Eve L. Mullen

Postmodernism and Social Praxis: Attempting to Put Foucault inAction Throughthe Theology of Sharon Welch

Whereas the interpreter is obliged to go to thedepth ofthings, like anexcavator, the moment of interpretation [genealogy] is like anoverview, fromhigher and higher up, which allows the depth to be laid out infront of him ina more and more profound visibility; depth is resituated as anabsolutelysuperficial secret.⁽¹⁸⁾

So those are the changes, and I try to show thosechanges...⁽¹⁹⁾

In Communities of Resistance and Solidarity, as wellas in A FeministEthic of Risk, Sharon D. Welch sets forth a liberationtheology in which thedeconstructive processes of Michel Foucault are key. Her theologyis anamalgam of Foucault's poststructuralist concepts and liberationtheology'saction-oriented motivation. Welch claims the genealogical methodsof Foucaultare ideal motivators, urging the activist to political involvement.However,Michel Foucault's genealogy was not intended for such pragmaticapplications. Foucault's purpose in writing genealogies was neveraction-oriented. He onlyset out to "show those changes." By definition, genealogy neverrests in onediscourse or on one "truth." Foucault, as an "interpreter,"emphasizes thenecessary tension between keeping distance from historicaldiscourse andawareness of one's inescapable position in historical discourse. In short,the genealogist can never rest on his or her laurels: seemingbases of"truth" are actually constantly changing historical constructions. WhileWelch claims not only to possess this type of awareness, but alsoto recognizeits absolute necessity for her theology, she is in danger ofdefeating her owngoals: with no solid foundations, no fixed truths, on which tobaseliberation theology's arguments, how can her action-orientedmethodology befruitful? Welch claims to have put Foucault in action: howaccurate is thisclaim? How effective are Foucault's methods, never intended forpracticaluse, for Welch's liberation theology? The purpose of this paper isto examinethese questions and the accuracy of Welch's treatment of Foucault'sconceptsby exploring the relevant works of Sharon Welch and the works ofFoucaultreferenced therein.

In Communities of Resistance and Solidarity, Welchpresents an adamantargument for the similarities between the work of Michel Foucaultand the workof liberation theologians before her. Welch claims not only topossessFoucault's suspicious awareness, or "skepticism," as she refers toit, butalso claims its absolute necessity for her theology (85). Sheattempts to betrue to Foucault's methods: skepticism is the engine for thevehicle ofcontinuing analyses. However, Welch fails to acknowledge theradical natureof Foucault's concept of skepticism, as opposed to the concept sheutilizesfor her theology. Foucault's is a drastic suspicion, a total andcontinuousskepticism which repeatedly serves as an alarm to the genealogist. Itspurpose is to make the scholar cognizant of the undeniable linkbetween powerand knowledge. It is a reminder that there exists no absoluteTruth on whicha discourse confidently may be established. In Madness andCivilization: AHistory of Insanity in the Age of Reason, Foucault traces thehistory of whatis deemed "the liberation of the insane" in a manner which supportsthistheory. He documents the work of Pinel and Tuke, considered to bethefounding fathers of the civilized, kind asylum, and reveals thechanges theyinstigated as mere substitutes for preexisting methods ofcontrol of theinsane: no progress in the betterment of treatments isdiscernible. Foucaultwrites:

Confinement [of the insane] hid away unreason, andbetrayedtheshame it aroused; but it explicitly drew attention to madness,pointed to it. If, in the case of unreason, the chief intentionwas to avoid scandal, in the case of madness that intention was toorganize it. A strange contradiction: the classical ageenveloped madness in a total experience of unreason; it reabsorbedits particular forms, which the Middle Ages and the Renaissancehad clearly individualized into a general apprehension in whichmadness consorted indiscriminately with all the forms of unreason(70).

