# Colloque: Approches croisées sur la souffrance sociale La vulnérabilité comme problème : expériences et usages de la mobilité à l'heure du 'global migration management'

Hervé Nicolle

## ► To cite this version:

Hervé Nicolle. Colloque: Approches croisées sur la souffrance sociale La vulnérabilité comme problème: expériences et usages de la mobilité à l'heure du 'global migration management'. Prospettive interdisciplinari sulla sofferenza sociale, Université de Nanterre; Università degli Studi Roma III; GINEDIS-UCM - Madrid, Sep 2023, Rome, Italie. hal-04392375

HAL Id: hal-04392375

https://hal.parisnanterre.fr/hal-04392375

Submitted on 13 Jan 2024

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# Prospettive interdisciplinari sulla sofferenza sociale

## Progetto franco-italo-spagnolo (feb. 2023 - sett. 2023)

### Terzo incontro

### Università degli Studi Roma Tre, 25-26 settembre

Via Ostiense 234-236, 00146 Roma

25 settembre (Aula C)

Sessione mattutina

10:15 - Introduzione ai lavori

10:30 - **Pablo López Álvarez (GINEDIS-UCM)**, Body, Government, and Work: A Normative Discussion

11:00 - **Giacomo Gilmozzi (Roma Tre)**, Farmacologia del divenire iperindustriale. Appunti per biforcare dal realismo capitalista

11:30 - pausa

12:00 - **Massimiliano Nicoli (Paris-Nanterre, Sophiapol)**, Les souffrances du « capital humain »

12:30 - Discussione

Chair(s): **Marco Costantini / Valentina Santoro**

Sessione pomeridiana

16:00 - **Clara Navarro / Guillermo López Morlanes (GINEDIS-UCM)**, Still Invisible, Still Informal:

Transformations of Care, Space, and Reproduction Labour in Platform Capitalism

16:30 - **Hervé Nicolle (Paris-Nanterre, Sophiapol)**, La vulnérabilité comme problème: expériences et usages de la mobilité à l'heure du 'global migration management'

17:00 - Discussione

Chair: **Valeria Bizzari**

26 settembre (Aula C)

Sessione mattutina

10:15 - Introduzione ai lavori

10:30 - **Clara Ramas (GINEDIS-UCM)**, Antígona: sufrimiento y origen

11:00 - **Marco Costantini (Roma Tre)**, L'animale ai margini dell'utopia in Adorno

11:30 - Pausa

12:00 - **Mariannina Failla (Roma Tre)**, Inconscio e corpo nella prospettiva fenomenologica

12:30 - Discussione

Chair: **Valentina Santoro**

**Comitato organizzativo:**

Nuria Sánchez Madrid

(Universidad Complutense de Madrid-GINEDIS)

Valentina Santoro, Pascal Vallet

(Université Paris Nanterre-SOPHIAPOL)

Mariannina Failla, Daniela Angelucci

(Università degli Studi Roma Tre)

**Contatti:**

Marco Costantini, marco costantini@uniroma3.it

Miriam Aiello, miriam.aiello@uniroma3.it

Link Teams 25 settembre: https://rb.gy/j19im

Link Teams 26 settembre: https://rb.gy/4lhh6
# Prospettive interdisciplinari sulla sofferenza sociale

Progetto franco-italo-spagnolo (feb. 2023 - sett. 2023)

## Terzo incontro

Università degli Studi Roma Tre, 25-26 settembre

Via Ostiense 234-236, 00146 Roma

25 settembre (Aula C)

Sessione mattutina

10:15 - Introduzione ai lavori

10:30 - **Pablo López Álvarez (GINEDIS-UCM)**, Body, Government, and Work: A Normative Discussion

11:00 - **Giacomo Gilmozzi (Roma Tre)**, Farmacologia del divenire iperindustriale. Appunti per biforcare dal realismo capitalista

11:30 - pausa

12:00 - **Massimiliano Nicoli (Paris-Nanterre, Sophiapol)**, Les souffrances du « capital humain »

12:30 - Discussione

Chair(s): **Marco Costantini / Valentina Santoro**

Sessione pomeridiana

16:00 - **Clara Navarro / Guillermo López Morlanes (GINEDIS-UCM)**, Still Invisible, Still Informal:

