The Gendered Aesthetics of Danger in Post-War Sierra Leone − and Beyond

Based on ethnographic field research in post-war Sierra Leone and drawing on ideas from Pierre Bourdieu’s social theory, this paper introduces a concept of ‘dangerousness’ that offers promising perspectives for future research, also beyond and/or in comparison with the Sierra Leonean case. This concept conceives of ‘dangerousness’ as a quality ascribed to those who appear to belong to ‘dangerous’ collectives, e.g. as former fighters/ex-combatants. Such ascriptions may be based on personal experiences, rumours, long-standing prejudices, statistics − or a combination of the above. They enable pre-emptive measures to control or contain the ‘dangerous ones’. Such measures can range from everyday vigilance to rehabilitative policies (e.g. reintegration programmes) or systematic violence. During field research in a large provincial town in Sierra Leone, I encountered a ‘gendered aesthetics of danger’: my interlocutors ‘recognised’ danger based on ideas about what dangerousness looked like. These ideas were based on experiences of war-time violence but had already become habitualized – in the sense that they were no longer regularly reflected upon or discussed. Generalised expectations of dangerousness were directed at male adolescents and adult men who ‘looked like’ ex-combatants in the eyes of Sierra Leoneans who had lived through the war (1991-2002). In addition, even children and youth without clear memories of war-time violence shared this habituative ‘knowledge’ about the ‘dangerous ones’. The result was a situation in which a considerable portion of the male urban population ran the risk of being regarded as dangerous. Expectations of danger were applied to boys and men who appeared to live ‘rough’ lives − be it because of their occupation (motorcycle-taxi drivers, car-wash boys), apparent joblessness (hanging around the market areas), actual or alleged addiction to drugs (frequenting so called ‘ghettos’ where palm wine and marihuana were being sold) or just because they arrived as unattached strangers in an unfamiliar neighbourhood. Boys and men who ‘looked dangerous’ according to these criteria were regularly regarded with suspicion and vigilance. It was said that they were ready to do anything, commit any kind of crime (such as armed robbery or rape) because they were ‘used to it’ – because of their alleged war-time past. They could not count on people’s hospitality and ran the risk of being severely beaten or killed by neighbourhood watch groups. These findings from Sierra Leone offer useful entry points for comparative research. They can be treated as one specific instance of the broader phenomenon of ‘dangerousness’ that we find in societies across the globe, in the global North and South. The above suggested concept invites and enables comparative perspectives on ‘dangerousness’ and its consequences for those who become regarded as ‘dangerous ones’ – including e.g. police violence against young black men in the US (‘black lives matter’) and suspicions and vigilantism against male migrants/refugees (or those suspected to be migrants/refugees) in the EU.