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PAULO FREIRE  PEDAGOGY of the OPPRESSED ;  • 30TH ANNIVERSARY EDITION • Translated by Myra Bergman Ramos With an Introduction by Donaldo Macedo • A  continuum  I f N E W YORK • LONDON 2005  The Continuum International Publishing Group Inc  15 East 26,h Street, New York, NY  10010  The Continuum International Publishing Group Ltd  The Tower Building,  11 York Road, London SE1 7NX  Copyright  ©  1970,  1993 by Paulo  Freire  Introduction  ©  2000  by  Donaldo  Macedo  All rights reserved.  No part of this book  may be  reproduced,  stored  in  a retrieval  system,  or transmitted,  in any form  or  by any means,  electronic,  mechanical, photocopying,  recording,  or otherwise,  without  the written permission  of  The  Continuum  International  Publishing Group Inc.  Printed in the  United  States of America  Library of  Congress  Cataloging­in­Publication  Data  Freire,  Paulo,  1921­ [Pedagogia  del  oprimido.  English]  Pedagogy of  the  oppressed /  Paulo  Freire  ; translated by Myra  Bergman  Ramos  ; introduction  by  Donaldo  Macedo.—30th  anniversary ed.  p.  cm.  Includes  bibliographical  references.  ISBN  0­8264­1276­9  (alk. paper)  1.  Freire,  Paulo,  1921­  2.  Education—Philosophy.  3. Popular  education—Philosophy.  4. Critical pedagogy.  I. Title.  LB880.F73  P4313  2000  370.11*5—dc21  00-030304 To the oppressed, and to those who suffer with them and fight at their side Contents Publisher's Foreword 9 Introduction to the Anniversary Edition b y DONALDO MACEDO 11 Foreword by RICHARD SHAULL 29 Preface ^ 35 Chapter 1 43 The justification for a pedagogy of the oppressed; the contradiction between the oppressors and the oppressed, and how it is overcome; oppression and the oppressors; oppression and the oppressed; liberation: not a gift, not a self-achievement, but a mutual process. Chapter 2 71 The "banking" concept of education as an instrument of oppression— its presuppositions—a critique; the problem-posing concept of education as an instrument for liberation—-its presuppositions; the "banking" concept and the teacher-student contradiction; the problem-posing concept and the supersedence of the teacher- student contradiction; education: a mutual process, world-mediated; people as uncompleted beings, conscious of their incompletion, and their attempt to be more fully human. 8•CONTENTS Chapter 3 87 Dialogics—the essence of education as the practice of freedom; dialogics and dialogue; dialogue and the search for program content; the human-world relationship, "generative themes," and the program content of education as the practice of freedom; the investigation of "generative themes" and its methodology; the awakening of critical consciousness through the investigation of "generative themes"; the various stages of the investigation. Chapter 4 125 Antidialogics and dialogics as matrices of opposing theories of cultural action: the former as an instrument of oppression and the latter as an instrument of liberation; the theory of antidialogical action and its characteristics: conquest, divide and rule, manipulation, and cultural invasion; the theory of dialogical action and its characteristics: cooperation, unity, organization, and cultural synthesis. Publisher's Foreword This is the thirtieth anniversary of the publication in the United States of Pedagogy of the Oppressed. Since the original publication, this rev- olutionary work has gone into more than a score of printings and sold over 750,000 copies worldwide. In his foreword to the first edition, which is included in this one, Richard Shaull wrote: In this country, we are gradually becoming aware of the work of Paulo Freire, but thus^far we have thought of it primarily in terms of its contribution to the education of illiterate adults in the Third World. If, however, we take a close look, we may discover that his methodology as well as his educational philosophy are as im- portant for us as for the dispossessed in Latin America.... For this reason, I consider the publication of Pedagogy of the Op- pressed in an English edition to be something of an event. These words have proved prophetic. Freire's books have since taken on a considerable relevance for educators in our own technologically advanced society, which to our detriment acts to program the indi- vidual—especially the disadvantaged—to a rigid conformity. A new underclass has been created, and it is everyone's responsibility to react thoughtfully and positively to the situation. This is the underlying message of Pedagogy of the Oppressed. As times change so do attitudes and beliefs. The translation has been modified—and the volume has been newly typeset—to reflect the connection between liberation and inclusive language. An impor- tant introduction by Donaldo Macedo has been added. This revised thirtieth-anniversary edition of Pedagogy of the Op- pressed thus represents a fresh expression of a work that will continue to stimulate and shape the thought of educators and citizens everywhere. Introduction Never in my wildest dreams would I have imagined when I first read Pedagogy of the Oppressed in 1971 that, a decade later, I would be engaged in a very close collaboration with its author, Paulo Freire— a collaboration that lasted sixteen years until his untimely death on May 2, 1997. Never in my wildest dreams would I have thought that, today, I would have the honor to write an introduction to commem- orate the thirtieth anniversary of the publication of Pedagogy of the Oppressed, a book that according to Stanley Aronowitz, "meets the single criterion of a 'classic' " in that "it has outlived its own time and its authors." I remember vividly my first encounter with Pedagogy of the Op- pressed, as a colonized young man from Cape Verde who had been struggling with significant questions of cultural identity, yearning to break away from the yoke of Portuguese colonialism. Reading Peda- gogy of the Oppressed gave me a language to critically understand the tensions, contradictions, fears, doubts, hopes, and "deferred" dreams that are part and parcel of living a borrowed and colonized cultural existence. Reading Pedagogy of the Oppressed also gave me the inner strength to begin the arduous process of transcending a colonial ex- istence that is almost culturally schizophrenic: being present and yet not visible, being visible and yet not present. It is a condition that I painfully experienced in the United States, constantly juggling the power asymmetry of the two worlds, two cultures, and two languages. Reading Pedagogy of the Oppressed gave me the critical tools to re- flect on, and understand, the process through which we come to know what it means to be at the periphery of the intimate yet fragile rela- tionship between the colonizer and the colonized. 12 • INTRODUCTION Paulo Freire's invigorating critique of the dominant banking model of education leads to his democratic proposals of problem-posing ed- ucation where "men and women develop their power to perceive crit- ically the way they exist in the world with which and in which they find themselves; they come to see the world not as a static reality but as a reality in the process of transformation." This offered to me— and all of those who experience subordination through an imposed assimilation policy—a path through which we come to understand what it means to come to cultural voice. It is a process that always involves pain and hope; a process through which, as forced cultural jugglers, we can come to subjectivity, transcending our object position in a society that hosts us yet is alien. It is not surprising that my friends back in Cape Verde—and, for that matter in most totalitarian states—risked cruel punishment, in- cluding imprisonment, if they were caught reading Pedagogy of the Oppressed. I remember meeting a South African student in Boston who told me that students would photocopy chapters of Pedagogy of the Oppressed and share them with their classmates and peers. Some- times, given the long list of students waiting to read Freire, they would have to wait for weeks before they were able to get their hands on a photocopied chapter. These students, and students like them in Central America, South America, Tanzania, Chile, Guinea-Bissau and other nations struggling to overthrow totalitarianism and oppression, passionately embraced Freire and his proposals for liberation. It is no wonder that his success in teaching Brazilian peasants how to read landed him in prison and led to a subsequent long and painful exile. Oppressed people all over the world identified with Paulo Freire's denunciation of the oppressive conditions that were choking millions of poor people, including a large number of middle-class families that had bitterly begun to experience the inhumanity of hunger in a po- tentially very rich and fertile country. Freire's denunciation of oppression was not merely the intellectual exercise that we often find among many facile liberals and pseudo- critical educators. His intellectual brilliance and courage in denounc- ing the structures of oppression were rooted in a very real and material experience, as he recounts in Letters to Cristina: INTRODUCTION • 13 It was a real and concrete hunger that had no specific date of departure. Even though it never reached the rigor of the hunger experienced by some people I know, it was not the hunger ex- perienced by those who undergo a tonsil operation or are dieting. On the contrary, our hunger was of the type that arrives unan- nounced and unauthorized, making itself at home without an end in sight. A hunger that, if it was not softened as ours was, would take over our bodies, molding them into angular shapes. Legs, arms, and fingers become skinny. Eye sockets become deeper, making the eyes almost disappear. Many of our classmates ex- perienced this hunger and today it continues to afflict millions of Brazilians who die of its violence every year.1 Thus, Pedagogy of the Oppressed has its roots in Paulo Freire's lived experiences. The experience of hunger as a child of a middle-class family that had lost its economic base enabled Freire to, on the one hand, identify and develop "solidarity with the children from the poor outskirts of town"2 and, on the other hand, to realize that "in spite of the hunger that gave us solidarity... in spite of the bond that united us in our search for ways to survive—our playtime, as far as the poor children were concerned, ranked us as people from another world who hap- pened to fall accidentally into their world."3 It is the realization of such class borders that led, invariably, to Freire's radical rejection of a class-based society. Although some strands of postmodernism would dismiss Freire's detailed class analysis in Pedagogy of the Oppressed, it is an enormous mistake, if not academic dishonesty, to pretend that we now live in a classless world. Although Freire understood very well that "material oppression and the affective investments that tie oppressed groups to the logic of domination cannot be grasped in all of their complexity within a singular logic of class struggle/'4 he consistently argued that a thorough understanding of oppression must always take a detour through some form of class analysis. Until his death, he courageously denounced the neoliberal position that promotes the false notion of the end of history and the end of class. Freire always viewed history as possibility, "recognizing that History is time filled with possibility and not inexorably determined— 14 • INTRODUCTION that the future is problematic and not already decided, fatalistically,"5 In like manner, Freire continued to reject any false claim to the end of class struggle. Whereas he continually revised his earlier class anal- yses, he never abandoned or devalued class as an important theoret- ical category in our search for a better comprehension of conditions of oppression. In a long dialogue we had during his last visit to New York—in fact, the last time we worked together—he again said that although one cannot reduce everything to class, class remains an im- portant factor in our understanding of multiple forms of oppression. While poststructuralists may want to proclaim the end of class anal- ysis, they still have to account for the horrendous human conditions that led, as Freire recounted, a family in Northeast Brazil to scavenge a landfill and take "pieces of an amputated human breast with which they prepared their Sunday lunch/' 6 Freire also never accepted the ' poststructuralism tendency to trans- late diverse forms of class, race, and gender based oppression to the discursive space of subject positions/'7 He always appreciated the the- oretical complexity of multifactor analyses while never underestimat- ing the role of class. For example, he resisted the essentialist approach of reducing all analysis to one monolithic entity of race. For instance, African functionaries who assimilate to colonial cultural values con- stitute a distinct class with very different ideological cultural values and aspirations than the bulk of the population. Likewise, it would be a mistake to view all African Americans as one monolithic cultural group without marked differences: United States Supreme Court Jus- tice Clarence Thomas is black, after all (and conservative). Somewhat similar gulfs exist between the vast mass of African Americans who remain subordinated and reduced to ghettoes and middle-class Afri- can Americans who, in some sense, have also partly abandoned the subordinated mass of African Americans. I am reminded of a discus- sion I had with a personal friend of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who had joined him in the important struggle to end segregation and op- pression during the 1960s. During our discussion, King's friend re- marked, "Donaldo, you are right. We are using euphemisms such as Economically marginal' and avoid more pointed terms like 'oppres- I N T R O D U C T I O N  • 15  sion/ I confess that I often feel uneasy when I am invited to discuss at institutions issues pertaining to the community. In reality, I haven't been there in over twenty years." Having achieved great personal success and having moved to a middle-class reality, this African Amer- ican gentleman began to experience a distance from other African Americans who remain abandoned in ghettoes. In a recent discussion with a group of students, a young African American man who attends an Ivy League university told me that his parents usually vote with the white middle class, even if, in the long run, their vote is ^detrimental to the reality of most black people. Thus, we see again that race, itself, is not necessarily a unifying force. Freire never abandoned his position with respect to class analysis as theorized in Pedagogy of the Oppressed. However, as he continually did, he reconstituted his earlier position throughout the years, partic- ularly in our co-authored book Ideology Matters. In it Freire argues that whereas, for example, "one cannot reduce the analysis of racism to social class, one cannot understand racism fully without a class analysis, for to do one at the expense of the other is to fall prey into a sectarianist position, which is as despicable as the racism that we need to reject."8 In essence, Freire's later works make it clear that what is important is to approach the analysis of oppression through a convergent theoretical framework where the object of oppression is cut across by such factors as race, class, gender, culture, language, and ethnicity. Thus, he would reject any theoretical analysis that would collapse the multiplicity of factors into a monolithic entity, in- cluding