Transformations of Care, Space, and Reproduction Labour in Platform Capitalism

16:30 - **Hervé Nicolle (Paris-Nanterre, Sophiapol)**, La vulnérabilité comme problème: expériences et usages de la mobilité à l'heure du 'global migration management'

17:00 - Discussione

Chair: **Valeria Bizzari**

26 settembre (Aula C)

Sessione mattutina

10:15 - Introduzione ai lavori

10:30 - **Clara Ramas (GINEDIS-UCM)**, Antígona: sufrimiento y origen

11:00 - **Marco Costantini (Roma Tre)**, L'animale ai margini dell'utopia in Adorno

11:30 - Pausa

12:00 - **Mariannina Failla (Roma Tre)**, Inconscio e corpo nella prospettiva fenomenologica

12:30 - Discussione

Chair: **Valentina Santoro**

## Comitato organizzativo:

Nuria Sánchez Madrid

(Universidad Complutense de Madrid-GINEDIS)

Valentina Santoro, Pascal Vallet

(Université Paris Nanterre-SOPHIAPOL)

Mariannina Failla, Daniela Angelucci

(Università degli Studi Roma Tre)

## Contatti:

Marco Costantini, marco costantini@uniroma3.it

Miriam Aiello, miriam.aiello@uniroma3.it

Link Teams 25 settembre: https://rb.gy/j19im

Link Teams 26 settembre: https://rb.gy/4lhh6
<figure><img src="image_1.png" /></figure>

# Colloque: Approches croisées sur la souffrance sociale

La vulnérabilité comme problème : expériences et usages de la mobilité à l'heure du 'global migration management'
(Hervé Nicolle)
<figure><img src="image_1.png" /></figure>

# Colloque: Approches croisées sur la souffrance sociale

La vulnérabilité comme problème : expériences et usages de la mobilité à l'heure du 'global migration management'
(Hervé Nicolle)
<figure><img src="image_2.png" /><figcaption># Trans Europe Migration</figcaption></figure>

Credit: Rocco Rorandelli

<figure><img src="image_3.png" /></figure>
<figure><img src="image_2.png" /></figure>

# Trans Europe Migration

Credit: Rocco Rorandelli

<figure><img src="image_3.png" /></figure>
- Auteur (traduit) : Ce n'est pas la première fois que l'on se rencontre !

- Jeebleh : Non.

- Auteur (traduit) : Et comment est votre situation aujourd'hui ? Par rapport à notre dernière rencontre, il y a six mois ?

- Jeebleh : Pas meilleure. Pire même. Il y a les sauterelles, la sécheresse, le COVID. On ne reçoit rien.

- Auteur (traduit) : Comment est la situation par rapport aux autres membres de la communauté ?

- Jeebleh : En fait, c'est aussi cela qui pose problème. Les organisations d'aide viennent nous voir, parce qu'on est des déplacés. Les gens de Kismayo ne veulent pas de nous. On est isolés, sans travail, sans électricité. Donc les ONGs viennent.

- Auteur (traduit) : Et c'est une bonne ou mauvaise chose pour vous ?

- Jeebleh : Cela dépend. Ils posent des questions pour savoir si vous et votre famille êtes « vulnérables ». Ils demandent le temps passé dans le campement près de la ville, dans d'autres campements à Kismayo. Si vous êtes arrivés récemment, vous avez moins de chances de bénéficier de l'aide. (...) Si vous avez trop de connections dans le camp, si vous montrez que vous avez des contacts dans la ville, ils disent que vous êtes trop intégrés pour avoir de l'assistance.

- Auteur (traduit) : Et dans votre cas ?

- Jeebleh : Je ne veux pas mentir. Il y a des gens ici qui finissent par ne plus partir pour avoir l'aide. Ils veulent devenir « anciens » pour devenir vulnérables. (...) Et je ne veux pas non plus m'isoler pour avoir de l'aide.

- Auteur (traduit) : Vous trouvez que les gens d'ici trichent ?

- Jeebleh : Non, ils sont aussi des victimes. (Jeebleh marque une pause) A mon avis, avec leurs critères, les ONGs renforcent leur vulnérabilité en fait. Et je ne veux pas rentrer dans ce jeu, sinon c'est une spirale. Donc je vais contre leurs questions et je ne mens pas.