Pinel's science gave birth to a new knowledge of insanity whichdid nothingmore than exercise a new power over those deemed insane. Foucaultconcludes:

Since the end of the eighteenth century, the life ofunreasonnolonger manifests itself except in the lightning-flash of workssuch as those of Holderlin, of Nerval, of Nietzsche, or ofArtaud--forever irreducible to those alienations that can be cured,resisting by their own strength that gigantic moral imprisonmentwhich we are in the habit of calling, doubtless by antiphrasis,the liberation of the insane by Pinel and Tuke (278).

One method of control was simply replaced by another equallyflawedmethod. The history of the asylum is one of judgment, punishment,andconfinement: the asylum is an institution of control. "Liberation" thusbecomes a comical term for Foucault. In his musings, his brand ofcynicism isclearly detected. Also in Madness and Civilization, thephilosopher'spower/knowledge link becomes total.

In Welch's action-oriented theology, the concept of suspiciontakes on,not surprisingly, a more practical character. Her use ofFoucault's conceptsseems to ask, "Why did Foucault write? To what end?" Welch ismost likelyinfluenced by the contemporary feminist "hermeneutic of suspicion,"aninterpretive tool made commonly known by ElizabethSchüssler-Fiorenza. Thistype of suspicion, also primarily concerned with political action,is askepticism less radical than Foucault's.⁽²⁰⁾ Welch, in the context of heraim-oriented theology, cannot be as extreme with the concept, forshe would thenbe in danger of ruining liberation theology's goals with the verytool sheuses to support it. Foucault's methodology, with its ceaselesscriticism,allows no stopping points at which a pragmatic application likeWelch's candisembark. Welch's liberation theology requires getting off thebus andstanding on firm ground; Foucault's genealogy, perpetually inmotion, allowsno such stopping points.

Welch also claims that Foucault's awareness of the changingdeterminations of what is considered to be "true" at any given timeresults inFoucault being committed to political action. She writes:

First, Foucault is aware of the repressive role ofostensiblyliberating forms of discourse. His awareness is akin to thatwhich inspires liberation theologians' critiques of academicWestern theology and of standard economic and political policiesof development. Second, Foucault is committed to challengingoppression (he writes of the insurrection of subjugatedknowledges) and is thoroughly self-critical (Communities23).

Welch is correct in noting the philosopher's thoroughself-critique. However, the remainder of her characterization is questionable. Welchacknowledges that Foucault never expounded any plan or program forpoliticalaction, but even so, her attribution of activism to him is stillinaccurate. Foucault is aware, of course, of how operating discourses appearliberating. His main interests lie in the phenomenon of knowledges about humanbeings andhow power tied to those knowledges acts upon human beings. Butsimplyuncovering the operations of power and resisting them constitutesneither asolution nor an inspiration to action for Foucault. What doesinspire actionis the sense of threat born from the exposing analyses. In aninterview withPaul Rabinow, when asked about activism and the prospect of findingcontemporary solutions through his examinations of historicalproblems, thephilosopher responds:

No! I am not looking for an alternative; you can'tfind thesolution for a problem in the solution of another problem raisedat another moment by other people. You see, what I want to do isnot the history of solutions...I would like to do a genealogy ofproblems, of problématiques. My point is not thateverything isbad, but that everything is dangerous, then we always havesomething to do. So my position leads...to a hyper- andpessimistic activism. I think that the ethico-political choice wehave to make every day is to determine which is the main danger(Foucault Reader 343).

Again, Foucault's activism is characterized by a constantskepticismbordering on cynicism. His treatment of the "repressivehypothesis,"originally a Nietzschean concept, in The History of Sexuality,Volume I: AnIntroduction serves to further illumine his perspective. Foucault opposes therepressive hypothesis which, understood in terms of an absoluteTruth,postulates that a real truth can be found in direct opposition topower. PartTwo of The History of Sexuality, Volume I is devoted tothis concept. Foucault documents the discourse on sex in the twentieth century asa primeexample. The Victorian Era, viewed as an age of overt sexualrepression,became the enemy discourse: it was assumed, perhaps notconsciously, that thepath to sexual freedom and truth could be found in directresistance to it. Foucault writes:

