Linda Herrera, Educating Egypt: Civic Values and Ideological Struggles (New Texts Out Now)

Linda Herrera, Educating Egypt: Civic Values and Ideological Struggles (New Texts Out Now)

Linda Herrera, Educating Egypt: Civic Values and Ideological Struggles (New Texts Out Now)

By : Linda Herrera

Linda Herrera, Educating Egypt: Civic Values and Ideological Struggles (New York and Cairo: American University in Cairo Press, 2022).

Jadaliyya (J): What made you write this book? 

Linda Herrera (LH): I had been planning to compile a volume of my work on Egyptian education for some time, but it kept getting interrupted by the forces of history. For instance, while I was preparing a manuscript covering a decade of ethnographic work in relation to nationalism and political Islam in education, the events of 11 September 2001 occurred. I became temporarily paralyzed, not sure how to position this work given the tide of Islamophobia and the “War on Terror.” I shifted my attention instead to life histories of Muslim youth. When I returned to researching education, I discovered I needed to pay attention not so much to Islamist politics, but to new information and communication technologies and how young people were using them to learn, socialize, do politics, and perform citizenship roles. As I was researching the social media activities of Egyptian students, the Egyptian revolution of 2011 erupted. I shifted my focus to youth and revolution in the age of social media. As the dust settled and I started researching educational change in the post-revolution period, I realized that for three decades I had witnessed different eras of Egyptian history and been documenting them through the lens of education, technology, and youth. It was time to finally write and compile this book.

It asks if the school as we know it is on its way to extinction and, if so, what is on the horizon to replace it?

J: What particular topics, issues, and literatures does the book address?

LH: This book combines a substantial reworking of already published material with new writing in the anthropology of education, youth and technology studies, critical development studies, and Middle East studies. It is divided into four sections. Part One, “Schooling the Nation,” is an ethnography of a government girls’ school during the Mubarak era. Through attention to the everyday life of the school, which stands as a microcosm of the nation, it provides insights into the ideals about schooling for national cohesion and development, versus the challenging realities. Part Two moves to political Islam and interrogates how Islamist movements, starting with the Muslim Brotherhood in 1928, have used the technologies and institutions of state power to create alternatives to it, and how students and education workers have intervened in ideological and political struggles. Part Three looks at youth in a changing global order, with attention to how the logic of the market, the “knowledge economy,” has influenced education policies and altered state-society relations, particularly with regard to youth. Finally, Part Four asks about the future of education in light of the ubiquity of private lessons, technological advances, and major upsets brought on by the Coronavirus pandemic. It asks if the school as we know it is on its way to extinction and, if so, what is on the horizon to replace it? 

J: How does this book connect to and/or depart from your previous work? 

LH: I have always been interested in the relationship between research and theory and how empirical realities from the ground can upend our assumptions about social systems, nudge us to reconsider our theories, and open new avenues of inquiry. Among the many strengths of qualitative methodologies generally, and ethnography specifically, whether of brick and mortar schools or virtual social media spaces, is that they allow us to learn about how social systems and relations might be changing and, in the process, build new knowledge. In other words, qualitative research forces one to build and test theory from the ground up, while staying cognizant of structures of power and systems at the macro level (no easy feat, to be sure). The trouble is, we might not like what we find, and I am not always sure how to handle difficult, uncomfortable, or unpopular findings. But I find that too much academic work is driven by an unswerving fidelity to a theorist (think of Foucault, for example) or a theoretical framework, even when faced with cracks or fault lines in said theory. This happens in critical scholarly traditions—where I generally situate myself—as much as in other traditions.

On reflection, something that connects my previous work with the current book is that I anticipate some people will interpret it as “not optimist enough,” while others will undoubtedly opine that it is “not critical enough.” For instance, after Revolution in the Age of Social Media was published in 2014, some readers were annoyed that it did not celebrate the agency of young tech savvy activists to the end (there was some celebration, to be sure) but raised all kinds of doubts and caveats about the murkiness of social media companies and spaces. In 2022 this is nothing surprising, but at the time there was a hunger for more optimistic accounts about social media and youth agency in relation to democracy. In this current volume, readers may take issue with the fact that it confronts head-on some of the disfunctions of the system but refrains from laying total blame on the usual suspects and systems (i.e. neoliberalism), nor does it offer prescriptions on how to “fix the problems.” The work is generally agnostic on social actors, with no clear-cut heroes or demons, and eschews grand totalizing theories of the State or economy as explanatory devices. This is not due to being anti-theory, but simply because I have found the existing theoretical toolkits to be too narrow or reductive to capture the enormous complexity of the reality. Indeed, a key reason I am so drawn to the field of education studies is that it presents constant puzzles and paradoxes, often defies the prevailing framing mechanisms and theories, and pushes us to be more creative in our thinking and methods so that we can, however incrementally, move the bar.

