My name is Soph Benja Petzelberger. I am a white German queer feminist anthropologist and activist of the radical left in Berlin. My academic and activist work focuses mostly on the imagining of and fighting for utopias, inside my own communities and beyond. In 2018, I got together with black student activists of the
Fallist movement in Pretoria, South Africa, to conduct a protest and image film to reach an international audience. The title of the film was
Changing Utopias and it was mostly composed of interviews with
Fallist activists explaining the intersectional approach in their struggle against student fees and for a further decolonization of South Africa and the world (
Booysen, 2016;
Petzelberger, 2019). Inspired by this project and finding myself in the middle of a newly emerging global network sharing and proclaiming queer feminist decolonial utopias, I am now focusing my PhD research on the further exploration and assistance of these militant dreams.
After all, feminism in and by itself is utopian. It is driven by anticipation, grounded in the recognition of patriarchy as an unnatural state, and inspired by the belief in and pursuit of its alternatives. Equality is a utopia. And therefore, in feminism, future is an action. It is the process of creating through the act of imagining. Only if we can dream it, we can fight for it. While public discourse and political culture portray utopia as an impossible quest for perfection whose political consequences are necessarily totalitarian, it can also be understood as a method; a critical tool to reflect the limitations of the present and to manifest a future of human flourishing (
Levitas 2013).
In these times of global economic and environmental crises, like-minded people all over the world are fighting similar battles while holding different hierarchical positions. Our utopias mirror these differences. Dreams of future are planted in our past and branching out into our present. As unique as we are the same, our worries and hopes, our dystopian and utopian memories and fantasies reflect the intersectionalities of our struggles. When we share utopias, our factors of identity, positioning, and values intertwine and become mutually dependent on one another (
Yuval-Davis 1999). Utopia is at the core of intersectional struggle. By and large, intersectional activism has the capacity to “radically create moments and spaces” where marginalized people can rethink and imagine communities on different grounds (
Eisenstein 2018: 146).
Deriving from this assumption is a concept I coined
militant utopias; the visions of queer-feminist decolonial activists around the world who are imagining a better future, while fighting for their own future survival (
Petzelberger 2019). Here, militancy is defined as “a term of persistence, and therefore balance, rather than violence”, quoting the famous words of Martin Luther King Jr. (
Petzelberger 2019: 17). When faced with oppression, utopia begins with the mere continuity of existence, as the most profound act of rebellion. Survival, in that sense, is at the beginning of militant utopian persistence. Albeit, the dreams that arise from this everyday rebellion are pushing for more. Essential to
militant utopias is the intention to implement real political changes in the here and now, to cleave a way one step at a time and to define those steps towards a certain goal.
Therefore, while those maps of the future might be easier to navigate by the powerful, the utopias of the oppressed not only allow fundamental critique of the status quo, but “embedded in the dream is a hunger for its own reification, a demand that imposes an obligation on reality” (
Schulz 1998: 270). Or in the words of famous novelist Margaret Atwood: “Understanding the imagination is no longer a pastime or even a duty, but a necessity; because increasingly if we can imagine it, we’ll be able to do it” (
2004: 517).