Listening through a genocide

Morten Poulsen

Listening through a genocide

 

With audibility, or rather the lack thereof, comes auditory poverty. And where
there is poverty, there is discontent. And where there is discontent, there is
potential an uprising. – Nina Dragicevic, Auditory Poverty and Its Discontents
(2024), Errant Bodies Press DE

 

In the world of music, the concept of acoustics relates to the physical and material conditions
a given space has or does not have. Typically, the goal is to achieve “good acoustics,” where
we are able to hear all the details and nuances in the music. Moreover, special acoustic
conditions like reverberation or echo can contribute to the experience of the music. The
writer and artist Brandon LaBelle has argued for an expanded understanding of acoustics,
pointing out how acoustics also help shape the framework for how we navigate and
socialise, how we hear and are being heard. According to LaBelle, this leads to a
consideration of “acoustics as a politics through which struggles over recognition and rights,
belonging and access are waged.”(1)

 

In this essay, I will use this expanded understanding of acoustics and place it as a lens
through which we can see — or listen to — the demonstrations, protests, call-outs, etc., both
offline and online, that we have seen in Denmark since October 2023, in connection with the
mobilisation for a ceasefire in Gaza and the West Bank, and the subsequent response from
the Danish authorities. My aim is to position these activities as an exercise of the acoustics
that LaBelle describes, through which we can examine not-listening as a form of power.
Finally, I will offer some reflections on listening and relate them to the situation in Denmark,
speculating on alternative frameworks for political participation.

 

On the Efforts Not to Listen
Since October 2023, I, along with millions of others, have followed social media, where
Palestinian civilians live-stream the atrocities they are subjected to by Israeli forces in Gaza.
It is almost the only way we can stay updated since Israel has either banned journalists from
entering Gaza or killed those who were there. Israel has also repeatedly shut down the
internet to try to keep the atrocities in Gaza hidden — atrocities they have been accused of
at the International Criminal Court: organising a genocide against the Palestinian people.

 

The many months of horrors(2) in Gaza have led tens of thousands of people in Denmark to 2
mobilise into a popular movement, demanding the Danish government condemn Israel’s
actions and call for an immediate ceasefire; to stop all cooperation with institutions and
companies in Israel; to halt the export of Danish military technology to Israel; and to
recognise Palestine as a state. Gathered in record-sized demonstrations with banners,
drums, and chants, activists and citizens have protested outside government buildings, the
Israeli Embassy in Copenhagen, Danish Broadcasting Cooperation, and Danish companies
that produce and sell military technology to Israel or that form the infrastructure for arms
trading with Israel. Students set up the Rafa Garden tent camp in The Secret Garden at the
University of Copenhagen to appeal for dialogue with the university about its cooperation
with educational institutions in Israel. Activists went on hunger strikes to gain the politicians’
attention outside the Danish Parliament, Christiansborg. Artists held demonstrations in front
of museums. Many have written emails to elected officials and signed several citizen
petitions. Many have authored articles and posts on social media, written directly to
politicians’ profiles, and tried to call them out by tagging them in posts and stories. In short,
there have been countless attempts to get the government to listen and act, to stop the
horror being inflicted on Palestinians.

 

These attempts have largely been ignored or dismissed by the government’s ministers and
most Danish politicians. In various ways, they have expressed that these efforts are not the
right way to conduct a democratic conversation. They express fear of “polarisation.” They
are afraid of the “tone in the debate.”

 

A concrete example of this occurred in May 2024, when Foreign Minister Lars Løkke was
interrupted by protesters during a visit to the University of Copenhagen, who called for him
to stop Denmark’s arms exports to Israel. Løkke later posted on Instagram(3), complaining
about being interrupted, writing: “We must never stop talking to each other in Denmark.” But
the movement for peace has tried to engage Løkke in dialogue for months, using the
methods I have already described. During this period, Løkke has not engaged in
conversations with the movement. Moreover, Løkke, through his powerful position as
Foreign Minister, has far more resources and opportunities than the protesters to speak and
control a conversation, including access to the press.

 

By focusing on the tone and manner in which political participation is expressed, the ruling
class exercises a form of auditory disciplining over the popular movement, creating
frustration and experiences of being overheard and ignored.