class. Although Freire was readily embraced in societies struggling against colonialism and other forms of totalitarianism, his acceptance in the so-called open and democratic societies, such as the United States and the nations of Western Europe, has been more prob- lematic. Even though he has an international reputation and follow- ing, his work is, sadly, not central to the curricula of most schools of education whose major responsibility is to prepare the next genera- tion of teachers. This relative marginality of Freire's work in the school-of-education curricula is partly due to the fact that most of 16  •  I N T R O D U C T I O N  these schools are informed by the positivistic and management models that characterize the very culture of ideologies and practices to which Freire was in opposition all his life. For example, the Harvard Grad- uate School of Education sanctions a graduate course called "Literacy Politics and Policies" without requiring students to read, critique, and analyze the work of Freire. In fact, one can get a doctoral degree from this school, or from others, without ever learning about, much less reading, Paulo Freire. This is tantamount to getting a doctoral degree in Linguistics without ever reading Noam Chomsky, The fol- lowing illustrates my point. In a lecture at Harvard that analyzed Paulo Freire's theories, given by Professor Ramon Flecha from the University of Barcelona, a doctoral student approached me and asked the following: "I don't want to sound naive, but who is this Paulo Freire that Professor Flecha is citing so much?" I wonder, how can one expect this doctoral student to know the work of "perhaps the most significant educator in the world during the last half of the cen- tury" in the words of Herbert Kohl,9 when his graduate school pre- tends that Paulo Freire never existed? Whereas students in the Third World and other nations struggling with totalitarian regimes would risk their freedom, if not their lives, to read Paulo Freire, in our so-called open societies his work suffers from a more sophisticated form of censorship: omission. This "aca- demic selective selection" of bodies of knowledge, which borders on censorship of critical educators, is partly to blame for the lack of knowledge of Paulo Freire's significant contributions to the field of education. Even many liberals who have embraced his ideas and ed- ucational practices often reduce his theoretical work and leading phil- osophical ideas to a mechanical methodology. I am reminded of a panel that was convened to celebrate Freire's life and work at Harvard after his death. In a large conference room filled to capacity and with people standing in hallways, a panelist who had obviously reduced Freire's leading ideas to a mechanized dialogical practice passed a note to the moderator of the panel suggesting that she give everyone in the room twenty seconds to say something in keeping with the spirit of Freire. This was the way not to engage Freire's belief in INTRODUCTION • 17 emancipation—unless one believes that his complex theory of op- pression can be reduced to a twenty-second sound bite. Part of the problem with this mechanization of Freire's leading philosophical and political ideas is that many psudocritical educators, in the name of liberation pedagogy, often sloganize Freire by straitjacketing his rev- olutionary politics to an empty cliche of the dialogical method. Pseudo-Freirean educators not only strip him of the essence of his radical pedagogical proposals that go beyond the classroom bound- aries and effect significant changes in the society as well: these edu- cators also fail to understand the epistemological relationship of dialogue. According to Freire, In order to understand the meaning of dialogical practice, we have to put aside the simplistic understanding of dialogue as a mere technique. Dialogue does not represent a somewhat false path that I attempt to elaborate on and realize in the sense of involving the ingenuity of the other. On the contrary, dialogue characterizes an epistemological relationship. Thus, in this sense, dialogue is a way of knowing and should never be viewed as a mere tactic to involve students in a particular task. We have to make this point very clear. I engage in dialogue not necessarily because I like the other person. I engage in dialogue because I recognize the social and not merely the individualistic character of the process of knowing. In this sense, dialogue presents itself as an indispensable component of the process of both learning and knowing.10 Unfortunately, in the United States, many educators who claim to be Freirean in their pedagogical orientation mistakenly transform Fre- ire's notion of dialogue into a method, thus losing sight of the fact that the fundamental goal of dialogical teaching is to create a process of learning and knowing that invariably involves theorizing about the experiences shared in the dialogue process. Some strands of critical pedagogy engage in an overdose of experiential celebration that offers a reductionistic view of identity^ leading Henry Giroux to point out that such pedagogy leaves identity and experience removed from the problematics of power, agency, and history. By overindulging in the 18 • INTRODUCTION legacy and importance of their respective voices and experiences, these educators often fail to move beyond a notion of difference struc- tured in polarizing binarisms and uncritical appeals to the discourse of experience. I believe that it is for this reason that some of these educators invoke a romantic pedagogical mode that "exoticizes" dis- cussing lived experiences as a process of coming to voice. At the same time, educators who misinterpret Freire's notion of dialogical teaching also refuse to link experiences to the politics of culture and critical democracy, thus reducing their pedagogy to a form of middle-class narcissism. This creates, on the one hand, the transformation of dia- logical teaching into a method invoking conversation that provides participants with a group-therapy space for stating their grievances. On the other hand, it offers the teacher as facilitator a safe pedagog- ical zone to deal with his or her class guilt. It is a process that bell hooks characterizes as nauseating in that it brooks no dissent. Simply put, as Freire reminded us, "what these educators are calling dialog- ical is a process that hides the true nature of dialogue as a process of learning and knowing. . . .Understanding dialogue as a process of learning and knowing establishes a previous requirement that always involves an epistemological curiosity about the very elements of the dialogue."11 That is to say, dialogue must require an ever-present cu- riosity about the object of knowledge. Thus, dialogue is never an end in itself but a means to develop a better comprehension about the object of knowledge. Otherwise, one could end up with dialogue as conversation where individual lived experiences are given primacy. I have been in many contexts where the over-celebration of one's own location and history often eclipses the possibility of engaging the ob- ject of knowledge by refusing to struggle directly, for instance, with readings involving an object of knowledge, particularly if these read- ings involve theory. As Freire himself decidedly argued, Curiosity about the object of knowledge and the willingness and openness to engage theoretical readings and discussions is fun- damental. However, I am not suggesting an over-celebration of I N T R O D U C T I O N  • 19  theory. We must not negate practice for the sake of theory. To do so would reduce theory to a pure verbalism or intellectual- ism. By the same token, to negate theory for the sake of prac- tice, as in the use of dialogue as conversation, is to run the risk of losing oneself in the disconnectedness of practice. It is for this reason that I never advocate either a theoretic elitism or a practice ungrounded in theory, but the unity between theory and practice. In order to achieve this unity, one must have an epistemological curiosity—a curiosity that is often missing in di- alogue as conversation.12 That is, when students lack both the necessary epistemological cu- riosity and a certain conviviality with the object of knowledge under study, it is difficult to create conditions that increase their epistemo- logical curiosity in order to develop the necessary intellectual tools that will enable him or her to apprehend and comprehend the object of knowledge. If students are not able to transform their lived expe- riences into knowledge and to use the already acquired knowledge as a process to unveil new knowledge, they will never be able to partic- ipate rigorously in a dialogue as a process of learning and knowing. In truth, how can one dialogue without any prior apprenticeship with the object of knowledge and without any epistemological curiosity? For example, how can anyone dialogue about linguistics if the teacher refuses to create the pedagogical conditions that will apprentice stu- dents into the new body of knowledge? By this I do not mean that the apprenticeship process should be reduced to the authoritarian tradition of lecturing without student input and discussion. What be- comes very clear is that the bureaucratization of the dialogical process represents yet another mechanism used by even some progressive educators to diminish Freire's radical revolutionary and transformative proposals through a process that gives rise to politics without content. Thus, it is not surprising that some liberals join conservative educators to critique Freire for what they characterize as "radical ties." For example, Gregory Jay and Gerald Graff have argued that Freire's pro- posal in Pedagogy of the Oppressed to move students toward "a crit- ical perception of the world"—which "implies a correct method of approaching reality" so that they can get "a comprehension of total 20 • INTRODUCTION reality"—assumes that Freire already knows the identity of the op- pressed. As Jay and Graff point out, "Freire assumes that we know from the outset the identity of the Oppressed' ahd their 'oppressors/ Who the oppressors and the oppressed are is conceived not as an open question that teachers and students might disagree about, but as a given of Freirean pedagogy."13 This form of critique presupposes that education should be nondirective and neutral, a posture that Freire always opposed: "I must intervene in teaching the peasants that their hunger is socially constructed and work with them to help identify those responsible for this social construction, which is, in my view, a crime against humanity."14 Therefore, we need to intervene not only pedagogically but also ethically. Before any intervention, however, an educator must have political clarity—posture that makes many liberals like Graff very uncomfortable to the degree that he considers "Radical educational theorists such as Freire, Henry Giroux, and Stanley Aronowitz . . . [as having a] tunnel-vision style of. . . writ- ing . . . which speaks of but never to those who oppose its premises."15 The assumption that Freire, Giroux, and Aronowitz engage in a "tunnel-vision style of. . . writing" is not only false: it also points to a distorted notion that there is an a priori agreed-upon style of writing that is monolithic, available to all, and "free of jargon." This blind and facile call for writing clarity represents a pernicious mechanism used by academic liberals who suffocate discourses different from their own. Such a call often ignores how language is being used to make social inequality invisible. It also assumes that the only way to deconstruct ideologies of oppression is through a discourse that in- volves what these academics characterize as a language of clarity. When I was working with Freire on the book Literacy: Reading the Word and the World, I asked a colleague whom I considered to be politically aggressive and to have a keen understanding of Freire's work to read the manuscript. Yet, during a discussion we had about this, she asked me, a bit irritably, "Why do you and Paulo insist on using Marxist jargon? Many readers who may enjoy reading Paulo may be put off by the jargon." I was at first taken aback, but proceeded to explain calmly to her that the equation of Marxism with jargon did INTRODUCTION ' 2 1 not fully capture the richness of Freire's analysis. In fact, I reminded her that Freire's language was the only means through which he could have done justice to the complexity of the various concepts dealing with oppression. For one thing, I reminded her, "Imagine that instead of writing Pedagogy of the Oppressed Freire had written "Pedagogy of the Disenfranchised.77 The first title utilizes a discourse that names the oppressor, whereas the second fails to do so. If you have an "op- pressed," you must have an "oppressor/' What would be the coun- terpart of disenfranchised? "Pedagogy of the Disenfranchised77 dislodges the agent of the action while leaving in doubt who bears the responsibility for such action. This leaves the ground wide open for blaming the victim of disenfranchisement for his or her own dis- enfranchisement. This example is a clear case in which the object of oppression can also be understood as the subject of oppression. Lan- guage like this distorts reality. And yet, mainstream academics like Graff seldom object to these linguistic distortions that disfigure reality. I seldom hear academics on a crusade for "language clarity" equate mainstream terms such as "disenfranchised" or "ethnic cleansing," for example, to jargon status. On the one hand, they readily accept "ethnic cleansing," a euphemism for genocide, while, on the other hand, they will, with certain autom- atism, point to the jargon quality of terms such as "oppression/' "sub- ordination," and "praxis." If we were to deconstruct the term "ethnic cleansing" we would see that it prevents us from becoming horrified by Serbian brutality and horrendous crimes against Bosnian Muslims. The mass killing of women, children, and the elderly and the rape of women and girls as young as five years old take on the positive at- tribute of "cleansing," which leads us to conjure a reality of "purifi- cation" of the ethnic "filth" ascribed to Bosnian Muslims, in particular, and to Muslims the world over, in general. I also seldom heard any real protest from the same academics who want "language clarity" when, during the Gulf War, the horrific blood bath of the battlefield became a "theater of operation," and the violent killing of over one hundred thousand Iraqis, including innocent women, children, and the elderly by our "smart bombs," was sanitized 22 • INTRODUCTION into a technical term: "collateral damage." I can go on with examples to point out how academics who argue for clarity of language not only seldom object to language that obfuscates reality, but often use the same language as part of the general acceptance that the "standard" discourse is given and should remain unproblematic. Although these academics accept the dominant standard discourse, they aggressively object to any discourse that both fractures the dominant language and bares the veiled reality in order to name it. Thus, a discourse that names it becomes, in their view, imprecise and unclear, and wholesale euphemisms such as "disadvantaged," "disenfranchised," "educational mortality," "theater of operation," "collateral damage," and "ethnic cleansing" remain unchallenged since they are part of the dominant social construction of images that are treated as un- problematic and clear. I am often amazed to hear academics complain about the com- plexity of a particular discourse because of its