The Six Elements Air Is Made Of: Atmospheric Pressure
The Fight We All Fight, The Dance We All Dance
“We are more dependent on animals than they are on us: animals are our past, whereas we are their death.” (1)
“Do we consent to presume that every murder, every transgression of the commandment ‘‘Thou shalt not kill’’ concerns only man (a question to come), and that, in sum, there are crimes only ‘‘against humanity’’?” (2)
Resisting by Belly Dancing
During her residency at the Hellerau European Centre for the Arts, dancer and choreographer Gizem Aksu was introduced to the story of Johann ‘Rukeli’ Trollmann thanks to the ring-shaped monument titled ‘9841’ placed in the garden of the institution. This acquaintance, which began in Dresden in 2020, later evolved into a more profound relationship once Aksu migrated to Berlin, eventually giving rise to a sort of imaginary friendship between the two. That imaginary friendship constituted the source of inspiration for the artist’s idea of a “justice fight,” such as she shares with us in her “documentary short dance film” 9/8fight41: A 9/8 fight for all of us (2022).
Johann “Rukeli” Trollmann, who gave rise to both the concept of justice fight and the documentary, was a boxer of Sinti-Roman descent who lived between 1907 and 1944, and achieved significant success in his field. Rukeli, whose fighting style was utterly unique, closely resembling dancing, faced all sorts of discriminations by the Nazi regime throughout his boxing career on the grounds that he “boxed dancing like a Gypsy,” to the point of being arbitrarily stripped of his championship title, despite having earned it by prevailing over his opponent, and compelled to accept a rematch. (3) In fact, the exact event which inspired Aksu's film as well as the justice fight idea was the “resistance-performance” which Rukeli opposed to the invalidation and reiteration of his championship bout in 1933. Rukeli attended this rematch, which he knew he would be made to lose, wearing flour on his face and dyeing his hair blonde, as a criticism intended against the Aryan stereotype then imposed on society. Spurred by Rukeli's “dancing fighting,” and how the latter brought resistance-performance to the ring, Aksu decided to blend boxing with dancing herself in order to pay homage to Rukeli's unique style, which owed him to be discriminated against, resulting in a hybrid form that marvellously fuses fighting with dancing/belly dancing. As it happens, Aksu stresses that belly dancing provided her with something that met the need for roots which she felt when migrating to Berlin, and elaborates in eye-opening fashion on the connection between belly dancing and root growing in her documentary. According to the latter, in Romani dances, the dancer sends their hips downwards towards the ground rather upwards towards the sky, directing the energy contained in their root chakra toward the earth, thus letting go of emotions accumulated in the body and releasing them into the ground. In this respect, Aksu states her conviction that “the strong connection between Romani dance and the earth, and roots, stems from this specific physicality,” and further argues that the Romani, oftentimes associated with rootlessness due to their nomadic nature, actually “redefine the entire meaning of roots and rootedness through their bodies and dances.”
When Gizem Aksu extends the inspiration she derived from Rukeli – with whom she was introduced in Dresden, and became more profoundly befriended in Berlin – to the streets of Istanbul, a bridge is built, connecting Rukeli's time with the present, the discrimination he was the victim of and those faced by individuals in nowadays’ world, giving rise to a many-branched, multi-faceted, far-reaching struggle for rights, and a performative form of resistance. Here, in Istanbul, Aksu is joined by three dancers who, “like Rukeli, were judged, harmed, and forced to pay a heavy price for their identity through their bodies, but, again as Rukeli did, use movement/dance in order to heal, express themselves, and foster social cohabitation.” (4) These dancers, as introduced to us in the film's description, are “Gizem Nalbant, born and raised in Sulukule, a neighbourhood later heavily submitted to urban renewal; Banu Açıkdeniz, who pursues research on feminist body politics; and Sema Semih, a long-time volunteer in the LGBTQI+ movement.” When, on top of the performance, displayed on the streets of Fikirtepe by four artists whose struggles find their utmost expression in their dances – where fighting and dancing, and dancing and resistance are deeply intertwined – the warm, welcoming attitude of the neighbourhood’s inhabitants towards these dancers piles up, along with the enthusiastic participation of the Romani children from the area in this performance, the formation of both physical and non-bodily relations between various “others”, and the dialogue established, a century apart, between Rukeli and the people who became aware of his existence on this occasion, a full-fledged “justice fight” blossoms. Thus, as the struggle of those numerous individuals who are discriminated against because of their bodies, identities, or certain facets of their identities, who find the appropriate expression for their search, anger, reaction, resistance or lament through their bodies, who heal themselves or settle their accounts with the violence they have been the target of simply for being who they are through dancing, becomes better aggregated, and stronger as a result, it also sends out a call on all of us to take part in it. Consequently, not only are bridges built between distinct time periods, geographic settings, and seemingly disparate forms of violence and discrimination, but forms of resistance also come into contact with, and strengthen, one another. The words uttered by Banu Açıkdeniz towards the end of the documentary perfectly epitomise this collective form of resistance: "The search for justice that fuels numerous struggles is not through yet. On the contrary, it keeps being kindled over and over again.” And, Açıkdeniz adds with regard to Rukeli's inspirational resistance-performance, “This fight of his, which he so beautifully and creatively turns into a dance, is in fact the fight we all fight, the dance we all dance.”