...sex has not ceased to provoke a kind of generalizeddiscursiveerethism. And these discourses on sex did not multiply apart fromor against power, but in the very space and as the means of itsexercise... From the singular imperialism that compels everyoneto transform their sexuality into a perpetual discourse, to themanifold mechanisms which, in the areas of economy, pedagogy,medicine, and justice, incite, extract, distribute, andinstitutionalize the sexual discourse, an immense verbosity iswhat our civilization has required and organized (History ofSexuality 32-33).

In the attempt to overcome the powerful control of theVictoriandiscourse, the opposition only creates a new, equally controllingone. Notruth is uncovered, and no exit from the existing discourse isachieved: thebeast is still present; it just wears a different mask. Hereagain,"liberation" becomes a comical appellation for Foucault. This isthe failureof the repressive hypothesis. If one resists power, one does notnecessarilyresist repression, and certainly does not find freedom or "truth." Foucaultwrites further of his contemporary example:

What needs to be situated, therefore, is not thethreshold ofanew rationality whose discovery was marked by Freud--or someoneelse--but the progressive formation (and also the transformations)of that "interplay of truth and sex" which was bequeathed to us bythe nineteenth century, and which we may have modified, but,lacking evidence to the contrary, have not rid ourselves of(56-57).

While there might appear to be several discourses operating,in realitythere is only one, supported by the illusion of many. One flawedtruth canonly be replaced by another equally flawed truth. There is nohistoricalprogression in the Enlightenment sense, no gradual perfection ofknowledgethrough time; there is only the fall of a problematic discourse andthe riseof another. The product of Foucault's exposing analyses is neithera solutionto a problem nor a promise of one. The "hyper- and pessimisticactivism" ofwhich he speaks is characterized by this lack of certainty andoptimism. Motivation to political activism is not a part of Foucault'sgenealogy.

The activism Welch seeks to generate is of a different flavor. Shespeaks of a Christian truth on which to ground one's actions andmotivations: she repeatedly refers to Christianity's "just," "loving," and"liberating" Godas the grounds for liberation theology, and her criticisms ofChristianity'shistorical and contemporary apathy question the seriousness withwhichChristians regard those very attributes of God. She writes:

To avoid a too facile faith in the power of liberation,wetheologians of liberation must ask about the meaning of the crossand resurrection, about the reality of a redeeming, liberating Godin light of the barbarities of the twentieth century: theholocaust, Vietnam, Hiroshima-Nagasaki, sexism, racism, thenuclear arms race, the torture of political prisoners(Communities5).

Most succinctly, "What does it mean to believe in a God ofjustice inthe face of unthinkable injustice?" (6). Welch's criticisms of theChristiantradition point out its failure to join the ideal with reality,namely a justGod with practices of justice. In her vernacular, she "exposes theambiguityof Christianity's God-language" (7). Welch operates from within atheologicalframework. It is the nature of her work to contextualize action inChristiantheology. This framework necessitates adhering to sometranscendental Truth: there is no way around it. And it is here that Welch creates thegreatestcontradiction within her own work. As a liberation theologian, shemust holdto some Truth. As a deconstructionist, she cannot. The methods ofthedeconstructionists can provide no foundations for Welch. Herfailure torecognize the varying definitions and varying truths applied to herown God-language has already thrown a wrench into the workings ofher theology. Withher own pragmatism, Welch needs to reevaluate the effectiveness ofhertheology, her God-language, in arguing against Christians withidentical God-language but different interpretations. For example,how effectively can sheargue against Christians such as Pat Robertson who maintain that ajust andliberating action is to "cure" homosexuals through shock therapy? If she isto remain true to Foucault's genealogy, she must question her ownmeanings of"just" with the realization that genealogy does not allow an end toits ownself-critiquing processes. Foucault is aware of the danger offalling intothe trap of the repressive hypothesis. The philosopher resistssimply takingup the opposing political stance as a means of finding truth orliberation. Welch must be aware of this danger, also.