J: Who do you hope will read this book and what sort of impact would you like it to have?

LH: As a point of pedagogic principle, I put a lot of effort into writing and communicating ideas to reach readers of different backgrounds and ages. I try to write with clarity—by avoiding jargon or grandiose expositions on theory, maintain rigor—by conducting thorough research and showing evidence to build an argument, and practice humility—by admitting when I am confused, stumped, or uncertain about how to make sense of something, or simply do not have enough material to do justice to a topic. I tend to imagine the reader as a student, and I do not mean just someone enrolled in a class, but rather a person who sets out to discover or go deeper into a topic and is open to being challenged in their thinking and perception. I hope this book will provide a window into aspects of the world of education, power, and Egyptian society for students and discerning readers interested in Middle East Studies, global studies in education, social policy, youth studies, gender studies, and others. I could only wish that the book might attract readers to join the field of education studies. For those already in the arena, it might stimulate ideas for timely critical research. We need all the energy, solidarity, forms of collaboration, and brain power we can muster for the enormously challenging questions about the present and future of education. The social policy dimensions of education are also immensely critical, and I hope the work can animate policy discussions and actions.

J: What other projects are you working on now?

LH: I am currently compiling oral histories of the education reforms in Egypt. I have been talking to policy makers, architects of the digital platforms, ministry of education advisors, authors of the new textbooks, and others involved in building the “new education system.” I hope to produce a book based on these oral histories and also leave an archive (the location TBD) for future researchers. This work comes out of my role as director of the Education 2.0 Research and Documentation Project (2019-2021) where I worked with a team of Egyptian researchers to document education sector reforms that started in 2018. I am also managing a YouTube Channel to provide a record—in Arabic and English—of contemporary education policy initiatives in Egypt.

 

Excerpt from the book (from the Introduction, “Educating Egypt: From Nation Building to Digital Disruption,” pp. 1-18, 199-200) 

Mass schooling in Egypt has unfolded in the past century with enormous success in terms of its reach and place in the collective imagination. The state and diverse groups in society have consistently leveraged education to shape identities, assert political and moral authority, and pursue ambitious visions for economic and social development. Indeed, education is such a compelling field of study precisely because of how it is intertwined in larger processes of power and counterpower, social continuity and social change, and because of its connection to the hopes, aspirations, labor, setbacks, and opportunities of millions of families and children, who make immense sacrifices to be credentialed and “educated.”

This book traces the everyday practices, policy ideas, and ideological and political battles relating to education from the era of nation building in the twentieth century to the age of digital disruption in the twenty-first. The overarching theme is that schooling and the broader field of education have consistently mirrored larger political, economic, and cultural trends and competing ideas about what constitutes the “good society,” the “good citizen,” and the “educated person.” Questions around citizenship, civic belonging, and participation in public and economic life have loomed especially large as sites of struggle and reimagining. These themes run through the book and tie its chapters together. […]

This volume takes an interdisciplinary approach that draws on anthropology, sociology, political economy, philosophy, social history, and the fields of international development studies, youth studies, gender studies, and technology studies. Since new tools, technologies, and ideas are periodically infused into the education system, leading to sudden changes in behaviors and attitudes, researchers must be methodologically agile. The methodologies employed here include ethnography, oral and life histories, critical analysis of education policies, laws, and textbooks, social historical analyses, and digital social research. […] These approaches do not lend themselves to tidy or grand theorization about the nature of schooling. The aim of this volume, rather, is to bring issues and social realities to the surface, raise questions, and put forward propositions for further investigation. […]

This book moves between the local and the global, the micro and the macro, as it examines the broad social forces that drive educational practice, ideas, and change. These levels of observation bring into view the constant interplay between structure and agency. Among the main questions the work addresses are these: How have different interest groups—including foreign governments and entities, multilateral organizations, social movements, the private sector, civil society, and youth themselves—been forces for educational change? What happens when education actors harbor fundamentally different views about the purpose of schooling, the role of the citizen, and the character of the collective “we” in society? How do new educational ideas, policies, modes of financing, technologies, and practices emerge, to what ends, and to whose benefit? This book is divided into four sections. Each one reflects different time periods, themes, foci, and methodological choices.