alleged lack of clarity. It is as if they have assumed that there is a mono-discourse that is characterized by its clarity and is also equally available to all. If one begins to probe the issue of clarity, we soon realize that it is class specific, thus favoring those of that class in the meaning- making process. The following two examples will bring the point home: Henry Gi- roux and I gave a speech at Massasoit Community College in Mas- sachusetts to approximately three hundred unwed mothers who were part of a GED (graduate-equivalency diploma) program. The director of the program later informed us that most of the students were con- sidered functionally illiterate. After Giroux's speech, during the ques- tion-and-answer period, a woman got up and eloquently said, "Professor Giroux, all my life I felt the things you talked about. I just didn't have a language to express what I have felt. Today I have come to realize that I do have a language. Thank you." And Paulo Freire told me the story of what happened to him at the time he was pre- paring the English translation of Pedagogy of the Oppressed. He gave an African American student at Harvard a chapter of the book to read to see how she would receive it. A few days later when he asked the INTRODUCTION ' 2 3 woman if she had read it, she enthusiastically responded, "Yes. Not only did I read it, but I gave it to my sixteen-year-old son to read. He read the whole chapter that night and in the morning said, 'I want to meet the man who wrote this. He is talking about me/ " One question that I have for all those "highly literate" academics who find Giroux's and Freire's discourse so difficult to understand is, Why is it that a sixteen-year-old boy and a poor, "semiliterate" woman could so easily understand and connect with the complexity of both Freire and Girouxs language and ideas, and the academics, who should be the most literate, find the language incomprehensible? I believe that the answer has little to do with language and every- thing to do with ideology. That is, people often identify with repre- sentations that they are either comfortable with or that help deepen their understanding of themselves. The call for language clarity is an ideological issue, not merely a linguistic one. The sixteen-year-old and the semiliterate poor woman could readily connect with Freire's ide- ology, whereas the highly literate academics are "put off by some dimensions of the "same ideology. It is, perhaps, for this reason that a university professor I know failed to include Freire's work in a grad- uate course that she taught on literacy. When I raised the issue with her, she explained that students often find Freire's writing too difficult and cumbersome. It could also be the reason that the Divinity School at Harvard University offers a course entitled "Education for Liber- ation," in which students study Freire and James Cone extensively, whereas no such opportunities are available at Harvard's School of Education. For me, the mundane call for a language of "simplicity and clarity" represents yet another mechanism to dismiss the complexity of the- oretical issues, particularly if these theoretical constructs interrogate the prevailing dominant ideology. It is for this very reason that Gayatri Spivak correctly points out that the call for "plain prose cheats." I would go a step further and say, "The call for plain prose not only cheats, it also bleaches." For me, it is not only plain prose that bleaches. Gerald Graffs pedagogy of "teaching the conflict" also bleaches to the extent that it 24 • INTRODUCTION robs students of the opportunity to access the critical discourses that will enable them not only to deconstruct the colonial and hegemonic paradigms, but will also help them realize that one cannot teach con- flict as if, all of a sudden, it fell from the sky. The conflict must be anchored in those competing histories and ideologies that generated the conflict in the first place. David Goldberg captures this problem when he argues that Graffs suggestion: presupposes that educators—even the humanists of Graffs ad- dress—occupy a neutral position, or at least can suspend their prejudices, in presenting the conflicts, and that the conflicts are fixed and immobile. One cannot teach the conflicts (or anything else, for that matter) by assuming this neutral "view from no- where," for it is no view at all. In other words, the Assumption of a View from Nowhere is the projection of local values as neu- trally universal ones, the globalizing of ethnocentric values, as Stam and Shohat put it.16 The problem with the teaching of the conflict is that the only re- ferent for engaging authority is a methodological one. As a result, Graff demeans the ability of oppressed people to name their oppres- sion as a pedagogical necessity and, at the same time, he dismisses the politics of pedagogy that "could empower 'minorities' and build on privileged students' minimal experience of 'otherization' " to help them imagine alternative subject positions and divergent social designs.17 As one can readily see, the mechanization of Freire's revolutionary pedagogical proposals not only leads to the depolitization of his rad- ically democratic work but also creates spaces for even those liberals who embrace Freire's proposals to confuse "the term he employs to summarize his approach to education, pedagogy' [which] is often in- terpreted as a 'teaching method rather than a philosophy or a social theory. Few who invoke his name make the distinction. To be sure, neither does The Oxford English Dictionary. "lH This seeming lack of distinction is conveniently adopted by those educators who believe that education is neutral as they engage in a social construction of not I N T R O D U C T I O N  ' 2 5  seeing. That is, they willfully refuse to understand that the very term "pedagogy," as my good friend and colleague Panagiota Gounari ex- plains it, has Greek roots, meaning "to lead a child" (from pais: child and ago: to lead). Thus, as the term "pedagogy" illustrates, education is inherently directive and must always be transformative. As Stanley Aronowitz so succinctly argues, "Freire's pedagogy is grounded in a fully developed philosophical anthropology, that is, a theory of human nature, one might say a secular liberation theology, containing its own categories that are irreducible to virtually any other philosophy."19 The misinterpretation of Freire's philosophical and revolutionary ped- agogical proposals in Pedagogy of the Oppressed and his subsequent books lies not only in the depolitization of his revolutionary aim "to transform what Frantz Fannon terms 'the wretched of the earth' from 'being for others' to 'beings for themselves,' "20 but also in the disar- ticulation of Freire's thinking from his enormous debt to a philo- sophical tradition that included Marx, Gramsci, Hegel, and Sartre among others. Although I was immobilized when I received the devastating news that Paulo Freire, my friend, my collaborator, my teacher, and my mentor, had died, I found comfort in the certainty that Pedagogy of the Oppressed had indeed "outlived its own time and its author's." I found comfort in the immeasurable hope that Paulo represented for those of us who are committed to imagine a world, in his own words, that is less ugly, more beautiful, less discriminatory, more democratic, less dehumanizing, and more humane. In his work and in his life, Paulo teaches us and the world—with his hallmark humility—what it means to be an intellectual who fights against the temptation of be- coming a populist intellectual. As always, he teaches us with his pen- etrating and unquiet mind the meaning of a profound commitment to fight sopial injustices in our struggle to recapture the loss of our dignity as human beings. In Paulo's own words: We need to say no to the neoliberal fatalism that we are wit- nessing at the end of this century, informed by the ethics of the market, an ethics in which a minority makes most profits against 26 • INTRODUCTION the lives of the majority. In other words, those who cannot compete, die. This is a perverse ethics that, in fact, lacks ethics. I insist on saying that I continue to be human . . . I would then remain the last educator in the world to say no: I do not accept. . . history as determinism. I embrace history as pos- sibility [where] we can demystify the evil in this perverse fa- talism that characterizes the neoliberal discourse in the end of this century.21 Paulo Freire did not realize his dream of entering the twenty-first century full of hope for "a world that is more round, less ugly, and more just." Although he did not hold our hands as we crossed the threshold of the twenty-first century, his words of wisdom, his pen- etrating and insightful ideas, his courage to denounce in order to announce, his courage to love and "to speak about love without fear of being called ascientific, if not antiscientific," his humility, and his humanity make him immortal—a forever-present force that keeps alive our understanding of history as possibility. I always accepted with humility Paulo's challenge through the co- herence and humility he exemplified. With much sadness, magoa, but also with much affection and hope, I say, once more, thank you Paulo: for having been present in the world, for having given us Pedagogy of the Oppressed, for having taught us how to read the world and for challenging us to humanize the world. DONALDO MACEDO Distinguished Professor of Liberal Arts and Education University of Massachusetts, Boston INTRODUCTION -27 Notes 1. Paulo Freire, Letters to Cristina. (New York: Routledge, 1996), p. 15. 2. Ibid. p. 21. 3. Ibid. 4. Henry A. Giroux, "Radical Pedagogy and Educated Hope: Remem- bering Taulo Freire." Typewritten manuscript. 5. Ibid. 6. Paulo Freire and Donaldo Macedo, Ideology Matters (Boulder CO.: Rowman & Littlefield), forthcoming. 7. Henry A. Giroux, "Radical Pedagogy and Educated Hope." 8. Paulo Freire and Donaldo Macedo, Ideology Matters. 9. Herbert Kohl, "Paulo Freire: Liberation Pedagogy" in The Nation, May 26, 1997, p. 7. 10. Paulo Freire and Donaldo Macedo, "A Dialogue: Culture, Language, and Race" in Harvard Educational Review, vol. 65, no. 3, fall 1995, p. 379. 11. Ibid. p. 382. 12. Ibid. 13. Gregory Jay and Gerald Graff, "A Critique of Critical Pedagogy," Higher Education under Fire, ed. Michael Barube and Gary Nelson (New York: Routledge, 1995), p. 203. 14. Paulo Freire and Donaldo Macedo, "A Dialogue: Culture, Language, and Race," p. 379. 15. Gerald Graff, "Academic Writing and the Uses of Bad Publicity," Eloquent Obsessions, ed. Mariana Torgormick (Chapel Hill: Duke University Press, 1994), p. 215. 16., David Theo Goldberg, "Introduction," Multiculturalism: A Critical Reader, ed. David Theo Goldberg (Oxford, UK: Blackwell, 1994), p. 19. 17. Robert Stam and Ella Shohat, "Contested Histories? Eurocentrism, Multiculturalism, and the Media," Multiculturalism: A Critical Reader, p. 19. 18. Stanley Aronowitz, "Paulo Freire's Radical Democratic Humanism" in Peter McLaren and Peter Leonard, Paulo Freire: A Critical Encounter (London: Routledge, 1993), p. 8. 19. Ibid. p. 12. 20. Ibid. p. 13. 21. Paulo Freire and Donaldo Macedo, Ideology Matters. Forewoid Over  the  years,  the  thought  and  work  of  the  Brazilian  educator  Paulo Freire have spread from the North East of Brazil to an entire  continent, and have made a profound impact not only in the field of  education but also in the overall struggle for national development.  At  the  precise  moment  when  the  disinherited  masses  in  Latin  America are awakening from their traditional lethargy and are anx­ ious to participate,  as Subjects,  in the  development  of their coun­ tries,  Paulo  Freire  has perfected  a method  for teaching  illiterates  that has contributed, in an extraordinary way, to that process. In fact,  those who, in learning to read and write, come to a new awareness of  selfhood and begin to look critically at the social situation in which  they find themselves, often take the initiative in acting to transform  the society that has denied them  this opportunity  of participation.  Education is once again a subversive force.  In this country,  we are gradually becoming aware of the work of  Paulo Freire,  but thus far we have thought of it primarily in terms  of its contribution  to the education of illiterate adults in the Third  World.  If,  however, we take a closer look,  we may discover that his  methodology as well as his educational philosophy are as important  for us as for the  dispossessed  in  Latin America.  Their  struggle  to  become  free  Subjects  and  to  participate  in  the  transformation  of  their  society  is  similar,  in  many ways,  to  the  struggle  not  only of  blacks and Mexican­Americans but also of middle­class young peo­ ple in this country. And the sharpness and intensity of that struggle  in the developing world may well provide us with new insight,  new  models,  and  a  new  hope  as  we  face  our  own  situation.  For  this  reason,  I consider the publication of Pedagogy of the Oppressed in  an English edition to be something of an event.  3 0 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  Paulo Freire's thought represents the, response of a creative mind and sensitive conscience to the extraordinary misery and suffering of the oppressed around him. Born in 1921 in Recife, the center of one of the most extreme situations of poverty and underdevelopment in the Third World, he was soon forced to experience that reality directly. As the economic crisis in 1929 in the United States began to affect Brazil, the precarious stability of Freires middle-class fam- ily gave way and he found himself sharing the plight of the "wretched of the earth." This had a profound influence on his life as he came to know the gnawing pangs of hunger and fell behind in school because of the listlessness it produced; it also led him to make a vow, at age eleven, to dedicate his life to the struggle against hunger, so that other children would not have to know the agony he was then experiencing. His early sharing of the life of the poor also led him to the discov- ery of what he describes as the "culture of silence" of the dispos- sessed. He came to realize that their ignorance and lethargy were the direct product of the whole situation of economic, social, and political domination—and of the paternalism—of which they were victims. Rather than being encouraged and equipped to know and respond to the concrete realities of their world, they were kept "submerged" in a situation in which such critical awareness and response were practically impossible. And it became clear to him that the whole educational system was one of the major instruments for the maintenance of this culture of silence. Confronted by this problem in a very existential way, Freire turned his attention to the field of education and began to work on it. Over the years, he has engaged in a process of study and reflec- tion that has produced something quite new and creative in educa- tional philosophy. From a situation of direct engagement in the struggle to liberate men and women for the creation of a new world, he has reached out to the thought and experience of those in many different situations and of diverse philosophical positions: in his words, to "Sartre and Mounier, Erich Fromm and Louis Althusser, Ortega y Gasset and Mao, Martin Luther King and Che Guevara, PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  ' 3 1  Unamuno and Marcuse." He has made use of the insights of these  men  to develop a perspective  on  education  which  is authentically  his own and which seeks to respond to the concrete realities of Latin  America.  