That being said, is this justice fight – creating a language of its own through the intertwinement of dance and fight – truly the fight/dance we all perform, or could we make it more “ours” still, by expanding that ring’s inclusiveness? Who are the individuals we actually refer to by the phrase “we all”? Or, if we were to raise the same question from a slightly different perspective: while pursuing our own struggle for justice, against the discriminations which we suffer, could we in fact be sparking, through our daily practices, a range of other discriminations, and/or, through our actions, reproducing specific forms of violence?
The Justice Fight of Those Who Meet on the Same Ring
In 1956, the daily newspaper Akşam published a series of interviews titled “Among Multi-Child Families”. Oktay Rifat, one of the writers who conducted interviews with families in the scope of this series, began one of his articles with the following observation: "Humans are the source of a country’s wealth. Everything we broadly recognise as sources of wealth, i.e. the soil, mines, or the fish, animals, and forest products which nature so bountifully bestows upon us, wouldn’t obtain the least value unless human hands touched them.” (5) If only such a statement – millions of miles off the truth, whichever way one might try and look at it – was but an isolated figment, exclusive to Oktay Rifat. However, regrettably, it is merely one among the many, workaday incorporations of an excessively entrenched speech, spanning a wide range of fields, extending from philosophy to religion. Despite its constituting ‘the most saddening of all myths’, (6) the anthropocentric view according to which everything that exists in nature does so for the benefit of human beings and the value of ‘things’ is prescribed on the basis of that benefit, somehow manages to forever prolong its existence. The shape it assumes may change, or its scope of legitimacy, but this view never entirely disappears. It keeps wreaking destruction, yet it itself is never destroyed. Never mind our fooling ourselves into believing in the lie that bounty pours forth from our hands, we, by our erroneous decisions and selfish actions, forever continue to bring the death of other species on the planet. So long as we keep failing to grasp the reality that we are but a component of nature, not its ruler, and that we merely share this planet along with countless other living beings, possessing rights equal to ours, neither will we find peace ourselves, nor will we leave other living beings in peace.
As the ever-increasing number of natural disasters occurring across the globe, and our proportionately rising eco-anxieties keep reminding us, the climate crisis is growing deeper by the day. Meanwhile, we keep releasing copious amounts of greenhouse gases into the atmosphere with our own hands, those very hands which, as far as we claim, bestow value upon nature. As is common knowledge, both the proportions of the gases – greenhouse included – that make up the atmosphere and the pressure which they exert on bodies are vitally important to all living beings on the planet. Moreover, we know that various factors, such as temperature and altitude, have a direct effect on atmospheric pressure. However, due to global climate change, those effects are currently occurring beyond normal, and it is no longer a secret that only much worst is to be expected. For instance, the excessive warming caused by the accumulation of greenhouse gases released in the atmosphere leads the gap between observed high and low pressures to expand, resulting in our experiencing increasingly fierce winds, hurricanes and tornadoes. Furthermore, we now live under the constant threat that the high levels of methane trapped frozen underneath the seabed – which can only remain intact in such a state under specific high pressure and low temperature conditions – be released due to the warming of the oceans or drop in pressure (resulting from the melting of the ice sheets and the consequential rise of the continents). Nevertheless, leaving aside the countless problems related to climate change which we are currently experiencing, as well as those that await us in a future which, unfortunately, can no longer be considered anything like remote, I would like to draw attention to one specific dimension of our detrimental contribution as humans to greenhouse gas emissions.
Within the scope of current discussions on the climate crisis and debates on greenhouse gas emissions caused by human actions, for some reason, one particular issue remains oftentimes glossed over, and even trivialised or steered clear of, despite its now blatant undeniability. I am speaking of the share of the livestock farming industry/activities in ecological destructions. While we seem capable of discussing such issues as, say, the harmful consequences of fossil fuel consumption or the transport sector with relative ease and on a rather broad basis, we appear somehow distinctly reluctant to identify the irreversible consequences on global climate change of our exploitative relationship with non-human animals, that is, the many ways in which we utilise animals for our own “benefit”. Yet, numerous scientific studies and reports substantiate the fact that livestock farming activities are one of the main causes of human-induced greenhouse gas emissions in the atmosphere. First of all, the data in our possession tells us that animals raised for human consumption are the primary source of methane emissions, a gas known to be a lot more dangerous than carbon dioxide. What’s more, this only constitutes one dimension of the problem. On top of this, a considerable amount of the available land surfaces, suitable for habitation and agriculture, is allocated either to the raising of animals directly intended for human consumption, or to the cultivation of the fodder required to feed them. A considerable portion of the world’s rainforests is currently being destroyed for similar reasons, namely, clearing room for livestock farming activities. As a result, not only is carbon dioxide being released into the atmosphere in huge amounts at once, but the plant and animal species found in these ecosystems become endangered, and oftentimes exterminated. Besides, a disconcerting volume of water resources is being squandered for the sake of practices necessitated by the livestock farming industry.