Reading Welch's Communities of Resistance andSolidarity with anyknowledge of the intricacies of Foucault's method is not unlikewatchingsomeone hammering a square peg into a round hole. The questiondoes notbecome "Can it be done?" but "Is it appropriate?" Welch herselfseems to feelthe need for such questioning: her other work of 1985, AFeminist Ethic ofRisk, is in part an attempt to reconcile her liberationtheology with thedeconstructionist methods it uses. As if cognizant of theproblematicdifferences between the definitions of "action" in her theology andinFoucault's philosophy, Welch spends a great deal of time rethinkingthe termand the assumptions that accompany it.

Welch's first task in A Feminist Ethic of Risk is thepinpointing ofwhat she sees as the main hindrance to involvement in politicalactivism inAmerica: "cultured despair" (14). The expression refers not onlyto thecomplacency or decline in enthusiasm which occurs over time, butalso to thespirit-breaking challenge responsibility often presents. "What canjust oneperson do?" is a common lament among concerned people. The resultisresignation and inaction. Welch's cultured despair has another,more deeplytroublesome quality, the most formidable hindrance to motivation:

Becoming so easily discouraged is the privilege ofthoseaccustomed to too much power, accustomed to having needs metwithout negotiation and work, accustomed to having a political andeconomic system that responds to their needs (15).

In other words, the privilege of power spoils. For oneaccustomed to the easeof achievement, any cause requiring hard work or lacking aguarantee ofsuccess becomes a senseless waste of effort. Consider Welch'sexample ofnuclear disarmament. Polls conducted by scholars from BrownUniversity showthat the majority of Americans feel disarmament is necessary, forno nuclearwar has winners. Few of those polled, however, actuallyparticipate inactivist causes for nuclear disarmament. The reasons, Welchbelieves, aresimple:

The central element...is the notion of power assumed. Thequestion is framed in absolutes: the idea of abolishing nuclearweapons implies getting rid of them all at once, everywhere, andforever. To ask for elimination of nuclear weapons is to desiretotal control, a humanly impossible degree of domination(FeministEthic 26).

Fear of loss of control, of vulnerability, is a concern. Butthis fear isungrounded. It finds its origins in the improper way of posing thequestionof disarmament:

The problem with this way of posing the issue is thatif wecannotguarantee the ultimate elimination of nuclear weapons, it seems asthough we cannot take smaller steps. They appear foolish whencontrasted with the larger goal of total disarmament (FeministEthic 26).

Thus, the problem is in our poor understanding of what it meansto engage inactivism. From this perspective, Welch seeks to find a remedy forcultureddespair. Her solution is a redefining of action. Its meaning mustberethought in order to remedy damaging assumptions and fears aboutguaranteedgoals and loss of control.

Central to this rethinking of action are notions of painand suffering. One's own pain and suffering, as well as the pain of othersremembered, areuseful. Rage is useful. For Welch, pain, as well as the healingprocess paindemands, affirm the power and wisdom of struggle. These thingsmotivate theactivist. They provide perspective. They justify action. They donotguarantee any victory over evil, nor do they guarantee success ofany kind. The resistance is an end in itself. This is not to say that Welchprescribesan aimless activism. Her goals are kept clearly in mind. Her"ethic of risk"merely allows for smaller steps to be made with confidence and asense ofjustified motivation. It seeks to replace the former "ethic ofcontrol," aparalyzing understanding of action which does not allow forvulnerability,pain, or fragility (99).