- Auteur (traduit) : Vous êtes en colère ?

- Jeebleh : La colère ne sert à rien ici. Mais il faut toujours lutter pour soi. Je le dis aux gens.

Pour notre interlocuteur, « ONG » pouvait être un acronyme générique pour désigner soit des organisations non-gouvernementales, soit des agences des nations unies (OIM) ou toute organisation ayant un mandat d'assistance et de protection.
- Auteur (traduit) : Ce n'est pas la première fois que l'on se rencontre !

- Jeebleh : Non.

- Auteur (traduit) : Et comment est votre situation aujourd'hui ? Par rapport à notre dernière rencontre, il y a six mois ?

- Jeebleh : Pas meilleure. Pire même. Il y a les sauterelles, la sécheresse, le COVID. On ne reçoit rien.

- Auteur (traduit) : Comment est la situation par rapport aux autres membres de la communauté ?

- Jeebleh : En fait, c'est aussi cela qui pose problème. Les organisations d'aide viennent nous voir, parce qu'on est des déplacés. Les gens de Kismayo ne veulent pas de nous. On est isolés, sans travail, sans électricité. Donc les ONGs viennent.

- Auteur (traduit) : Et c'est une bonne ou mauvaise chose pour vous ?

- Jeebleh : Cela dépend. Ils posent des questions pour savoir si vous et votre famille êtes « vulnérables ». Ils demandent le temps passé dans le campement près de la ville, dans d'autres campements à Kismayo. Si vous êtes arrivés récemment, vous avez moins de chances de bénéficier de l'aide. (...) Si vous avez trop de connections dans le camp, si vous montrez que vous avez des contacts dans la ville, ils disent que vous êtes trop intégrés pour avoir de l'assistance.

- Auteur (traduit) : Et dans votre cas ?

- Jeebleh : Je ne veux pas mentir. Il y a des gens ici qui finissent par ne plus partir pour avoir l'aide. Ils veulent devenir « anciens » pour devenir vulnérables. (...) Et je ne veux pas non plus m'isoler pour avoir de l'aide.

- Auteur (traduit) : Vous trouvez que les gens d'ici trichent ?

- Jeebleh : Non, ils sont aussi des victimes. (Jeebleh marque une pause) A mon avis, avec leurs critères, les ONGs renforcent leur vulnérabilité en fait. Et je ne veux pas rentrer dans ce jeu, sinon c'est une spirale. Donc je vais contre leurs questions et je ne mens pas.

- Auteur (traduit) : Vous êtes en colère ?

- Jeebleh : La colère ne sert à rien ici. Mais il faut toujours lutter pour soi. Je le dis aux gens.

Pour notre interlocuteur, « ONG » pouvait être un acronyme générique pour désigner soit des organisations non-gouvernementales, soit des agences des nations unies (OIM) ou toute organisation ayant un mandat d'assistance et de protection.
<figure><img src="image_4.png" /></figure>

<figure><img src="image_5.png" /></figure>

<figure><img src="image_6.png" /></figure>

<figure><img src="image_7.png" /><figcaption>Baringo, Kenya, movie from 2023</figcaption></figure>
<figure><img src="image_4.png" /><figcaption>Baringo, Kenya, movie from 2023</figcaption></figure>
Zahar, 26, Afghanistan, born in Iran, voluntary return migrant in Afghanistan since 2018.

<figure><img src="image_8.png" /></figure>

"My dreams are like flashes of light. I don't see too many connections between the different episodes. But they are facets of my life. First, there are dreams about life in the refugee camp where I was born. Education in Iran, which is better than in Afghanistan. I often dream about classrooms, notebooks, games, despite the difficulty because I think it is a difficult life - probably more difficult than other lives. (...) I see the changes with the sanctions against Iran (...) I dream of the crossing, I feel the expectation, there are lights, voices, smells even, that are in the dream and that populate it. They remain then in the day. (...) I see countries that are Turkey or Greece. And there is Bulgaria - in my dream - where people chase us and want to bring us down. It's a game but we can die. They say "don't be afraid, we are here to welcome you" but they want to kill us. And then I see the horror of going back to this country that I don't know - my country, Afghanistan. It is an international organization, like IOM but with different colors. They have logos, they have big cars, they want to do me good but they send me back to a country that is burning and where I was not born (...) I think the dream also helped me to understand that organizations only help themselves. Today I have a sewing machine thanks to the voluntary return program. It was through the dream that I understood what I could not accept in the real world. They offered me a nightmare." (Kabul, 2022)
Zahar, 26, Afghanistan, born in Iran, voluntary return migrant in Afghanistan since 2018.