In fact, the livestock farming industry’s is a convoluted spectrum of consequences, either directly or indirectly giving rise to a vast array of problems, ranging from deforestation to the extinction of various species, the depletion of water resources, and famine. Besides, we ought to keep in mind that this state of things is not limited to livestock farming activities performed on land: our manners of putting to profit other important creatures in the ecosystem, such as marine wildlife, or bees, constitute yet other significant contributing factors in the same destruction.
In order to sum things up, so as not to stray too far off-course from the main point of the present discussion, it appears safe to state that the deleterious effects of greenhouse gases emissions into the atmosphere as a result of human activities now strikingly form part of the daily life of most among us. Yet, the fact that livestock farming activities constitute one of the primary causes of these emissions is still being voiced as though in an undertone, often only by very narrow circles, consisting of animal rights activists and vegan individuals. However, if we wish to bring substantial changes, we must raise and discuss these issues in much louder and clearer fashion, and in such a way that be accessible to everyone.
Then again, do we really need all of this information in order to question and put an end to our exploitative relation to animals? Although the ecological dimension of the problem is undoubtedly disquieting in many respects, aren’t the main motives that ought to prompt us to reassess our relations with non-human animals, and instate a fair rapport between us and other species, already available to us as it is?
In his book The Animal That Therefore I Am, Jacques Derrida resorts to the analogy of ‘genocide’ when touching on the livestock farming industry. On the other hand, as he himself points out, this, that is, the genocide implemented against non-human animals, obeys a different logic from that implemented against humans. Indeed, that particular genocide does not only involve the slaughter of animals; it also encompasses the process of their fabrication, by human hands, for human beings. Ranging from the food to the textile industry, from medicine to cosmetics, from the entertainment industry to transport, we enslave, exploit and slaughter animals across endless fields. We even go as far as to strip them of their basic right to live a life wherein they possess control over their own bodies. So much so that we even forge narratives according to which we, humans, turn issues that essentially revolve around the sufferance of non-human animals into suitable material for our own victimisation. To provide a local example, the extent of poverty in Turkey is typically measured with reference to such a gauge as insufficient access to animal protein. Accordingly, ahead of every single election in Turkey, problems like inflation rates and livelihood are unescapably discussed on the basis of activities rested on animal exploitation, such as the rise in meat prices or the increasing difficulty in accessing dairy products. As for the fact that we do not even possess the right to consume these products in the first place, that continues to elude our field of vision, hearing or comprehension. Consonantly, the rightful grievances of increasingly impoverished pensioners are clouded by their double standard complaint that their budgets are not sufficient for them to procure an animal to slaughter for the Feast of Sacrifice.
In closing, there is no doubt that we now have to urgently reassess our relations with nature and animals in light of the climate crisis which we have brought about. However, I believe that what is truly necessary, and precious, before even delving into crisis-induced requisites, is that we hastily and comprehensively transform our manners of relating to animals by espousing a rights-based perspective, that is to say, by paying heed to animal singularities, by acknowledging the rights each animal possesses as an individual. Turning back to the justice fight which brings us all to convene on the same ring, I must state how dear I find this idea, stemming from Gizem Aksu's imaginary friendship with Rukeli, and earning a distinctive new layer with every additional participant. Not only do I comprehend the fact that Rukeli's ring embodies a field of social struggle, but I am also quite fond of how being present on that ring, with our dancing and fighting aimed against the discriminations we face, brings us to converge with each other, and strengthens our solidarity. Then again, I suggest that we expand the ambit of that ring. What could prevent us from conceiving of this ring not only as a field of social struggle, but as the entire planet we live on, and from broadening the justice fight into forming a holistic state of agency, greeting all species and individuals found on earth from a rights-based perspective? Ultimately, reflecting on such forms of violence as discrimination, marginalisation and exploitation simply cannot be done while overlooking the root of these forms of violence, the very form of discrimination which both contains and lies at the core of all other forms thereof. Effectively calling into question the violence which we endure through our own bodies can only be achieved by answering for the domination which we establish over other bodies. As we identify and make reparations not only for the discriminations which we endure but for those we perpetrate as well, so our dancing prospers and thrives. By acknowledging, rather than devising animals as silent and obedient masses, that they, too, with their specific voices, bodies, unique forms of expression and resistance, are the inhabitants of that ring, by standing side-by-side as all species and individuals, not only will our voices resonate much louder, but so will our justice fight be more sincere. Only then will we have become able to forge our own methods of resistance/healing – those we either know of or choose – by belly dancing inside Rukeli’s ring, against the tyrants and the perpetrators of violence who oppress and marginalise us. Such is how we will have created, this time by actually being in touch with our roots, the conditions that will allow us to define what roots, and being rooted, mean. We need only expand the inclusiveness of our dance, and carry an integral justice fight to the ring, and it will not be long before we see that the ecological outcomes of this action render the ring more habitable for all of us.
This website uses cookies to provide you with a better service. To view the cookies we use and to learn more, please visit our Privacy and Cookie Policy page.