Part One, “Schooling the Nation: Inside a Girls’ Preparatory School” (chapters 1–5) is an ethnography in the tradition of cultural anthropology, carried out between 1990 and 1991 … Schools were widely seen at the time as microcosms of the nation, sites of political socialization fundamental to the nation state project. … Unbeknownst to me at the time, this ethnography would become a snapshot of national schooling at the end of an era, a time overlapping with the close of the Cold War and the opening to more aggressive forces of globalization.

Part Two, “Political Islam and Education” (chapters 6-8) emerged from a desire to understand how groups and movements use the institutions and technologies of state power to try to forge alternatives to it. [In the 1990s], schools were becoming supposed ideological breeding grounds for radical ideas and recruitment, making the entire education sector a matter of national security. At the same time, education markets were opening as part of a state-led drive towards privatization. A new category of for-profit private schools, private Islamic schools (al-madaris al-islamiya al-khassa), combined schooling with lifestyle aspirations, business with politics, and upward mobility with piety…. 

Part Three, “Youth in a Changing Global Order” (chapter 9-12) came about as “youth” and youth subjectivities became foci in international development interventions. …Democracy and related concepts—human rights, active learning, civic participation, gender empowerment, global citizenship, and entrepreneurship—were international policy mantras mapped onto education. Many efforts were made to integrate these concepts into school curricula and support civil society’s non-formal education programs …. This section takes “Muslim youth” and “youth” as key categories. It explores the relation between youth, education policy, citizenship, and global politics using two methods: critical discourse analysis of international development reports and policy documents (chapters 9 and 12), and life history interviews with young people (chapters 10 and 11). The chapters highlight the dissonance between the voices of Egyptian youths who articulate their struggles, aspirations, and ideas for fair social policies, and the oftentimes out-of-touch and ideologically driven policy prescriptions about what young people need and should do. 

The concluding chapter in Part Four is a rumination on the future of education. It reviews three factors that are upending the Egyptian education system: a runaway shadow education system and continuous innovations of educational entrepreneurs; the attempt by the post-2014 government to build a new education system that involves, among other things, digital transformation by way of injecting it with a number of digital tools, platforms, and learning technologies; and the Covid-19 pandemic that opened the way for a hybrid model and normalized distance learning. It asks if schooling as we know it, the model born out of an earlier industrial revolution, is on a life support system gasping for its final breaths of air? And if so, what is on the horizon to replace it? 

The thing about educational research is you can never know where it will take you. One needs to be nimble enough to follow where it leads, and humble enough to know that you can only ever scratch the surface. In our roles as chroniclers of education practice, and as critical and humanist educators who believe in inclusive education and values of social solidarity, fairness, and the endless possibilities of human learning and creativity to confront and solve the immense challenges of our times, we endeavor to recognize the people whose labor, aspirations, and struggles keep the education sector worth fighting for. As we march further into a twenty-first century laden with perils and unknown consequences, but also abounding in opportunities, we try to take stock of the past and envision a future. In the throes of overwhelming structural and resource challenges, contentious politics, and spectacular technological advances and disruptions, we strive to build knowledge and engage in dialogue about how education can best serve and support the common good, the global good.

New Texts Out Now: Mandy Turner and Cherine Hussein, guest eds. "Israel-Palestine after Oslo: Mapping Transformations in a Time of Deepening Crisis." Special Issue of Conflict, Security & Development

Conflict, Security and Development, Volume 15, No. 5 (December 2015) Special issue: "Israel-Palestine after Oslo: Mapping Transformations in a Time of Deepening Crisis," Guest Editors: Mandy Turner and Cherine Hussein.

Jadaliyya (J): What made you compile this volume?

Mandy Turner (MT): Both the peace process and the two-state solution are dead. Despite more than twenty years of negotiations, Israel’s occupation, colonization and repression continue–and the political and geographical fragmentation of the Palestinian people is proceeding apace.