<figure><img src="image_5.png" /></figure>

"My dreams are like flashes of light. I don't see too many connections between the different episodes. But they are facets of my life. First, there are dreams about life in the refugee camp where I was born. Education in Iran, which is better than in Afghanistan. I often dream about classrooms, notebooks, games, despite the difficulty because I think it is a difficult life - probably more difficult than other lives. (...) I see the changes with the sanctions against Iran (...) I dream of the crossing, I feel the expectation, there are lights, voices, smells even, that are in the dream and that populate it. They remain then in the day. (...) I see countries that are Turkey or Greece. And there is Bulgaria - in my dream - where people chase us and want to bring us down. It's a game but we can die. They say "don't be afraid, we are here to welcome you" but they want to kill us. And then I see the horror of going back to this country that I don't know - my country, Afghanistan. It is an international organization, like IOM but with different colors. They have logos, they have big cars, they want to do me good but they send me back to a country that is burning and where I was not born (...) I think the dream also helped me to understand that organizations only help themselves. Today I have a sewing machine thanks to the voluntary return program. It was through the dream that I understood what I could not accept in the real world. They offered me a nightmare." (Kabul, 2022)
Afiya, 27, Uganda, asylum seeker in Kakuma (Kenya). Single mom and LGBTQ activist.

<figure><img src="image_9.png" /></figure>

"There is a dream that really confused me and was like reality, I dreamed that I was sleeping but my bed was like in the middle of the forest and it was up. And then downstairs there was water. **And something was coming like a snake on my bed and then it could talk.** He said, "If you sleep with me, everything is fine, but if you refuse to sleep with me, I will throw you down and you will die". I said, "No, I can't sleep with you", so he took my hand and threw me down. But luckily, the wind pushed me almost to the shore. But when I tried to get out of the water, I saw two men wearing robes – in our language we call it "kanzus". Muslims wear them in white. They are very traditional and chase people like me, who are lesbian. They were holding spears and wanted to kill me and I had to come back and cross the lake again. But when they cross the lake, they fall in the water if they try because they see me walking in the water, running without falling in, they come too. But when they come, they keep falling and drowning. **But I don't drown. I reach the other side and I still find the same men, the other men.** So I had to go back to the share. And I started screaming "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!", even the people in my room, around me heard me screaming. (...) It was so real to me. The last time the dream came back, after I got out of the water, there was someone I was fighting with. It was a giant man; I didn't know him but we were fighting. I fought him. And then I could hear someone telling me that, "You fight, you fight hard, you can win." And when that voice came to me, I thought, "Yes, I can do this." (...) I fought the man until he was down and I woke up. These are the dreams that come to me most often." (Kakuma, 2022)
Afiya, 27, Uganda, asylum seeker in Kakuma (Kenya). Single mom and LGBTQ activist.

<figure><img src="image_6.png" /></figure>

"There is a dream that really confused me and was like reality, I dreamed that I was sleeping but my bed was like in the middle of the forest and it was up. And then downstairs there was water. **And something was coming like a snake on my bed and then it could talk.** He said, "If you sleep with me, everything is fine, but if you refuse to sleep with me, I will throw you down and you will die". I said, "No, I can't sleep with you", so he took my hand and threw me down. But luckily, the wind pushed me almost to the shore. But when I tried to get out of the water, I saw two men wearing robes – in our language we call it "kanzus". Muslims wear them in white. They are very traditional and chase people like me, who are lesbian. They were holding spears and wanted to kill me and I had to come back and cross the lake again. But when they cross the lake, they fall in the water if they try because they see me walking in the water, running without falling in, they come too. But when they come, they keep falling and drowning. **But I don't drown. I reach the other side and I still find the same men, the other men.** So I had to go back to the share. And I started screaming "Jesus! Jesus! Jesus!", even the people in my room, around me heard me screaming. (...) It was so real to me. The last time the dream came back, after I got out of the water, there was someone I was fighting with. It was a giant man; I didn't know him but we were fighting. I fought him. And then I could hear someone telling me that, "You fight, you fight hard, you can win." And when that voice came to me, I thought, "Yes, I can do this." (...) I fought the man until he was down and I woke up. These are the dreams that come to me most often." (Kakuma, 2022)
Joseph, 32, South Sudan, asylum seeker in Calais (France)