His thought on the philosophy of education was first expressed in  1959 in his doctoral dissertation at the University of Recife, and later  in his wbrk as Professor of the History and Philosophy of Education  in the same university,  as well as in his early experiments with the  teaching of illiterates in that same city. The methodology he devel­ oped was widely used by Catholics and others in literacy campaigns  throughout  the  North  East  of  Brazil,  and  was considered  such a  threat to the old order that Freire was jailed immediately after the  military coup in 1964.  Released seventy days later and encouraged  to  leave  the  country,  Freire  went  to  Chile,  where  he  spent five  years working with UNESCO and the Chilean Institute for Agrarian  Reform in programs of adult education.  He then acted as a consult­ ant at Harvard University's School of Education, and worked in close  association  with  a number  of groups  engaged  in  new  educational  experiments  in  rural  and  urban  areas.  He  is  presently  serving as  Special Consultant to the Office  of Education of the World Council  of Churches in Geneva.  Freire has written many articles in Portuguese and Spanish, and  his first book, Educagdo como Prdtica da Liberdade,  was published  in Brazil in  1967.  His latest and most complete work, Pedagogy of the Oppressed,  is  the first of his writings  to be  published  in  this  country.  In this brief introduction,  there is no point in attempting to sum  up,  in a few paragraphs,  what the author develops  in a number of  pages.  That would be an offense  to the  richness,  depth,  and com­ plexity of his thought.  But perhaps a word of witness has its place  here—a  personal  witness  as  to  why  I  find  a  dialogue  with  the  thought of Paulo Freire an exciting adventure.  Fed up as I am with  the  abstractness  and sterility  of so  much  intellectual  work in aca­ demic circles today, I am excited by a process of reflection which is  set  in  a thoroughly  historical  context,  which  is  carried  on  in  the  3 2 ' P A U L O  FREIRE  midst of a struggle to create a new social order and thus represents  a  new  unity  of  theory  and praxis. And  I  am  encouraged  when a  man of the  stature  of Paulo  Freire  incarnates  a rediscovery  of the  humanizing vocation of the intellectual, and demonstrates the power  of thought  to  negate  accepted  limits  and  open  the  way  to  a new  future.  Freire is able to do this because he operates on one basic assump­ tion: that mans ontological vocation (as he calls it) is to be a Subject  who  acts  upon  and  transforms  his  world,  and  in  so  doing  moves  toward  ever  new  possibilities  of fuller  and  richer  life  individually  and collectively.  This world to which  he  relates  is not a static and  closed  order,  a given reality which  man must accept  and to which  he must adjust; rather,  it is a problem to be worked on and solved.  It  is  the  material  used  by  man  to  create  history,  a task  which  he  performs  as he overcomes  that which  is dehumanizing  at any par­ ticular time and place and dares to create the qualitatively new. For  Freire,  the resources for that task at the present time are provided  by  the  advanced  technology  of our Western  world,  but  the  social  vision which impels us to negate the present order and demonstrate  that history has not ended comes primarily from the suffering and  struggle of the people of the Third World.  Coupled with this is Freires conviction (now supported by a wide  background of experience) that every human being,  no matter how  "ignorant" or submerged  in the "culture of silence" he or she may  be, is capable of looking critically at the world in a dialogical encoun­ ter with others.  Provided with the proper tools for such encounter,  the  individual can gradually perceive personal and social  reality as  well as the contradictions  in it, become conscious of his or her own  perception of that reality, and deal critically with it. In this process,  the  old,  paternalistic  teacher­student  relationship  is  overcome.  A  peasant  can  facilitate  this  process  for a neighbor  more  effectively  than  a  "teacher"  brought  in  from  outside.  "People  educate  each  other through the mediation of the world."  As this happens,  the word takes on new power. It is no longer an  abstraction  or magic but a means by which people  discover them­ PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED ' 3 3 selves and their potential as they give names to things around them.  As  Freire  puts  it,  each  individual  wins  back  the  right  to say his or her own wordy to name the world. When  an illiterate  peasant  participates  in this sort  of educational  experience,  he  or  she  comes  to a new  awareness  of self,  has  a new  sense  of  dignity,  and  is  stirred  by  a  new  hope.  Time  and  again,  peasants  have  expressed  these  discoveries  in  striking  ways  after  a  few hours of class: "I now realize I am a person, an educated person."  "We  were  blind,  now  our  eyes  have  been  opened."  "Before  this,  words  meant  nothing  to me; now they  speak  to  me  and  I can  make  them  speak."  "Now  we  will  no  longer  be  a  dead  weight  on  the  cooperative  farm." When  this happens  in the  process  of learning to  read,  men and women discover that they are creators of culture, and  that all their work can be creative.  "I work,  and working I transform  the  world." And  as  those  who  have  been  completely  marginalized  are  so  radically  transformed,  they  are  no longer willing  to be  mere  objects,  responding  to  changes  occurring  around  them;  they  are  more likely to decide to take upon themselves the struggle to change  the  structures  of  society,  which  until  now  have  served  to  oppress  them.  For this  reason,  a distinguished  Brazilian  student  of national  development  recently  affirmed  that  this  type  of  educational  work  among the people represents a new factor in social change and devel­ opment,  "a  new  instrument  of  conduct  for  the  Third  World,  by  which  it can overcome  traditional  structures  and enter  the  modern  world."  At first sight,  Paulo Freire's method of teaching illiterates in Latin  America seems to belong to a different  world from that in which  we  find ourselves in this country.  Certainly,  it would be absurd to claim  that  it  should  be  copied  here.  But  there  are  certain  parallels  in  the  two  situations  that  should  not  be  overlooked.  Our  advanced  technological  society  is  rapidly  making  objects  of  most  of  us  and  subtly programming us into conformity  to the logic of its system. To  the  degree  that  this  happens,  we  are  also  becoming  submerged  in  a new "culture  of silence."  The  paradox is that the  same  technology  that does  this  to us also  3 4 ' P A U L O FREIRE creates a new sensitivity to what is happening. Especially among young people, the new media together with the erosion of old con- cepts of authority open the way to acute awareness of this new bond- age. The young perceive that their right to say their own word has been stolen from them, and that few things are more important than the struggle to win it back. And they also realize that the educational system today—from kindergarten to university—is their enemy. There is no such thing as a neutral educational process. Education either functions as an instrument that is used to facilitate the integra- tion of the younger generation into the logic of the present system and bring about conformity to it, or it becomes "the practice of freedom," the means by which men and women deal critically and creatively with reality and discover how to participate in the transfor- mation of their world. The development of an educational methodol- ogy that facilitates this process will inevitably lead to tension and conflict within our society. But it could also contribute to the forma- tion of a new man and mark the beginning of a new era in Western history For those who are committed to that task and are searching for concepts and tools for experimentation, Paulo Freires thought will make a significant contribution in the years ahead. RICHARD SHAULL Preface These  pages,  which  introduce Pedagogy of the Oppressed,  result  from my observations during six years of political exile,  observations  which  have  enriched  those  previously  afforded  by  my  educational  activities  in  Brazil.  I  have  encountered,  both  in  training  courses  which  analyze  the  role  of conscientizagao1  and in  actual  experimentation  with  a truly  liberating  education,  the  "fear  of  freedom"  discussed  in  the  first  chapter  of this  book.  Not  infrequently,  training  course  participants  call attention to "the danger of conscientizagao" in a way that reveals  their  own fear of freedom.  Critical  consciousness,  they  say,  is anar­ chic.  Others  add  that  critical  consciousness  may  lead  to  disorder.  Some,  however,  confess: Why deny it? I was afraid of freedom.  I am  no longer  afraid!  In one  of these  discussions,  the  group was debating whether  the  conscientizagao of men and women to a specific situation of injustice  might  not  lead  them  to  "destructive  fanaticism" or  to  a "sensation  of  total  collapse  of  their  world."  In  the  midst  of  the  argument,  a  person  who  previously  had  been  a  factory  worker  for  many  years  spoke out: "Perhaps I am the only one here of working­class origin.  I cani  say that I've understood  everything you've  said just  now,  but  I  can  say  one  thing—when  I  began  this  course  I  was naive,  and  when  I found out how naive I was,  I started to get critical.  But this  discovery  hasn't  made  me  a  fanatic,  and  I  don't  feel  any  collapse  either."  1.  The  term consctentizagdo  refers  to learning  to perceive  social,  political  and  economic  contradictions,  and  to  take  action  against  the  oppressive  elements  of  reality.  See  chapter 3.—Translator s note.  3 6 ­ P A U L O  F R E I R E  Doubt regarding the possible effects of conscientizagdo implies a premise which the doubter does not always make explicit: It is better for the victims of injustice not to recognize themselves as such. In fact, however, conscientizagdo does not lead people to "destructive fanaticism." On the contrary, by making it possible for people to enter the historical process as responsible Subjects,2 conscientizagdo enrolls them in the search for self-affirmation and thus avoids fa- naticism, The awakening of critical consciousness leads the way to the expression of social discontents precisely because these discon- tents are real components of an oppressive situation.3 Fear of freedom, of which its possessor is not necessarily aware, makes him see ghosts. Such an individual is actually taking refuge in an attempt to achieve security, which he or she prefers to the risks of liberty. As Hegel testifies: It is solely by risking life that freedom is obtained; . . . the individual who has not staked his or her life may, no doubt, be recognized as a Person; but he or she has not attained the truth of this recognition as an independent self-consciousness.4 Men and women rarely admit their fear of freedom openly, however, tending rather to camouflage it—sometimes unconsciously—by pre- senting themselves as defenders of freedom. They give their doubts and misgivings an air of profound sobriety, as befitting custodians of freedom. But they confuse freedom with the maintenance of the status quo; so that if conscientizagdo threatens to place that status quo in question, it thereby seems to constitute a threat to freedom itself. 2.  The  term Subjects  denotes  those  who  know  and  act,  in  contrast  to objects, which  are  known  and acted  upon.—Translator's  note.  3.  Francisco  Weffort,  in the  preface  to Paulo  Freire, Educagdo como Prdtica da Liberdade  (Rio de Janeiro,  1967).  4.  Georg  Hegel, The Phenomenology of Mind  (New York,  1967),  p. 233.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ' 3 7  Thought  and  study  alone  did  not  produce Pedagogy of the Op- pressed;  it  is  rooted  in  concrete  situations  and  describes  the  reac­ tions  of  laborers  (peasant  or  urban)  and  of  middle­class  persons  whom  I  have  observed  directly  or  indirectly  during  the  course  of  my educative work.  Continued  observation will afford  me an oppor­ tunity  to  modify  or  to  corroborate  in  later  studies  the  points  pro­ posed  in  this  introductory  work.  This volume  will  probably  arouse  negative  reactions  in a number  of  readers.  Some  will  regard  my  position  vis­a­vis  the  problem  of  human  liberation  as purely  idealistic,  or may even  consider  discus­ sion of ontological  vocation,  love,  dialogue,  hope,  humility,  and sym­ pathy  as  so  much  reactionary  "blah." Others  will  not  (or  will  not  wish to) accept my denunciation  of a state of oppression that gratifies  the  oppressors.  Accordingly,  this  admittedly  tentative  work  is  for  radicals.  I am certain that Christians and Marxists, though they may  disagree  with  me  in  part  or  in  whole,  will  continue  reading  to  the  end.  But  the  reader  who  dogmatically  assumes  closed,  "irrational"  positions  will  reject  the  dialogue  I hope  this book will  open.  Sectarianism,  fed  by  fanaticism,  is  always  castrating.  Radicaliza­ tion,  nourished  by  a critical  spirit,  is  always  creative.  Sectarianism  mythicizes  and  thereby  alienates;  radicalization  criticizes  and  thereby  liberates.  Radicalization  involves  increased  commitment  to  the  position  one  has  chosen,  and  thus  ever  greater  engagement  in  the effort to transform concrete, objective reality. Conversely,  sectar­ ianism,  because  it  is  mythicizing  and  irrational,  turns  reality  into a  false  (and therefore  unchangeable)  "reality."  Sectarianism  in any quarter  is an obstacle  to the emancipation  of  mankind.  The  rightist  version  thereof  does  not  always,  unfortu­ nately,  call forth  its natural counterpart: radicalization  of the revolu­ tionary.  Not  infrequently,  revolutionaries  themselves  become  reactionary by falling into sectarianism  in the process of responding  to  the  sectarianism  of  the  Right.  This  possibility,  however,  should  not lead  the  radical  to become  a docile  pawn of the elites.  Engaged  in  the  process  of liberation,  he  or she  cannot  remain  passive  in  the  face  of the  oppressors  violence.  