Is Welch's reworking of activism and action enough toreconciledeconstructionist theory and liberation theology? Liberationtheology isstill an aim-oriented undertaking. Sharon Welch clearly states,"The primarychallenge of liberation is not to construct the correct theory butthestruggle to achieve freedom in history" (Communities 80). And Welch is stilla theologian. This necessarily means she is grounding her work intruthclaims about the transcendent. In Communities of Resistanceand Solidarity,the grounds are a just God and a liberating God. In A FeministEthic of Risk,where Welch might be called an ethicist over a theologian, thegrounds arestill a just "divine" and an empowering "grace" (174). Within thedeconstructionist framework, there can be no transcendent truth;therefore,deconstructionists can offer no foundations to theology. However,let usconsider our theologian and our deconstructionist philosopher asethicistsonly. Such an analysis sheds light on an additional, basicincompatibilitybetween the works of Michel Foucault and Sharon Welch.

Foucault is essentially an ethicist. Gibson Winter's thoughtson thisuncommon assertion are helpful here. First, Foucault's most basicmoralstatement occurs in each history he traces: controlled subjugationofembodied human beings is the danger. From this assertion regardingthe dangerof concocted historical "truths," one can deduce Foucault'sassumptionregarding the sanctuary of what he regards as truth, and in theprocess onecan trace Foucault's main philosophical, ethical, and intellectualinfluences. Winter finds the center of Foucault's ethics in one straightforwardquestion: "How can one be a full human being in spite of all the controllingfactors?"(Winter). Most simply, "What does it mean to be human?" Theunderlying issuefor Foucault is the concept of self. For Winter, the issues aretwo: selfand community. The task of answering the questions above is guidedby suchconcepts. For Foucault, the informing factor isLiberté, that is,individualism in the French tradition, influenced by both SartreandNietzsche. The driving force behind French existentialism inpost-World WarII Europe, Liberté ("Freedom") is understood,Winter states, as "what oneindividual wishes to do." The inadequacy ofLiberté is the concept's failureto encompass community as a main factor in the definition of "humanbeing." The grounding philosophical truth for the Sartrean tradition is tooindividualistic, and Foucault's ground is too dependent onNietzsche's Will toPower. Liberté, as Winter articulates,fails to see that "real power as theability to sustain relationships." Community as the manifestationof humanlife seems to have escaped the sensibilities of Foucault.

Sharon Welch's sensibilities, by contrast, do includecommunity. Through her writings, Welch repeatedly presents a notion ofhumanity asdefined by community. Her theology is based upon it. Consider herchoice oftitle for her liberation theology work: not Individuals of, orEnclaves of,but Communities of Resistance and Solidarity. Thecommunities of which shespeaks are not just groups of oppressed peoples; they include humanbeings whosympathize with the oppressed and recognize that all people aredamaged whenone segment of the human community is damaged. Welch does notwrite of enemies or opposing factions; she writes of communication,solidarity, andoptimism:

Feminist theology is located in the horizon of thememory ofthemany times and places where Christian faith and hopes are notactualized and the Christian definition of the nature of humanbeing is defaced or obliterated. Given this horizon, the searchfor the verification of Christian faith is a practical one. Theprimary evidence of the truth of Christianity is its successfulactualization. The primary threat to it, the basic denial of itstruth, the actualization of structures that subvert solidarity,that destroy human dignity, that take human lives(Communities91).

Intrinsic to Welch's definition of "the nature of human being"is the notionof solidarity, of community. She goes so far as to tie communityto Christiantruth, in her terms, justice and liberty. Like Foucault, shedefines thegreat danger as the subversion of liberty. Unlike Foucault, sherealizes thathuman liberty includes life in community.

The danger in Foucault's relational understanding of knowledgeisgenealogy's cyclical process of exposing or unmasking the verypurpose of themethod. The cycle of critique is unending. It necessarily isengaged incontinual self-questioning, and no genealogist may overlook thismostfundamental rule. Any theologian attempting to use thedeconstructionistmethod must recognize this limit. Genealogy is an excellent tool,but it mustbe thrown away at some point. Welch's methodological error is herfailure todo just that: after effectively using genealogy to debaseconstructions ofpower, she attempts to move it into the realm of pragmaticapplication. Welch's second error is her failure to recognize Foucault'sinadequatedefinition of human being: to her credit, she possesses a greater,morecomplete understanding of human being, one which incorporatescommunity andrelationships as basic needs. This is the solidarity of which shespeaks; hertheology can be understood only in its terms.