 

On Power Positions and Silence as an Ideal
In The Dissonance of Democracy, professor in political science Susan Bickford emphasises
that both speaking and listening are central activities of citizenship, and that politics is about
the dynamics between the two. But this dynamic can be risky, especially for those in
positions of power. Because listening involves giving attention to the other party, it opens the
possibility that something else may happen: a new insight or a new conclusion, which
requires action or change. The dynamic between speaking and listening is risky for dominant
forces because the outcome may be solutions that do not align with an already laid-out
direction.

 

For further exploration of the intersection between power and listening, it may be useful to
examine what is understood by listening. “Listening” often evokes ideas of empathy,
compassion, respect, and care, followed by silence, perhaps even peace and quiet, as
conditions for “good” listening. When I participate in conversations on listening, it is also the
desire for silence that is often mentioned first. But with the idealisation of silence, peace, and
quiet as conditions for listening, I believe we must be aware that ideals can easily alienate
that or those who do not fit; that which is considered noise by some. I would argue that there
is not a big leap from the desire for peace and quiet for listening, and then to demands for
order and the avoidance of noise, conflict, and non-hygge.(4)

 

Although Danish politicians do not specifically use the word “silence,” their auditory
disciplining of citizens reflects a perspective where one is not worthy of being listened to
unless the manner in which one expresses oneself is “orderly,” “peacefully,” or “calmly.” This
is despite the fact that “calm” forms of protest have indeed taken place, but are mostly
ignored by most politicians (such as the aforementioned hunger strikes and even the weekly
demonstrations with thousands of participants). It is becoming increasingly clear that the
ideal of orderly, non-disruptive, and non-noisy political participation benefits the powerful, as
this kind of participation is easier to ignore than when it is noisy and disruptive.

 

The Danish government, in line with governments in other countries, has chosen to ignore
the movement for peace. They have avoided listening to it and attacked its tone. They do not
want to listen because it may lead to recognition of the horrors. They do not want to listen because it may lead to a challenge to a laid-out direction: a direction where violations of
human rights are legitimised when it strengthens profit, alliances, and power. It is a direction
rooted in imperialism, capitalism, and racism.

To imagine a better acoustics for political participation, I believe that ideals and notions of
listening must be challenged and developed. Perhaps it is time to cultivate the noise. The
noise as multifaceted, disorderly, and filled with conflict. But also the noise as a volume that
cannot be ignored.

 

– Morten Poulsen, Copenhagen, September 2024

 

References:

Brandon Labelle, Acoustic Justice – Listening, Performativity, and the Work of
Reorientation (2021), Bloomsbury

Susan Bickford, Dissonance of Democracy – Listening, Conflict, and Citizenship
(1996), Cornell University Press

 

1) LaBelle, B. Acoustic Justice, s. 11

2) The word “horrors” is, of course, an understatement. I use this word here to describe not only Israel’s violations of the Palestinians’ human rights but also that which is not as readily registered: the intimate human traumas and the destruction of culture and nature. The full extent of the damage is not yet fully revealed, and we will see the effects of Israel’s warfare far into the future.

3) https://www.instagram.com/reel/C7hKEGetNne/? utm_source=ig_web_copy_link&igsh=MzRlODBiNWFlZA==

4) Hygge is a Danish word embedded deeply in Danish culture that describes a cozy, contented mood evoked by comfort and conviviality. Non-hygge, or the act of “breaking” the hygge, can mean to say or do something that can be socially or politically deemed controversial. Hygge often relies on some form of unspoken normative consensus, in which a controversial statement “ruins the mood” and creates discomfort. Hygge is sometimes a tool for social control that can be used to dismiss political statements if they “ruin the mood”. For example, when protestors disrupted the speech of Danish Prime Minister Mette Frederiksen, at the International Women’s Day in March 2024, calling for a ceasefire in Palestine, the situation was described as “uncomfortable” by minister for culture Jacob Engel-Schmidt. However the situation might have felt for the politicians present at the event, we can note that both Engel-Schmidt or Frederiksen decried the method of the protestors and didn’t engage with the political message.