38'PAULO FREIRE On the other hand, the radical is never a subjectivist. For this individual the subjective aspect exists only in relation to the objec- tive aspect (the concrete reality, which is the object of analysis). Subjectivity and objectivity thus join in a dialectical unity producing knowledge in solidarity with action, and vice versa. For his or her part, the sectarian of whatever persuasion, blinded by irrationality, does not (or cannot) perceive the dynamic of reali- ty—or else misinterprets it. Should this person think dialectically, it is with a "domesticated dialectic." The rightist sectarian (whom I have previously termed a born sectarian5) wants to slow down the historical process, to "domesticate" time and thus to domesticate men and women. The leftist-turned-sectarian goes totally astray when he or she attempts to interpret reality and history dialectically, and falls into essentially fatalistic positions. The rightist sectarian differs from his or her leftist counterpart in that the former attempts to domesticate the present so that (he or she hopes) the future will reproduce this domesticated present, while the latter considers the future pre-established—a kind of in- evitable fate, fortune, or destiny. For the rightist sectarian, "today," linked to the past, is something given and immutable; for the leftist sectarian, "tomorrow" is decreed beforehand, is inexorably preor- dained. This rightist and this leftist are both reactionary because, starting from their respectively false views of history, both develop forms of action that negate freedom. The fact that one person imag- ines a "well-behaved" present and the other a predetermined future does not mean that they therefore fold their arms and become spec- tators (the former expecting that the present will continue, the latter waiting for the already "known" future to come to pass). On the contrary, closing themselves into "circles of certainty" from which they cannot escape, these individuals "make" their own truth. It is not the truth of men and women who struggle to build the future, running the risks involved in this very construction. Nor is it the truth of men and women who fight side by side and learn together 5. In Educagdo como Prdtica da Liberdade. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ­ 3 9  how  to  build  this  future—which  is  not  something  given  to  be  re­ ceived  by  people,  but  is  rather  something  to  be  created  by  them.  Both  types  of  sectarian,  treating  history  in  an  equally  proprietary  fashion,  end  up without  the  people—which  is another way of being  against  them.  Whereas the rightist sectarian, closing himself in "his" truth,  does  no more than fulfill  a natural role,  the leftist who becomes  sectarian  and  rigid  negates  his  or her  very  nature.  Each,  however,  as  he  re­ volves about "his" truth,  feels  threatened  if that truth is questioned.  Thus,  each  considers  anything  that  is  not  "his" truth  a lie.  As  the  journalist  Marcio  Moreira  Alves  once  told  me,  "They  both  suffer  from  an absence  of doubt."  *  The  radical,  committed  to  human  liberation,  does  not  become  the  prisoner  of  a  "circle  of  certainty'  within  which  reality  is  also  imprisoned.  On  the  contrary,  the  more  radical  the  person  is,  the  more  fully  he  or  she  enters  into  reality  so  that,  knowing  it  better,  he  or  she  can  better  transform  it.  This  individual  is  not  afraid  to  confront,  to  listen,  to  see  the  world  unveiled.  This  person  is  not  afraid to meet the people or to enter into dialogue with them.6 This  person does not consider himself or herself the proprietor of history  or of all people,  or the liberator of the oppressed; but he or she does  commit  himself or herself,  within  history,  to fight at their  side.  The  pedagogy  of  the  oppressed,  the  introductory  outlines  of  which  are presented  in  the  following  pages,  is a task for radicals; it  cannot  be  carried  out  by  sectarians.  I will be satisfied  if among the readers of this work there are those  sufficiently  critical  to  correct  mistakes  and  misunderstandings,  to  deepen affirmations  and to point out aspects I have not perceived.  It  is possible that some may question  my right to discuss  revolutionary  cultural  action,  a  subject  of  which  I  have  no  concrete  experience.  The  fact  that  I  have  not  personally  participated  in  revolutionary  action,  however,  does  not  negate  the  possibility  of my  reflecting  on  6.  "As long as theoretic knowledge remains the privilege of a handful of 'academi­ cians* in the Party, the latter will face the danger of going astray." Rosa Luxembourg,  Reform or Revolution,  cited  in  C.  Wright  Mills, The Marxists  (New  York,  1963).  40-PAULO FREIRE this theme. Furthermore, in my experience as an educator with the people, using a dialogical and problem-posing education, I have accumulated a comparative wealth of material that challenged me to run the risk of making the affirmations contained in this work. From these pages I hope at least the following will endure: my trust in the people, and my faith in men and women, and in the creation of a world in which it will be easier to love. Here I would like to express my gratitude to Elza, my wife and "first reader," for the understanding and encouragement she has shown my work, which belongs to her as well I would also like to extend my thanks to a group of friends for their comments on my manuscript. At the risk of omitting some names, I must mention Joao da Veiga Coutinho, Richard Shaull, Jim Lamb, Myra and Jove- lino Ramos, Paulo de Tarso, Almino Affonso, Plinio Sampaio, Ernani Maria Fiori, Marcela Gajardo, Jose Luis Fiori, and Joao Zacarioti. The responsibility for the affirmations made herein is, of course, mine alone. PAULO FREIRE PEDAGOGY of the OPPRESSED CHAPTER  1  W l hile the problem of humanization has always, from an axiological point of view, been humankind's central problem, it now takes on the character of an inescapable concern. Concern for humanization leads at once to the recognition of dehumanization, not only as an ontological possibility but as an historical reality And as an individual perceives the extent of dehu- manization, he or shertiayask if humanization is a viable possibility. Within history^ in concrete, objective contexts, both humanization and dehumanization are possibilities for a person as an uncompleted being conscious of their incompletion. But while both humanization and dehumanization are real alter- natives, only the first is the people's vocation. This vocation is con- stantly negated, yet it is affirmed by that very negation. It is 1.  The  current  movements  of  rebellion,  especially  those  of  youth,  while  they  necessarily  reflect  the  peculiarities  of  their  respective  settings,  manifest  in  their  essence this preoccupation with people as beings in the world and with the world—  preoccupation with what and how they are "being." As they place consumer civiliza­ tion  in judgment,  denounce  bureaucracies  of all types,  demand  the  transformation  of the universities (changing the rigid nature of the teacher­student relationship and  placing that relationship within the context of reality), propose the transformation of  reality  itself so that  universities  can be  renewed,  attack old orders and  established  institutions  in  the  attempt  to affirm  human  beings  as the  Subjects  of decision,  all  these  movements  reflect  the  style  of our  age,  which  is  more  anthropological  than  anthropocentric.  44-PAULO FREIRE thwarted  by  injustice,  exploitation,  oppression,  and  the  violence  of  the  oppressors;  it  is  affirmed  by  the  yearning  of the  oppressed  for  freedom  and justice,  and  by  their  struggle  to recover their  lost  hu­ manity.  Dehumanization,  which  marks  not  only  those  whose  humanity  has been  stolen,  but also (though  in a different  way) those who have  stolen  it,  is  a distortion  of  the  vocation  of  becoming  more  fully  human. This distortion occurs within history; but it is not an histori­ cal  vocation.  Indeed,  to  admit  of  dehumanization  as  an  historical  vocation would lead either to cynicism or total despair. The  struggle  for humanization,  for the  emancipation  of labor,  for the  overcoming  of alienation, for the affirmation  of men and women as persons would  be meaningless.  This struggle  is possible only because  dehumaniza­ tion,  although  a concrete  historical  fact,  is not  a given  destiny  but  the  result of an unjust order that engenders  violence  in the oppres­ sors,  which  in  turn  dehumanizes  the  oppressed.  Because  it  is  a distortion  of  being  more  fully  human,  sooner  or  later being less human leads the oppressed to struggle against  those  who  made  them  so.  In order for this  struggle  to have meaning,  the  oppressed  must  not,  in  seeking  to  regain  their  humanity  (which  is  a way to create  it), become  in turn oppressors of the oppressors,  but  rather  restorers  of the  humanity  of both.  This,  then,  is  the  great  humanistic  and  historical  task  of the  op­ pressed:  to  liberate  themselves  and  their  oppressors  as  well.  The  oppressors,  who oppress,  exploit,  and rape by virtue  of their power,  cannot  find  in  this  power  the  strength  to  liberate  either  the  op­ pressed  or themselves.  Only  power that  springs  from  the  weakness  of the oppressed will be sufficiently  strong to free both. Any attempt  to "soften" the  power of the  oppressor in deference  to the  weakness  of  the  oppressed  almost  always  manifests  itself  in  the  form  of  false  generosity;  indeed,  the  attempt  never goes  beyond  this.  In order  to  have  the  continued  opportunity  to  express  their  "generosity,"  the  oppressors  must perpetuate  injustice as well.  An unjust social order  is  the  permanent  fount  of  this  "generosity," which  is  nourished  by  death,  despair,  and poverty.  That is why the dispensers  of false gen­ erosity  become  desperate  at  the  slightest  threat  to  its  source.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  • 45  True generosity consists precisely in fighting to destroy the causes  which  nourish  false  charity.  False charity constrains  the  fearful  and  subdued,  the "rejects of life," to extend their trembling hands.  True  generosity  lies  in  striving  so that  these  hands—whether  of individ­ uals or entire peoples—need  be  extended  less and less  in  supplica­ tion,  so that more and more they become  human hands which work  and,  working,  transform  the world.  This lesson and this apprenticeship must come,  however, from the  oppressed  themselves  and from those  who  are  truly  solidary  with  them.  As  individuals  or as peoples,  by  fighting  for  the  restoration  of  their  humanity  they  will  be  attempting  the  restoration  of  true  generosity.  Who  are better  prepared  than  the  oppressed  to  under­ stand the  terrible  significance  of an oppressive  society? Who  suffer  the eflFects of oppression  more than the oppressed? Who can  better  understand the necessity of liberation? They will not gain this libera­ tion  by chance  but  through  the  praxis of their quest  for  it,  through  their  recognition  of the  necessity  to fight for  it.  And  this  fight,  be­ cause of the purpose  given  it by the  oppressed,  will  actually  consti­ tute  an act of love opposing  the  lovelessness  which  lies  at the  heart  of the  oppressors  violence,  lovelessness  even  when  clothed  in  false  generosity.  But  almost  always,  during  the  initial  stage  of  the  struggle,  the  oppressed,  instead of striving for liberation,  tend themselves  to be­ come  oppressors,  or  "sub­oppressors." The  very  structure  of  their  thought has been  conditioned by the contradictions  of the concrete,  existential  situation by which  they were  shaped.  Their  ideal  is to be  men;  but  for  them,  to  be  men  is  to  be  oppressors.  This  is  their  model of humanity.  This phenomenon  derives from the fact that the  oppressed,  at a certain moment of their existential experience,  adopt  an  attitude  of  "adhesion"  to  the  oppressor.  Under  these  circum­ stances they cannot "consider" him sufficiently  clearly to objectivize  him—to discover him "outside" themselves.  This does not necessar­ ily mean that the oppressed are unaware that they are downtrodden.  But  their  perception  of  themselves  as  oppressed  is  impaired  by  their  submersion  in  the  reality  of  oppression.  At  this  level,  their  perception  of themselves  as opposites  of the oppressor  does  not yet  4 6 ­ P A U L O  F R E I R E  signify engagement in a struggle to overcome the contradiction;2 the one pole aspires not to liberation, but to identification with its oppo- site pole. In this situation the oppressed do not see the "new man" as the person to be born from the resolution of this contradiction, as op- pression gives way to liberation. For them, the new man or woman themselves become oppressors. Their vision of the new man or woman is individualistic; because of their identification with the oppressor, they have no consciousness of themselves as persons or as members of an oppressed class. It is not to become free that they want agrarian reform, but in order to acquire land and thus become landowners—or, more precisely, bosses over other workers. It is a rare peasant who, once "promoted" to overseer, does not become more of a tyrant towards his former comrades than the owner him- self. This is because the context of the peasant's situation, that is, oppression, remains unchanged. In this example, the overseer, in order to make sure of his job, must be as tough as the owner—and more so. Thus is illustrated our previous assertion that during the initial stage of their struggle the oppressed find in the oppressor their model of "manhood." Even revolution, which transforms a concrete situation of oppres- sion by establishing the process of liberation, must confront this phenomenon. Many of the oppressed who directly or indirectly par- ticipate in revolution intend—conditioned by the myths of the old order—to make it their private revolution. The shadow of their for- mer oppressor is still cast over them. The "fear of freedom" which afflicts the oppressed,3 a fear which may equally well lead them to desire the role of oppressor or bind them to the role of oppressed, should be examined. One of the basic elements of the relationship between oppressor and oppressed is 2.  As used throughout this book,  the term "contradiction" denotes the dialectical  conflict  between  opposing  social  forces.—Translator s note.  3.  This  fear of freedom  is also to be found  in the oppressors,  though,  obviously,  in  a different  form.  The  oppressed  are afraid  to embrace  freedom;  the  oppressors  are afraid  of losing  the  "freedom" to oppress.  PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED -47 prescription.  Every  prescription  represents  the  imposition  of  one  individual's  choice  upon  another,  transforming  the consciousness  of  the  person  prescribed  to  into  one  that  conforms  with  the  pre­ servers  consciousness.  Thus,  the  behavior  of  the  oppressed  is  a  prescribed  behavior,  following  as  it  does  the  guidelines  of  the  op­ pressor.  The  oppressed,  having  internalized  the  image  of  the  oppressor  and adopted  his guidelines,  are fearful  of freedom.  Freedom  would  require  them  to eject  this  image  and replace  it with  autonomy  and  responsibility.  Freedom  is acquired by conquest,  not by gift.  It must  be  pursued  constantly  and  responsibly.  Freedom  is  not  an  ideal  located  outside  of man; nor is  it an idea which  becomes  myth.  It is  rather  the  indispensable  condition  for  the  quest  for  human  com­ pletion.  To surmount  the  situation  of oppression,  people  must first criti­ cally  recognize  its causes,  so that  through  transforming  action  they  can create a new situation,  one which  makes possible  the pursuit of  a  fuller  humanity.  But  the  struggle  to  be  more  fully  human  has  already  begun  in  the  authentic  struggle  to  transform  the  situation.  Although  the  situation  of  oppression  is  a dehumanized  and  dehu­ manizing totality affecting both the oppressors and those whom they  oppress,  it is the  latter who must,  from  their stifled  humanity,  wage  for  both  the  struggle  for  a fuller  humanity;  the  oppressor,  who  is  himself dehumanized  because  he  dehumanizes  others,  is unable  to  lead  this  struggle.  