Underlying Sharon Welch's prerequisite solidarity is atroublingconcept: "choice of perspective" is defined by Welch as choosingto think andact from the perspective of the oppressed (Communities26). This optimisticaim is a basic ingredient in her theology and is rooted in hernotions ofcommunity, solidarity, and communication. The assumption that onecan situateoneself in such a position to have the thoughts, feelings, andperspectives ofentire oppressed groups is a naive one at best. It is anassumption heavilycriticized by writers like Ann Russo, Rey Chow, Cheryl L. West, andChandraTalpade Mohanty, who rightfully challenge such assertions made bywhiteacademic feminists.⁽²¹⁾ Welchacknowledges her privileged place in the academy:

The privilege to undergo the type of education thatallows onetounderstand and use ontological categories and refer to universalvalues is a privilege denied many women in the present and mostwomen in the past. It is a privilege denied those who are poor. Universal discourse is the discourse of the privileged(Communities 80).

Still, she situates herself both as oppressed and oppressor. Welchseeks to recover lost voices, or, to "insurrect subjugatedknowledges." Sheseeks to unite with oppressed individuals from her privileged seatin theacademy. Again relying on Foucault's work, she assumes that thegenealogicalmethod is the tool by which to gain a complete picture of historyand allliving in it. This, too, contradicts the philosophy set forth byFoucault. Genealogy is a wonderful but limited tool. While it is true thatgenealogydoes seek to recover lost discourses, lost knowledges, and lostvoices,Foucault himself humbly points to his method's limits:

Genealogy is gray, meticulous, and patientlydocumentary. Itoperates on a field of entangled and confused parchments, ondocuments that have been scratched over and recopied many times (Foucault Reader 76).

It seems Foucault is less confident about genealogy's potentialthan is Welch. In addition, genealogy by definition requires that a certaindistance be keptfrom one's object of study when applying the genealogical method. Foucaultreferred to his method as a kind of excavation, the result being anoverviewallowing for a detached, profound perspective. "Depth isresituated as anabsolutely superficial secret." This element of impersonaldistancingcertainly is not one of Welch's goals.

In sum, Foucault's genealogical method presents itself as atroublesometool for Sharon Welch's theology. Its continual self-criticism anddeconstruction ultimately become problematic for theaction-oriented theology. The task Welch seeks to perform with Foucault's method is much likethe task awoodsman performs with an ax: intending to provide firewood, thewoodsmanuses the ax to fall a tree and then to cut the tree into logs. Butit iscommon sense that at a certain point the woodsman must stopcutting, lest hebe left with only sawdust. Sharon Welch must also put down the ax:genealogyis a worthwhile tool, but liberation theology cannot succeed if theax ofdeconstruction produces only dust. The necessity of remaining opento newcritiques and new modifications is vital to Foucault's processes ofanalysis,but for Welch, the unending search for bases of discourseinevitably means anunending search for bases of action. Truth becomes problematic. Without asolid foundation of accepted knowledge, that is, without the baseof a stablediscourse in which to argue, liberation theology cannot survive: theinterminable groundless nature of Welch's theology becomes ahindrance to thetheology's goal of action. Further, Welch and Foucault operatewith differingnotions of praxis stemming from differing notions of human being. Foucault'sposition as ethicist does not entail an incorporation of humancommunity as aguiding force. He once said, "I am well aware that I have neverwrittenanything but fictions..." Action was not his concern; the critiquewas an endin itself. Welch sees more than fictions. The reality ofcommunity is partof her most basic definition of what it means to be human. Forher, thestruggle, the solidarity in community, is an end in itself. More,it is theway to achieve liberation. This is more than Michel Foucault'sgenealogy canencompass.

Works cited