This is not news, nor is it surprising to any keen observer of the situation. But what is surprising–and thus requires explanation – is the resilience of the Oslo framework and paradigm: both objectively and subjectively. It operates objectively as a straitjacket by trapping Palestinians in economic and security arrangements that are designed to ensure stabilization and will not to lead to sovereignty or a just and sustainable solution. And it operates subjectively as a straitjacket by shutting out discussion of alternative ways of understanding the situation and ways out of the impasse. The persistence of this framework that is focused on conflict management and stabilization, is good for Israel but bad for Palestinians.

The Oslo peace paradigm–of a track-one, elite-level, negotiated two-state solution–is therefore in crisis. And yet it is entirely possible that the current situation could continue for a while longer–particularly given the endorsement and support it enjoys from the major Western donors and the “international community,” as well as the fact that there has been no attempt to develop an alternative. The immediate short-term future is therefore bleak.

Guided by these observations, this special issue sought to undertake two tasks. The first task was to analyze the perceptions underpinning the Oslo framework and paradigm as well as some of the transformations instituted by its implementation: why is it so resilient, what has it created? The second task, which follows on from the first, was then to ask: how can we reframe our understanding of what is happening, what are some potential alternatives, and who is arguing and mobilizing for them?

These questions and themes grew out of a number of conversations with early-career scholars – some based at the Kenyon Institute in East Jerusalem, and some based in the occupied Palestinian territory and elsewhere. These conversations led to two interlinked panels at the International Studies Association annual convention in Toronto, Canada, in March 2014. To have two panels accepted on “conflict transformation and resistance in Palestine” at such a conventional international relations conference with (at the time unknown) early-career scholars is no mean feat. The large and engaged audience we received at these panels – with some very established names coming along (one of whom contributed to this special issue) – convinced us that this new stream of scholars and scholarship should have an outlet.  

J: What particular topics, issues, and literatures do the articles address?

MT: The first half of the special issue analyzes how certain problematic assumptions shaped the Oslo framework, and how the Oslo framework in turn shaped the political, economic and territorial landscape.

Virginia Tilley’s article focuses on the paradigm of conflict resolution upon which the Oslo Accords were based, and calls for a re-evaluation of what she argues are the two interlinked central principles underpinning its worldview: internationally accepted notions of Israeli sovereignty; and the internationally accepted idea that the “conflict” is essentially one between two peoples–the “Palestinian people” and the “Jewish people”. Through her critical interrogation of these two “common sense” principles, Tilley proposes that the “conflict” be reinterpreted as an example of settler colonialism, and, as a result of this, recommends an alternative conflict resolution model based on a paradigm shift away from an ethno-nationalist division of the polity towards a civic model of the nation.

Tariq Dana unpacks another central plank of the Oslo paradigm–that of promoting economic relations between Israel and the OPT. He analyses this through the prism of “economic peace” (particularly the recent revival of theories of “capitalist peace”), whose underlying assumptions are predicated on the perceived superiority of economic approaches over political approaches to resolving conflict. Dana argues that there is a symbiosis between Israeli strategies of “economic peace” and recent Palestinian “statebuilding strategies” (referred to as Fayyadism), and that both operate as a form of pacification and control because economic cooperation leaves the colonial relationship unchallenged.

The political landscape in the OPT has been transformed by the Oslo paradigm, particularly by the creation of the Palestinian Authority (PA). Alaa Tartir therefore analyses the basis, agenda and trajectory of the PA, particularly its post-2007 state building strategy. By focusing on the issue of local legitimacy and accountability, and based on fieldwork in two sites in the occupied West Bank (Balata and Jenin refugee camps), Tartir concludes that the main impact of the creation of the PA on ordinary people’s lives has been the strengthening of authoritarian control and the hijacking of any meaningful visions of Palestinian liberation.

The origin of the administrative division between the West Bank and Gaza Strip is the focus of Tareq Baconi’s article. He charts how Hamas’s initial opposition to the Oslo Accords and the PA was transformed over time, leading to its participation (and success) in the 2006 legislative elections. Baconi argues that it was the perceived demise of the peace process following the collapse of the Camp David discussions that facilitated this change. But this set Hamas on a collision course with Israel and the international community, which ultimately led to the conflict between Hamas and Fateh, and the administrative division, which continues to exist.