However,  the  oppressed,  who  have  adapted  to  the  structure  of  domination  in which  they are immersed,  and have become  resigned  to it,  are  inhibited  from  waging  the  struggle  for freedom  so long as  they feel  incapable  of running  the  risks it requires.  Moreover,  their  struggle for freedom  threatens not only the oppressor,  but also their  own oppressed  comrades who are fearful  of still  greater  repression.  When  they discover within  themselves  the yearning to be free,  they  perceive  that  this  yearning  can  be  transformed  into  reality  only  when  the  same  yearning  is  aroused  in  their  comrades.  But  while  dominated  by  the  fear  of freedom  they  refuse  to  appeal  to  others,  48-PAULO FREIRE or to  listen  to  the  appeals  of others,  or even  to the  appeals  of their  own  conscience.  They  prefer  gregariousness  to authentic  comrade­ ship; they prefer the security of conformity with their state of unfree­ dom  to the creative  communion produced by freedom  and even the  very  pursuit  of  freedom.  The oppressed  suffer from the duality which has established  itself  in  their  innermost  being.  They  discover  that without  freedom  they  cannot  exist  authentically.  Yet,  although  they  desire  authentic  exis­ tence,  they  fear  it.  They  are  at  one  and  the  same  time  themselves  and the  oppressor whose  consciousness  they have internalized  The  conflict  lies in the choice between being wholly themselves or being  divided;  between  ejecting  the  oppressor  within  or  not  ejecting  them;  between  human  solidarity  or  alienation;  between  following  prescriptions  or having choices; between  being spectators or actors;  between  acting or having the  illusion  of acting through the action of  the  oppressors;  between  speaking  out  or  being  silent,  castrated  in  their  power  to  create  and  re­create,  in  their  power  to  transform  the  world.  This  is  the  tragic  dilemma  of the  oppressed  which  their  education  must  take  into  account.  This book will present some aspects of what the writer has termed  the  pedagogy  of  the  oppressed,  a pedagogy  which  must  be  forged  with,  not for,  the oppressed  (whether individuals or peoples)  in the  incessant  struggle  to  regain  their  humanity.  This  pedagogy  makes  oppression  and its causes objects of reflection  by the oppressed,  and  from  that  reflection  will  come  their  necessary  engagement  in  the  struggle  for their  liberation.  And in the  struggle  this pedagogy  will  be  made  and  remade.  The  central  problem  is  this:  How  can  the  oppressed,  as divided,  unauthentic  beings,  participate  in developing  the pedagogy  of their  liberation?  Only  as  they  discover  themselves  to  be  "hosts" of  the  oppressor  can  they  contribute  to  the  midwifery  of  their  liberating  pedagogy.  As long  as they  live  in the  duality  in which to be  is to be like,  and to be like  is to be like the oppressor,  this  contribution  is  impossible.  The  pedagogy  of  the  oppressed  is  an  instrument  for  their critical discovery that both they and their oppressors are mani­ festations  of dehumanization.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ­ 4 9  Liberation  is  thus  a  childbirth,  and  a  painful  one.  The  man  or  woman who emerges  is a new person,  viable  only as the  oppressor­ oppressed  contradiction  is  superseded  by  the  humanization  of  all  people.  Or to  put  it  another  way,  the  solution  of this  contradiction  is born  in the  labor which  brings  into the world  this  new being:  no  longer  oppressor  nor  longer  oppressed,  but  human  in  the  process  of achieving  freedom.  This  solution  cannot  be  achieved  in  idealistic  terms.  In order  for  the  oppressed  to  be  able  to  wage  the  struggle  for  their  liberation,  they  must  perceive  the  reality  of oppression  not  as  a closed  world  from  which  there  is  no  exit,  but  as  a limiting  situation  which  they  can  transform.  This  perception  is  a  necessary  but  not  a  sufficient  condition  foi*  liberation;  it  must  become  the  motivating  force  for  liberating action.  Nor does the discovery by the oppressed that they  exist  in  dialectical  relationship  to  the  oppressor,  as his  antithesis—  that without them the oppressor could not exist4—in itself constitute  liberation.  The  oppressed  can  overcome  the  contradiction  in  which  they are caught only when  this perception  enlists them in the  strug­ gle  to free  themselves.  The  same  is  true  with  respect  to  the  individual  oppressor  as  a  person.  Discovering himself to be an oppressor may cause  consider­ able  anguish,  but  it  does  not  necessarily  lead  to  solidarity  with  the  oppressed.  Rationalizing  his  guilt  through  paternalistic  treatment  of  the  oppressed,  all  the  while  holding  them  fast  in  a  position  of  dependence,  will  not do.  Solidarity  requires  that one  enter  into  the  situation  of those with  whom  one  is solidary; it is  a radical  posture.  If  what  characterizes  the  oppressed  is  their  subordination  to  the  consciousness  of the  master,  as  Hegel  affirms,5  true  solidarity  with  the oppressed means fighting at their side to transform the objective  reality which has made them these "beings for another." The oppres­ 4.  See Hegel, op. cit.y pp. 236­237.  5.  Analyzing the dialectical relationship between the consciousness of the master  and the consciousness  of the  oppressed,  Hegel  states: "The one  is  independent,  and its essential  nature is to be for itself; the other is dependent,  and its essence  is life  or existence  for another.  The former is the  Master,  or Lord,  the  latter the  Bondsman." Ibid., p. 234.  50-PAULO FREIRE sor is solidary with the oppressed only when he stops regarding the oppressed as an abstract category and sees them as persons who have been unjustly dealt with, deprived of their voice, cheated in the sale of their labor—when he stops making pious, sentimental, and individualistic gestures and risks an act of love. True solidarity is found only in the plenitude of this act of love, in its existentiality, in its praxis. To affirm that men and women are persons and as persons should be free, and yet to do nothing tangible to make this affirmation a reality, is a farce. Since it is a concrete situation that the oppressor-oppressed con- tradiction is established, the resolution of this contradiction must be objectively verifiable. Hence, the radical requirement—both for the individual who discovers himself or herself to be an oppressor and for the oppressed—that the concrete situation which begets oppression must be transformed. To present this radical demand for the objective transformation of reality, to combat subjectivist immobility which would divert the recognition of oppression into patient waiting for oppression to dis- appear by itself, is not to dismiss the role of subjectivity in the struggle to change structures. On the contrary, one cannot conceive of objectivity without subjectivity. Neither can exist without the other, nor can they be dichotomized. The separation of objectivity from subjectivity, the denial of the latter when analyzing reality or acting upon it, is objectivism. On the other hand, the denial of objectivity in analysis or action, resulting in a subjectivism which leads to solipsistic positions, denies action itself by denying objec- tive reality. Neither objectivism nor subjectivism, nor yet psycholo- gism is propounded here, but rather subjectivity and objectivity in constant dialectical relationship. To deny the importance of subjectivity in the process of trans- forming the world and history is naive and simplistic. It is to admit the impossible: a world without people. This objectivistic position is as ingenuous as that of subjectivism, which postulates people without a world. World and human beings do not exist apart from each other, they exist in constant interaction. Marx does not espouse PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  ­ 5 1  such a dichotomy,  nor does any other critical,  realistic thinker.  What  Marx criticized and scientifically  destroyed was not subjectivity,  but  subjectivism  and psychologism.  Just as objective  social  reality  exists  not  by  chance,  but  as  the  product  of  human  action,  so  it  is  not  transformed  by  chance.  If humankind  produce  social  reality  (which  in the "inversion of the praxis" turns back upon them and conditions  them),  then  transforming  that  reality  is an  historical  task,  a task for  humanity.  Reality which  becomes oppressive  results in the  contradistinction  of  men  as  oppressors  and  oppressed.  The  latter,  whose  task  it  is  to  struggle  for  their  liberation  together  with  those  who  show  true  solidarity,  must  acquire  a critical  awareness  of  oppression  through  the  praxis  of  this  struggle.  One  of  the  gravest  obstacles  to  the  achievement  of  liberation  is  that  oppressive  reality  absorbs  those  within it and thereby acts to submerge human beings  consiousness.6  Functionally,  oppression  is  domesticating.  To no  longer  be  prey  to  its  force,  one  must  emerge  from  it  and  turn  upon  it.  This  can  be  done  only  by  means  of  the  praxis:  reflection  and  action  upon  the  world  in  order  to  transform  it.  i  Hay que hacer al opresion  real todavia mas opresiva anadiendo  a aquella la conciencia de la opresion haciendo la infamia todavia  mas infamante,  al pregonarla.7  Making  "real  oppression  more  oppressive  still  by  adding  to  it  the realization  of oppression" corresponds  to the dialectical  relation  between  the  subjective  and  the  objective.  Only  in  this  interdepen­ dence  is an authentic praxis possible,  without which  it is  impossible  6.  "Liberating action  necessarily  involves  a moment  of perception  and volition.  This  action  both  precedes  and  follows  that  moment,  to  which  it  first  acts  as  a  prologue  and  which  it  subsequently  serves  to  effect  and  continue  within  history.  The  action  of domination,  however,  does  not  necessarily  imply  this dimension; for  the  structure  of domination  is  maintained  by  its own  mechanical  and  unconscious  functionality."  From  an  unpublished  work  by  Jose  Luiz  Fiori,  who  has  kindly  granted  permission  to quote  him.  7.  Karl Marx and Friedrich Engels, La Sagrada Familia y otros Escritos  (Mexico,  1962),  p.  6.  Emphasis  added.  52-PAULO FREIRE to resolve the oppressor-oppressed contradiction. To achieve this goal, the oppressed must confront reality critically, simultaneously objectifying and acting upon that reality. A mere perception of real- ity not followed by this critical intervention will not lead to a trans- formation of objective reality—precisely because it is not a true perception. This is the case of a purely subjectivist perception by someone who forsakes objective reality and creates a false substitute. A different type of false perception occurs when a change in objec- tive reality would threaten the individual or class interests of the perceiver. In the first instance, there is no critical intervention in reality because that reality is fictitious; there is none in the second instance because intervention would contradict the class interests of the perceiver. In the latter case the tendency of the perceiver is to behave "neurotically." The fact exists; but both the fact and what may result from it may be prejudicial to the person. Thus it becomes necessary, not precisely to deny the fact, but to "see it differently." This rationalization as a defense mechanism coincides in the end with subjectivism. A fact which is not denied but whose truths are rationalized loses its objective base. It ceases to be concrete and becomes a myth created in defense of the class of the perceiver. Herein lies one of the reasons for the prohibitions and the diffi- culties (to be discussed at length in Chapter 4) designed to dissuade the people from critical intervention in reality. The oppressor knows full well that this intervention would not be to his interest. What is to his interest is for the people to continue in a state of submersion, impotent in the face of oppressive reality. Of relevance here is Lu- kacs warning to the revolutionary party: . . . il doit, pour employer les mots de Marx, expliquer aux masses leur propre action non seulement afin d'assurer la conti- nuity des experiences revolutionnaires du proletariat, mais aussi d'activer consciemment le developpement ulterieur de ces expe- riences.8 In affirming this necessity, Lukacs is unquestionably posing the 8. Georg Lukacs, Lenine (Paris, 1965), p. 62. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  ­ 5 3  problem of critical intervention.  "To explain to the masses their own  action"  is  to  clarify  and  illuminate  that  action,  both  regarding  its  relationship  to  the  objective  facts  by  which  it  was  prompted,  and  regarding its purposes.  The more the people unveil this challenging  reality  which  is  to  be  the  object  of  their  transforming  action,  the  more  critically  they  enter  that  reality.  In  this  way  they  are  "con­ sciously  activating  the  subsequent  development  of  their  experi­ ences." There  would be  no human action  if there were no objective  reality,  no  world  to  be  the  "not  I" of  the  person  and  to  challenge  them; just  as  there  would  be  no  human  action  if humankind  were  not  a "project," if he  or  she  were  not  able  to  transcend  himself  or  herself,  if one, were  not  able  to  perceive  reality  and  understand  it  in  order  to  transform  it.  In dialectical thought, world and action are intimately interdepen­ dent.  But action is human only when  it is not merely an occupation  but  also a preoccupation,  that  is,  when  it is not  dichotomized from  reflection.  Reflection,  which  is essential  to action,  is implicit  in Lu­ k£cs'  requirement  of  "explaining  to  the  masses  their  own  action,"  just  as it is implicit  in the purpose  he attributes to this explanation:  that of "consciously activating the subsequent  development  of expe­ rience."  For  us,  however,  the  requirement  is  seen  not  in  terms  of  ex­ plaining  to,  but  rather  dialoguing  with  the  people  about  their  ac­ tions.  In any event,  no reality transforms  itself,9 and the duty which  Lukacs  ascribes  to  the  revolutionary  party  of  "explaining  to  the  masses  their own action" coincides with  our affirmation  of the  need  for  the  critical  intervention  of  the  people  in  reality  through  the  praxis.  The  pedagogy  of  the  oppressed,  which  is  the  pedagogy  of  people  engaged  in  the  fight  for  their  own  liberation,  has  its  roots  here.  And  those  who  recognize,  or begin  to  recognize,  themselves  9.  "The  materialist  doctrine  that  men  are  products  of  circumstances  and  up­ bringing,  and  that,  therefore,  changed  men  are  products  of  other  circumstances  and changed  upbringing,  forgets  that it is men  that change circumstances  and that  the  educator  himself  needs  educating." Karl  Marx and  Friedrich  Engels, Selected Works  (New  York,  1968),  p.  28.  