<figure><img src="image_10.png" /></figure>

"It's a dream I've had for a short time. I've had it a few times, but I'm not sure. Maybe twice or three times. It started after I arrived in France. (...) It's a white room, with white walls, white windows, white curtains. It's all white, like a hospital, but it's not a hospital. It is a waiting room and people can see me. I fell it. The walls are huge and I can't figure out if the walls are really big or if I'm the one who is tiny. I think I once wondered if it was me who had really become small or if it was the room that had gone crazy (sic). Nothing is happening and I feel like time is moving slowly, but I think a lot. I have ideas that cross my mind and I am afraid, like in a chase with dogs, except that it is still, sitting, in a waiting room and I am all alone (...) Then at a moment someone in front of me arrives and speaks to me but I could not say who it is, perhaps a man, better dressed than me. And the questions begin. This is a relief, but I quickly realize that this is not a conversation. It is not even an exam, although it looks like one. It's not real, it's a game, and everyone knows it. (...) I don't really listen and everything seems to be going normally. I just say things with words I don't know. And once I dreamed this very scene in a language that was not mine at all. And the next thing I know I'm cold, I'm scared, I'm soaking wet and nothing else is happening." (Calais, 2021)

"To be sure, this extreme of an artificially fabricated insanity can be achieved only in a totalitarian world"

(H. Arendt, *The Origins of Totalitarianism*, 1966)
Joseph, 32, South Sudan, asylum seeker in Calais (France)

<figure><img src="image_7.png" /></figure>

"It's a dream I've had for a short time. I've had it a few times, but I'm not sure. Maybe twice or three times. It started after I arrived in France. (...) It's a white room, with white walls, white windows, white curtains. It's all white, like a hospital, but it's not a hospital. It is a waiting room and people can see me. I fell it. The walls are huge and I can't figure out if the walls are really big or if I'm the one who is tiny. I think I once wondered if it was me who had really become small or if it was the room that had gone crazy (sic). Nothing is happening and I feel like time is moving slowly, but I think a lot. I have ideas that cross my mind and I am afraid, like in a chase with dogs, except that it is still, sitting, in a waiting room and I am all alone (...) Then at a moment someone in front of me arrives and speaks to me but I could not say who it is, perhaps a man, better dressed than me. And the questions begin. This is a relief, but I quickly realize that this is not a conversation. It is not even an exam, although it looks like one. It's not real, it's a game, and everyone knows it. (...) I don't really listen and everything seems to be going normally. I just say things with words I don't know. And once I dreamed this very scene in a language that was not mine at all. And the next thing I know I'm cold, I'm scared, I'm soaking wet and nothing else is happening." (Calais, 2021)

"To be sure, this extreme of an artificially fabricated insanity can be achieved only in a totalitarian world"

(H. Arendt, *The Origins of Totalitarianism*, 1966)
« Ce en quoi la philosophie rencontre son réel, c'est la pratique de la philosophie entendue comme l'ensemble des pratiques par lesquelles le sujet a rapport à lui-même, s'élabore lui-même, travaille sur soi. Le travail de soi sur soi, c'est le réel de la philosophie » (GSA, 224).

<figure><img src="image_11.png" /></figure>
« Ce en quoi la philosophie rencontre son réel, c'est la pratique de la philosophie entendue comme l'ensemble des pratiques par lesquelles le sujet a rapport à lui-même, s'élabore lui-même, travaille sur soi. Le travail de soi sur soi, c'est le réel de la philosophie » (GSA, 224).

<figure><img src="image_8.png" /></figure>