The special issue thereafter focuses, in the second section, on alternatives and resistance to Oslo’s transformations.

Cherine Hussein’s article charts the re-emergence of the single-state idea in opposition to the processes of separation unleashed ideologically and practically that were codified in the Oslo Accords. Analysing it as both a movement of resistance and as a political alternative to Oslo, while recognizing that it is currently largely a movement of intellectuals (particularly of diaspora Palestinians and Israelis), Hussein takes seriously its claim to be a more just and liberating alternative to the two-state solution.

My article highlights the work of a small but dedicated group of anti-Zionist Jewish-Israeli activists involved in two groups: Zochrot and Boycott from Within. Both groups emerged in the post-Second Intifada period, which was marked by deep disillusionment with the Oslo paradigm. This article unpacks the alternative – albeit marginalized – analysis, solution and route to peace proposed by these groups through the application of three concepts: hegemony, counter-hegemony and praxis. The solution, argue the activists, lies in Israel-Palestine going through a process of de-Zionization and decolonization, and the process of achieving this lies in actions in solidarity with Palestinians.

This type of solidarity action is the focus of the final article by Suzanne Morrison, who analyses the “We Divest” campaign, which is the largest divestment campaign in the US and forms part of the wider Palestinian Boycott, Divestment and Sanctions movement. Through attention to their activities and language, Morrison shows how “We Divest”, with its networked, decentralized, grassroots and horizontal structure, represents a new way of challenging Israel’s occupation and the suppression of Palestinian rights.

The two parts of the special issue are symbiotic: the critique and alternative perspectives analyzed in part two are responses to the issues and problems identified in part one.

J: How does this volume connect to and/or depart from your previous work?

MT: My work focuses on the political economy of donor intervention (which falls under the rubric of “peacebuilding”) in the OPT, particularly a critique of the Oslo peace paradigm and framework. This is a product of my broader conceptual and historical interest in the sociology of intervention as a method of capitalist expansion and imperial control (as explored in “The Politics of International Intervention: the Tyranny of Peace”, co-edited with Florian Kuhn, Routledge, 2016), and how post-conflict peacebuilding and development agendas are part of this (as explored in “Whose Peace: Critical Perspectives on the Political Economy of Peacebuilding”, co-edited with Michael Pugh and Neil Cooper (PalgraveMacmillan, 2008).  

My first book on Palestine (co-edited with Omar Shweiki), Decolonizing Palestinian Political Economy: De-development and Beyond (PalgraveMacmillan, 2014), was a collection of essays by experts in their field, of the political-economic experience of different sections of the Palestinian community. The book, however, aimed to reunite these individual experiences into one historical political-economy narrative of a people experiencing a common theme of dispossession, disenfranchisement and disarticulation. It was guided by the desire to critically assess the utility of the concept of de-development to different sectors and issues–and had a foreword by Sara Roy, the scholar who coined the term, and who was involved in the workshop from which the book emerged.

This co-edited special issue (with Cherine Hussein, who, at the time of the issue construction, was the deputy director of the Kenyon Institute) was therefore the next logical step in my research on Palestine, although my article on Jewish-Israeli anti-Zionists did constitute a slight departure from my usual focus.

J: Who do you hope will read this volume, and what sort of impact would you like it to have?

MT: I would imagine the main audience will be those whose research and political interests lie in Palestine Studies. It is difficult, given the structure of academic publishing – which has become ever more corporate and money grabbing – for research outputs such as this to be accessed by the general public. Only those with access to academic libraries are sure to be able to read it – and this is a travesty, in my opinion. To counteract this commodification of knowledge, we should all provide free access to our outputs through online open source websites such as academia.edu, etc. If academic research is going to have an impact beyond merely providing more material for teaching and background reading for yet more research (which is inaccessible to the general public) then this is essential. Websites such as Jadaliyya are therefore incredibly important.

Having said all that, I am under no illusions about the potential for ANY research on Israel-Palestine to contribute to changing the dynamics of the situation. However, as a collection of excellent analyses conducted by mostly early-career scholars in the field of Palestine studies, I am hopeful that their interesting and new perspectives will be read and digested. 

J: What other projects are you working on now?