5 4 ­ P A U L O  F R E I R E  as oppressed must be among the developers of this pedagogy. No pedagogy which is truly liberating can remain distant from the op- pressed by treating them as unfortunates and by presenting for their emulation models from among the oppressors. The oppressed must be their own example in the struggle for their redemption. The pedagogy of the oppressed, animated by authentic, humanist (not humanitarian) generosity, presents itself as a pedagogy of humankind. Pedagogy which begins with the egoistic interests of the oppressors (an egoism cloaked in the false generosity of paternal- ism) and makes of the oppressed the objects of its humanitarianism, itself maintains and embodies oppression. It is an instrument of dehumanization. This is why, as we affirmed earlier, the pedagogy of the oppressed cannot be developed or practiced by the oppres- sors. It would be a contradiction in terms if the oppressors not only defended but actually implemented a liberating education. But if the implementation of a liberating education requires politi- cal power and the oppressed have none, how then is it possible to carry out the pedagogy of the oppressed prior to the revolution? This is a question of the greatest importance, the reply to which is at least tentatively outlined in Chapter 4. One aspect of the reply is to be found in the distinction between systematic education, which can only be changed by political power, and educational proj- ects, which should be carried out with the oppressed in the process of organizing them. The pedagogy of the oppressed, as a humanist and libertarian pedagogy, has two distinct stages. In the first, the oppressed unveil the world of oppression and through the praxis commit themselves to its transformation. In the second stage, in which the reality of oppression has already been transformed, this pedagogy ceases to belong to the oppressed and becomes a pedagogy of all people in the process of permanent liberation. In both stages, it is always through action in depth that the culture of domination is culturally confronted.10 In the first stage this confrontation occurs through the 10.  This  appears  to be  the  fundamental  aspect  of  Mao's Cultural  Revolution.  PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED -55 change  in  the  way the  oppressed  perceive  the  world of oppression;  in  the  second  stage,  through  the  expulsion  of  the  myths  created  and  developed  in  the  old  order,  which  like  specters  haunt  the  new  structure  emerging  from  the  revolutionary  transformation.  The  pedagogy  of  the  first  stage  must  deal  with  the  problem  of  the  oppressed  consciousness  and  the  oppressor  consciousness,  the  problem  of men  and women who oppress and men and women  who  suffer  oppression.  It  must  take  into  account  their  behavior,  their  view  of  the  world,  and  their  ethics.  A  particular  problem  is  the  duality  of  the  oppressed:  they  are  contradictory,  divided  beings,  shaped  by  and  existing  in  a  concrete  situation  of  oppression  and  violence.  ^  Any situation  in which "A" objectively  exploits "B" or hinders  his  and  her  pursuit  of self­affirmation  as a responsible  person  is  one  of  oppression.  Such a situation in itself constitutes violence,  even when  sweetened by false generosity,  because it interferes with the individ­ ual's  ontological  and  historical  vocation  to  be  more  fully  human.  With the establishment  of a relationship of oppression,  violence has  already  begun.  Never  in history  has violence  been  initiated  by  the  oppressed.  How could  they be  the  initiators,  if they themselves  are  the result of violence? How could they be the sponsors of something  whose  objective  inauguration  called  forth  their  existence  as  op­ pressed?  There  would  be  no  oppressed  had  there  been  no  prior  situation  of violence  to establish  their  subjugation.  Violence  is  initiated  by  those  who  oppress,  who  exploit,  who fail  to  recognize  others  as  persons—not  by  those  who  are  oppressed,  exploited,  and unrecognized.  It is not the unloved who initiate disaf­ fection,  but  those  who  cannot  love  because  they  love  only  them­ selves.  It  is  not  the  helpless,  subject  to  terror,  who  initiate  terror,  but  the  violent,  who with  their power create  the concrete  situation  which begets the "rejects of life." It is not the tyrannized who initiate  despotism,  but the tyrants. It is not the despised who initiate hatred,  but  those  who  despise.  It  is  not  those  whose  humanity  is  denied  them  who  negate  humankind,  but those who denied  that  humanity  (thus  negating  their  own  as  well).  Force  is  used  not  by  those  who  5 6 ' P A U L O FREIRE have become weak under the preponderance of the strong, but by the strong who have emasculated them. For the oppressors, however, it is always the oppressed (whom they obviously never call "the oppressed" but—depending on whether they are fellow countrymen or not—"those people" or "the blind and envious masses" or "savages" or "natives" or "subversives") who are disaffected, who are "violent," "barbaric," "wicked," or "fe- rocious" when they react to the violence of the oppressors. Yet it is—paradoxical though it may seem—precisely in the re- sponse of the oppressed to the violence of their oppressors that a gesture of love may be found. Consciously or unconsciously, the act of rebellion by the oppressed (an act which is always, or neafly always, as violent as the initial violence of the oppressors) can initiate love. Whereas the violence of the oppressors prevents the oppressed from being fully human, the response of the latter to this violence is grounded in the desire to pursue the right to be human. As the oppressors dehumanize others and violate their rights, they them- selves also become dehumanized. As the oppressed, fighting to be human, take away the oppressors power to dominate and suppress, they restore to the oppressors the humanity they had lost in the exercise of oppression. It is only the oppressed who, by freeing themselves, can free their oppressors. The latter, as an oppressive class, can free neither others nor themselves. It is therefore essential that the oppressed wage the struggle to resolve the contradiction in which they are caught; and the contradiction will be resolved by the appearance of the new man: neither oppressor nor oppressed, but man in the process of liberation. If the goal of the oppressed is to becomS fully human, they will not achieve their goal by merely reversing the terms of the contradiction, by simply changing poles. This may seem simplistic; it is not. Resolution of the oppressor- oppressed contradiction indeed implies the disappearance of the oppressors as a dominant class. However, the restraints imposed by the former oppressed on their oppressors, so that the latter cannot reassume their former position, do not constitute oppression. An act PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ­ 5 7  is oppressive only when it prevents people from being more fully human. Accordingly, these necessary restraints do not in themselves signify that yesterdays oppressed have become today's oppressors. Acts which prevent the restoration of the oppressive regime cannot be compared with those which create and maintain it, cannot be compared with those by which a few men and women deny the majority their right to be human*, However, the moment the new regime hardens into a dominating "bureaucracy"11 the humanist dimension of the struggle is lost and it is no longer possible to speak of liberation. Hence our insistence that the authentic solution of the oppressor-oppressed contradiction does not lie in a mere reversal of position, in moving from one pole to the other. Nor does it lie in the replacement of the former oppressors with new ones who continue to subjugate the op- pressed—all in the name of their liberation. But even when the contradiction is resolved authentically by a new situation established by the liberated laborers, the former op- pressors do not feel liberated. On the contrary, they genuinely con- sider themselves to be oppressed. Conditioned by the experience of oppressing others, any situation other than their former seems to them like oppression. Formerly, they could eat, dress, wear shoes, be educated, travel, and hear Beethoven; while millions did not eat, had no clothes or shoes, neither studied nor traveled, much less listened to Beethoven. Any restriction on this way of life, in the name of the rights of the community, appears to the former oppres- sors as a profound violation of their individual rights—although they had no respect for the millions who suffered and died of hunger, pain, sorrow, and despair. For the oppressors, "human beings" refers only to themselves; other people are "things." For the oppressors, there exists only one right: their right to live in peace, over against 11.  This  rigidity  should  not  be  identified  with  the  restraints  that  must  be  im­ posed on the former oppressors so they cannot restore the oppressive order. Rather,  it  refers  to  the  revolution  which  becomes  stagnant  and  turns  against  the  people,  using  the  old  repressive,  bureaucratic  State  apparatus  (which  should  have  been  drastically  suppressed,  as  Marx so often  emphasized).  58-PAULO FREIRE the right, not always even recognized, but simply conceded, of the oppressed to survival. And they make this concession only because the existence of the oppressed is necessary to their own existence. This behavior, this way of understanding the world and people (which necessarily makes the oppressors resist the installation of a new regime) is explained by their experience as a dominant class. Once a situation of violence and oppression has been established, it engenders an entire way of life and behavior for those caught up in it—oppressors and oppressed alike. Both are submerged in this situation, and both bear the marks of oppression. Analysis of existen- tial situations of oppression reveals that their inception lay in^an act of violence—initiated by those with power. This violence, as a proc- ess, is perpetuated from generation to generation of oppressors, who become its heirs and are shaped in its climate. This climate creates in the oppressor a strongly possessive consciousness— possessive of the world and of men and women. Apart from direct, concrete, material possession of the world and of people, the oppres- sor consciousness could not understand itself—could not even exist. Fromm said of this consciousness that, without such possession, "it would lose contact with the world." The oppressor consciousness tends to transform everything surrounding it into an object of its domination. The earth, property, production, the creations of peo- ple, people themselves, time—everything is reduced to the status of objects at its disposal. In their unrestrained eagerness to possess, the oppressors de- velop the conviction that it is possible for them to transform every- thing into objects of their purchasing power; hence their strictly materialistic concept of existence. Money is the measure of all things, and profit the primary goal. For the oppressors, what is worthwhile is to have more—always more—even at the cost of the oppressed having less or having nothing. For them, to be is to have and to be the class of the "haves." As beneficiaries of a situation of oppression, the oppressors cannot perceive that if having is a condition of being, it is a necessary condition for all women and men. This is why their generosity is PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  ­ 5 9  false.  Humanity  is  a  "thing,"  and  they  possess  it  as  an  exclusive  right,  as  inherited  property.  To  the  oppressor  consciousness,  the  humanization  of the "others," of the people,  appears not as the pur­ suit  of full  humanity,  but as subversion.  The  oppressors  do  not  perceive  their  monopoly  on having more as a privilege which dehumanizes  others and themselves.  They can­ not  see  that,  in  the  egoistic  pursuit  of having  as a possessing class,  they  suffocate  in  their  own  possessions  and  no  longer are;  they  merely have. For them, having more  is an inalienable  right,  a right  they acquired through their own "effort," with their "courage to take  risks." If others do not have more, it is because they are incompetent  and  lazy,  and  worst  of  all  is  their  unjustifiable  ingratitude  towards  the  "generous  gestures"  of  the  dominant  class.  Precisely  because  they are "ungrateful" and "envious," the  oppressed  are  regarded as  potential  enemies  who  must  be  watched.  It  could  not  be  otherwise.  If the  humanization  of the  oppressed  signifies  subversion,  so also does their freedom; hence  the  necessity  for  constant  control.  And  the  more  the  oppressors  control  the  op­ pressed,  the  more  they  change  them  into  apparently  inanimate  "things." This  tendency  of  the  oppressor  consciousness  to  "in­ani­ mate" everything  and  everyone  it  encounters,  in  its  eagerness  to  possess,  unquestionably  corresponds  with  a tendency  to sadism.  The  pleasure  in complete  domination  over another person (or  other animate creature) is the very essence of the sadistic drive.  Another way of formulating  the same thought is to say that the  aim  of  sadism  is  to  transform  a man  into  a thing,  something  animate into something inanimate, since by complete and abso­ lute  control  the  living  loses  one  essential  quality  of  life—  freedom.12  Sadistic love is a perverted  love—a love of death,  not of life.  One of  the characteristics of the oppressor consciousness and its necrophilic  view  of  the  world  is  thus  sadism.  As  the  oppressor  consciousness,  12.  Erich  Fromm, The Heart of Man (New  York,  1966),  p.  32.  6 0 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  in order to dominate,  tries to deter the drive to search,  the restless­ ness,  and  the  creative  power  which  characterize  life,  it  kills  life.  More and more,  the oppressors  are using science and technology as  unquestionably  powerful  instruments for their purpose: the mainte­ nance  of  the  oppressive  order  through  manipulation  and  repres­ sion.13  The  oppressed,  as  objects,  as  "things,"  have  no  purposes  except  those  their  oppressors  prescribe  for  them.  Given  the  preceding  context,  another issue  of indubitable  impor­ tance  arises:  the  fact  that  certain  members  of  the  oppressor  class  join  the oppressed  in their struggle for liberation,  thus moving from  one  pole  of the  contradiction  to  the  other.  Theirs  is  a  fundamental  role,  and  has  been  so  throughout  the  history  of  this  struggle.  It  happens,  however,  that  as they  cease  to be  exploiters  or  indifferent  spectators  or  simply  the  heirs  of exploitation  and  move  to  the  side  of the  exploited,  they  almost  always  bring  with  them  the  marks  of  their origin: their prejudices  and their deformations,  which  include  a lack  of confidence  in  the  peoples  ability  to think,  to want,  and  to  know.  Accordingly,  these  adherents  to the people's cause  constantly  run  the  risk  of falling  into  a type  of generosity  as malefic  as that of  the oppressors.  The  generosity  of the oppressors  is nourished by an  unjust  order,  which  must  be  maintained  in  order  to  justify  that  generosity.  Our  converts,  on  the  other  hand,  truly  desire  to trans­ form the unjust order; but because of their background they believe  that  they  must  be  the  executors  of  the  transformation.  