diasporic fields which we have explained in the preceding paragraphs. The diasporic field, in the centre, encompasses country of origin and country of settlement while being part of (yet distinct from) broader transnational community relations. The diasporic field is separate from country of settlement and country of origin based transnational community relations, and from the wider, global transnational community relations, and its distinctiveness lies in its central placement between all three, that is, it is influenced by all of the above fields, in a way that no other field is.
A visual conceptualization of the interactions between the transnational and diasporic fields.
The field response indicates that hierarchies and power struggles are determined by capital accumulation within a given field. In the case of diasporic remittances (political, social, economic or cultural), the ‘rules of the game’ are much more influenced by the state than in the case of transnational activities. Roth (2015) argues that legitimacy of diaspora groups is decided by three sites: the international community, the government of the host state and the government of the homeland. The same sites certainly influence the success or failure of transnational groups, but with considerably differing emphasis; that is, the government of the homeland is less influential in deciding the legitimacy of transnational aims, not least because those goals are not articulated by home state ‘nationals’. It is this imbalance in emphasis that is masked by the transnational lens.
Pearlman (2014: 35) articulates this point with particular clarity, stating that, ‘[d]ifferent governmental structures affect the opportunities and constraints within which actors engage the diaspora’. It is precisely for this reason that delegitimized diasporas are more likely to foment conflict, due to the fact that they have been pushed out of the domestic opportunity structure by the relevant state actors. Similarly, diasporas which are considered legitimate can be said to be more likely to replicate the accepted domestic patterns/tactics of negotiation for example, as those actors actually present within the homeland (Roth, 2015).
As previously detailed, the formation or legitimacy of diasporas is to some degree the outcome of state and non-state engagement efforts; alternatively, the dominant interests in the state may seek to delegitimize the diaspora if its aims do not fall within the remit of state aims, or the aims of state elites. Either way, the state always seeks to lay out the terms of impact, and it has the power to do so because of its unique ability to valorize diasporic capital and set the terms for its conversion into other ‘capitals’. What is transnational is therefore significantly different from what is to do with diaspora, and the use of the ‘field’ as an analytical framework, while appropriately distinguishing between the diasporic and the transnational field, allows for adequate and proper demonstration of the fact that, in the transnational field, capital is always shifting in terms of ‘challenging’ state logic, meaning that it both escapes the tight control of a single state and struggles for the recognition of many others. Using transnationalism as a lens or framework when considering diasporic relations therefore (simultaneously) erroneously privileges and undermines relevant actors and opportunity structures. A Bourdieusian field perspective on diasporic relations and processes allows us to properly conceptualize diaspora as a ‘potential resource in the homeland’ (Butler, 2001: 206).
Concluding remarks
This article sets out to demonstrate the pitfalls and limitations of studying diaspora within the broad, non-specific and overarching lens of transnationalism. Our examination of the existing literature on transnationalism and diaspora demonstrates a clearly muddled field of study, in which the two realities are not distinctly identified, and the nuances and particularities of each are, more often than not, masked by sweeping generalizations.
The ‘field’ response has thus allowed us to conceptualize diaspora in ways that are not possible when studying diasporic processes using the transnational lens. The use of a separate ‘diasporic field’ sees diaspora as a process involving shifting and contested power relations, and struggles for capital in a home-state-centric opportunity structure – all of which is lost when the diasporic field is not considered as denoting a unique and particular reality. The transnational lens does not privilege the sending state, and ultimately results in an erroneous conceptualization of the processes occurring within the contested diasporic field, in which the sending state necessarily retains greater significance and power to influence/legitimize contested diasporic capital. Nor does it allow for the proper recognition of diaspora as a contested resource in the sending state and society as well as among members and individuals of the diaspora. On the contrary, the transnational lens gives equal or greater influence to the receiving state and society, in a way that is not applicable or suitable to the study of diaspora, in which the sending state invariably retains more influence, and thus skews analysis. In applying the field perspective, we have been able to show the centrality of the sending state, as both the target for the diasporic field actors and as the ‘central agent for valorizing the diasporic capital specific to the diasporic field’ (Tabar and Maalouf, 2016).
The ‘diasporic field’ provides a degree of clarity, depth and specificity that is not currently present in the literature. Not only does it enrich the analytical value of the study of diasporic processes and relations but also differentiating between the diasporic and the transnational goes some way to improving the analytical value of transnationalism itself, which has been stretched to the point of uselessness in many respects, by the tendency to consider each and every global process as ‘transnational’.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
Many thanks for the great assistance I have received in the process of writing this article from Cate Smith, a research assistant at the Lebanese American University and a student in the MA Program in Migration Studies at the same university.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