MT: I am currently working on an edited volume provisionally entitled From the River to the Sea: Disintegration, Reintegration and Domination in Israel and Palestine. This book is the culmination of a two-year research project funded by the British Academy, which analyzed the impacts of the past twenty years of the Oslo peace framework and paradigm as processes of disintegration, reintegration and domination – and how they have created a new socio-economic and political landscape, which requires new agendas and frameworks. I am also working on a new research project with Tariq Dana at Birzeit University on capital and class in the occupied West Bank.

Excerpt from the Editor’s Note 

[Note: This issue was published in Dec. 2015]

Initially perceived to have inaugurated a new era of hope in the search for peace and justice in Palestine-Israel, the Oslo peace paradigm of a track one, elite-level, negotiated two-state solution is in crisis today, if not completely at an end.

While the major Western donors and the ‘international community’ continue to publicly endorse the Oslo peace paradigm, Israeli and Palestinian political elites have both stepped away from it. The Israeli government has adopted what appears to be an outright rejection of the internationally-accepted end-goal of negotiations, i.e. the emergence of a Palestinian state based on the 1967 borders with East Jerusalem as its capital. In March 2015, in the final days of his re-election campaign, Israeli Prime Minister, Benjamin Netanyahu, visited the Jewish settlement of Har Homa in Palestinian East Jerusalem, which is regarded as illegal under international law. Reminding its inhabitants that it was him and his Likud government that had established the settlement in 1997 as part of the Israeli state’s vision of a unified indivisible Jerusalem, he promised to expand the construction of settlements in East Jerusalem if re-elected. And in an interview with Israeli news site, NRG, Netanyahu vowed that the prospects of a Palestinian state were non-existent as long as he remained in office. Holding on to the occupied Palestinian territory (oPt), he argued, was necessary to ensure Israel’s security in the context of regional instability and Islamic extremism. It is widely acknowledged that Netanyahu’s emphasis on Israel’s security—against both external and internal enemies—gave him a surprise win in an election he was widely expected to lose.

Despite attempts to backtrack under recognition that the US and European states are critical of this turn in official Israeli state policy, Netanyahu’s promise to bury the two-state solution in favour of a policy of further annexation has become the Israeli government’s official intent, and has been enthusiastically endorsed by leading ministers and key advisers.

[…]

The Palestinian Authority (PA) based in the West Bank also appears to have rejected a key principle of the Oslo peace paradigm—that of bilateral negotiations under the supervision of the US. Despite a herculean effort by US Secretary of State, John Kerry, to bring the two parties to the negotiating table, in response to the lack of movement towards final status issues and continued settlement expansion (amongst other issues), the Palestinian political elite have withdrawn from negotiations and resumed attempts to ‘internationalise the struggle’ by seeking membership of international organisations such as the United Nations (UN), and signing international treaties such as the Rome Statute, the founding treaty of the International Criminal Court. This change of direction is part of a rethink in the PA and PLO’s strategy rooted in wider discussions and debates. The publication of a document by the Palestine Strategy Study Group (PSSG) in August 2008, the production of which involved many members of the Palestinian political elite (and whose recommendations were studiously discussed at the highest levels of the PA and PLO), showed widespread discontent with the bilateral negotiations framework and suggested ways in which Palestinians could ‘regain the initiative’.

[…]

And yet despite these changes in official Palestinian and Israeli political strategies that signal a deepening of the crisis, donors and the ‘international community’ are reluctant to accept the failure of the Oslo peace paradigm. This political myopia has meant the persistence of a framework that is increasingly divorced from the possibility of a just and sustainable peace. It is also acting as an ideological straitjacket by shutting out alternative interpretations. This special issue seeks a way out of this political and intellectual dead end. In pursuit of this, our various contributions undertake what we regard to be two key tasks: first, to critically analyse the perceptions underpinning the Oslo paradigm and the transformations instituted by its implementation; and second, to assess some alternative ways of understanding the situation rooted in new strategies of resistance that have emerged in the context of these transformations in the post-Oslo landscape.

[…]

Taken as a whole, the articles in this special issue aim to ignite conversations on the conflict that are not based within abstracted debates that centre upon the peace process itself—but that begin from within the realities and geographies of both the continually transforming land of Palestine-Israel and the voices, struggles, worldviews and imaginings of the future of the people who presently inhabit it. For it is by highlighting these transformations, and from within these points of beginning, that we believe more hopeful pathways for alternative ways forward can be collectively imagined, articulated, debated and built.