They  talk  about  the  people,  but  they  do  not  trust  them;  and  trusting  the  people  is  the  indispensable  precondition  for  revolutionary  change.  A real  humanist  can  be  identified  more  by  his  trust  in  the  people,  which  engages  him  in  their  struggle,  than  by  a thousand  actions  in  their  favor without  that  trust.  Those  who  authentically  commit  themselves  to  the  people  must  re­examine  themselves  constantly.  This  conversion  is  so  radical  as  not  to  allow  of ambiguous  behavior.  To affirm  this commitment  but  to consider  oneself  the  proprietor  of revolutionary  wisdom—which  13.  Regarding  the  "dominant  forms  of  social  control,"  see  Herbert  Marcuse,  One-Dimensional Man  (Boston,  1964)  and Eros and Civilization  (Boston,  1955).  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  ­ 6 1  must  then  be  given  to (or imposed  on) the  people—is  to retain  the  old  ways.  The  man  or woman  who  proclaims  devotion  to  the  cause  of liberation  yet is unable to enter into communion with  the people,  whom he or she continues to regard as totally ignorant,  is grievously  self­deceived.  The  convert  who  approaches  the  people  but  feels  alarm  at  each  sfelp  they  take,  each  doubt  they  express,  and  each  suggestion  they  offer,  and  attempts  to  impose  his  "status," remains  nostalgic  towards  his origins.  Conversion  to the people  requires a profound rebirth. Those who  undergo it must  take on a new form of existence; they can no longer  remain as they were.  Only through comradeship with the  oppressed  can  the  converts  understand  their  characteristic  ways  of living  and  behaving, which in diverse moments reflect the structure of domina­ tion.  One  of these  characteristics  is  the  previously  mentioned  exis­ tential  duality  of  the  oppressed,  who  are  at  the  same  time  themselves  and  the  oppressor  whose  image  they  have  internalized.  Accordingly,  until  they concretely  "discover" their oppressor  and in  turn  their  own  consciousness,  they  nearly  always  express  fatalistic  attitudes  towards  their  situation.  The peasant begins to get courage to overcome his dependence  when he realizes that he is dependent.  Until then, he goes along  with the boss and says "What can I do? I'm only a peasant."14  When  superficially  analyzed,  this fatalism  is sometimes  interpreted  as a docility that is a trait of national character.  Fatalism in the  guise  of docility  is  the  fruit  of an historical  and  sociological  situation,  not  an essential  characteristic  of a people's  behavior.  It almost always is  related  to  the  power  of destiny  or fate  or fortune—inevitable  forc­ es—or  to  a  distorted  view  of  God.  Under  the  sway  of  magic  and  myth,  the  oppressed  (especially  the  peasants,  who  are  almost  sub­ merged  in  nature)15  see  their  suffering,  the  fruit  of  exploitation,  14.  Words of a peasant  during an  interview  with  the  author.  15.  See  Candido  Mendes, Memento dos vivos—A Esquerda catdlica no Brasil (Rio,  1966).  6 2 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  as the will of God—as if God were the creator of this "organized disorder." Submerged in reality, the oppressed cannot perceive clearly the "order" which serves the interests of the oppressors whose image they have internalized. Chafing under the restrictions of this order, they often manifest a type of horizontal violence, striking out at their own comrades for the pettiest reasons. The colonized man will first manifest this aggressiveness which has been deposited in his bones against his own people. This is the period when the niggers beat each other up, and the police and magistrates do not know which way to turn when faced with the astonishing waves of crime in North Africa. . . . While the settler or the policeman has the right the livelong day to strike the native, to insult him and to make him crawl to them, you will see the native reaching for his knife at the slightest hostile or aggressive glance cast on him by another native; for the last resort of the native is to defend his personality vis-a-vis his brother.16 It is possible that in this behavior they are once more manifesting their duality. Because the oppressor exists within their oppressed comrades, when they attack those comrades they are indirectly at- tacking the oppressor as well. On the other hand, at a certain point in their existential experi- ence the oppressed feel an irresistible attraction towards the oppres- sors and their way of life. Sharing this way of life becomes an overpowering aspiration. In their alienation, the oppressed want at any cost to resemble the oppressors, to imitate them, to follow them. This phenomenon is especially prevalent in the middle-class op- pressed, who yearn to be equal to the "eminent" men and women of the upper class. Albert Memmi, in an exceptional analysis of the "colonized mentality," refers to the contempt he felt towards the colonizer, mixed with "passionate" attraction towards him. 16.  Frantz  Fanon, The Wretched of the Earth  (New  York,  1968),  p.  52.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  • 63  How could the colonizer look after his workers while periodically gunning down a crowd of colonized? How could the colonized deny himself so cruelly yet make such excessive demands? How could he hate the colonizers and yet admire them so passion- ately? (I too felt this admiration in spite of myself.)17 Self-depreciation is another characteristic of the oppressed, which derives from their internalization of the opinion the oppressors hold of them. So often do they hear that they are good for nothing, know nothing and are incapable of learning anything—that they are sick, lazy, and unproductive—that in the end they become convinced of their own unfitness. The peasant feels inferior to the boss because the boss seems to be the only one who knows things and is able to run things.18 They call themselves ignorant and say the "professor" is the one who has knowledge and to whom they should listen. The criteria of knowledge imposed upon them are the conventional ones. "Why don't you," said a peasant participating in a culture circle,19 "explain the pictures first? That way it'll take less time and wont give us a headache." Almost never do they realize that they, too, "know things" they have learned in their relations with the world and with other women and men. Given the circumstances which have produced their dual- ity, it is only natural that they distrust themselves. Not infrequently, peasants in educational projects begin to discuss a generative theme in a lively manner, then stop suddenly and say to the educator: "Excuse us, we ought to keep quiet and let you talk. You are the one who knows, we don't know anything." They often insist that there is no difference between them and the ani- mals; when they do admit a difference, it favors the animals. "They are freer than we are." 17. The Colonizer and the Colonized  (Boston,  1967),  p.  x.  18.  Words of a peasant  during an  interview  with  the  author.  19.  See  chapter 3,  p.  113 ff.—Translators note.  6 4 ­ P A U L O  F R E I R E  It is striking, however, to observe how this self-depreciation changes with the first changes in the situation of oppression. I heard a peasant leader say in an asentamiento20 meeting, "They used to say we were unproductive because we were lazy and drunkards. All lies. Now that we are respected as men, were going to show every- one that we were never drunkards or lazy. We were exploited!" As long as their ambiguity persists, the oppressed are reluctant to resist, and totally lack confidence in themselves. They have a diffuse, magical belief in the invulnerability and power of the oppres- sor.21 The magical force of the landowners power holds particular sway in the rural areas. A sociologist friend of mine tells of a group of armed peasants in a Latin American country who recently took over a latifundium. For tactical reasons, they planned to hold the landowner as a hostage. But not one peasant had the courage to guard him; his very presence was terrifying. It is also possible that the act of opposing the boss provoked guilt feelings. In truth, the boss was "inside" them. The oppressed must see examples of the vulnerability of the op- pressor so that a contrary conviction can begin to grow within them. Until this occurs, they will continue disheartened, fearful, and beaten. 22 As long as the oppressed remain unaware of the causes of their condition, they fatalistically "accept" their exploitation. Fur- ther, they are apt to react in a passive and alienated manner when confronted with the necessity to struggle for their freedom and self- affirmation. Little by little, however, they tend to try out forms of rebellious action. In working towards liberation, one must neither lose sight of this passivity nor overlook the moment of awakening. Within their unauthentic view of the world and of themselves, the oppressed feel like "things" owned by the oppressor. For the latter, to be is to have, almost always at the expense of those who have 20. Asentamiento  refers  to  a  production  unit  of  the  Chilean  agrarian  reform  experiment.—Translators  note.  21.  "The  peasant  has  an  almost  instinctive  fear  of  the  boss." Interview  with  a  peasant.  22.  See  Regis  Debray, Revolution in the Revolution?  (New York,  1967).  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ' 6 5  nothing.  For  the  oppressed,  at  a certain  point  in  their  existential  experience, to be  is not  to resemble  the  oppressor,  but to be under him,  to depend  on him.  Accordingly,  the oppressed are emotionally  dependent.  The peasant is a dependent.  He cant say what he wants. Before  he  discovers  his  dependence,  he  suffers.  He  lets  off  steam  at  home, where he shouts at his children, beats them, and despairs.  He complains about his wife and thinks everything is dreadful.  He doesn't let off steam with the boss because he thinks the boss  is a superior being.  Lots of times,  the peasant gives vent to his  sorrows by drinking.23  This  total  emotional  dependence  can  lead  the  oppressed  to  what  Fromm calls necrophilic behavior: the destruction  of life—their own  or that  of their  oppressed  fellows.  It is only when  the oppressed find the oppressor out and become  involved in the organized struggle for their liberation that they begin  to  believe  in  themselves.  This  discovery  cannot  be  purely  intellec­ tual but  must  involve action; nor can it be limited to mere  activism,  but  must  include  serious  reflection:  only  then  will  it  be  a praxis.  Critical  and  liberating  dialogue,  which  presupposes  action,  must  be  carried  on  with  the  oppressed  at  whatever  the  stage  of  their  struggle for liberation.24 The content of that dialogue can and should  vary in accordance  with  historical  conditions  and the  level at which  the  oppressed  perceive  reality.  But  to  substitute  monologue,  slo­ gans,  and  communiques  for  dialogue  is  to  attempt  to  liberate  the  oppressed  with  the  instruments  of  domestication.  Attempting  to  liberate  the  oppressed  without  their  reflective  participation  in  the  act  of  liberation  is  to  treat  them  as  objects  which  must  be  saved  from  a burning  building;  it  is  to  lead  them  into  the  populist  pitfall  and transform  them  into  masses which  can be  manipulated.  At  all  stages  of  their  liberation,  the  oppressed  must  see  them­ 23.  Interview  with  a peasant.  24.  Not in the open,  of course; that would only provoke the fury of the oppressor  and lead  to still  greater  repression.  66-PAULO FREIRE selves as women and men engaged in the ontological and historical vocation of becoming more fully human. Reflection and action be- come imperative when one does not erroneously attempt to dichoto- mize the content of humanity from its historical forms. The insistence that the oppressed engage in reflection on their concrete situation is not a call to armchair revolution. On the con- trary, reflection—true reflection—leads to action. On the other hand, when the situation calls for action, that action will constitute an authentic praxis only if its consequences become the object of critical reflection. In this sense, the praxis is the new raison d'etre of the oppressed; and the revolution, which inaugurates the historical moment of this raison d'etre, is not viable apart from their concomi- tant conscious involvement. Otherwise, action is pure activism. To achieve this praxis, however, it is necessary to trust in the oppressed and in their ability to reason. Whoever lacks this trust will fail to initiate (or will abandon) dialogue, reflection, and commu- nication, and will fall into using slogans, communiques, monologues, and instructions. Superficial conversions to the cause of liberation carry this danger. Political action on the side of the oppressed must be pedagogical action in the authentic sense of the word, and, therefore, action with the oppressed. Those who work for liberation must not take advantage of the emotional dependence of the oppressed— dependence that is the fruit of the concrete situation of domination which surrounds them and which engendered their unauthentic view of the world. Using their dependence to create still greater dependence is an oppressor tactic. Libertarian action must recognize this dependence as a weak point and must attempt through reflection and action to transform it into independence. However, not even the best-intentioned lead- ership can bestow independence as a gift. The liberation of the oppressed is a liberation of women and men, not things. Accordingly, while no one liberates himself by his own efforts alone, neither is he liberated by others. Liberation, a human phenomenon, cannot be achieved by semihumans. Any attempt to treat people as semihu- PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ' 6 7  mans only dehumanizes  them.  When people are already dehuman­ ized, due to the oppression they suffer,  the process of their liberation  must  not  employ  the  methods  of dehumanization.  The  correct  method  for  a revolutionary  leadership  to  employ  in  the task of liberation is, therefore, not "libertarian propaganda." Nor  can  the  leadership  merely  "implant"  in  the  oppressed  a  belief  in  freedom,  thus  thinking  to win  their  trust.  The  correct  method  lies  in  dialogue.  The  conviction  of  the  oppressed  that  they  must  fight  for their liberation is not a gift bestowed by the revolutionary leader­ ship,  but  the  result  of their  own conscientizagdo. The  revolutionary  leaders  must  realize  that  their  own  conviction  of the  necessity  for  struggle  (an indispensable  dimension  of revolu­ tionary  wisdom)  was  not  given  to  them  by  anyone  else—if  it  is  authentic.  This  conviction  cannot  be  packaged  and  sold;  it  is  reached,  rather,  by means of a totality of reflection  and action.  Only  the leaders  own involvement in reality, within an historical situation,  led  them  to criticize  this  situation  and to wish  to change  it.  Likewise,  the  oppressed  (who  do  not  commit  themselves  to  the  struggle  unless  they  are  convinced,  and  who,  if  they  do  not  make  such  a commitment,  withhold  the  indispensable  conditions  for  this  struggle) must reach this conviction as Subjects, not as objects. They  also must intervene critically in the situation which surrounds  them  and whose  mark  they  bear; propaganda  cannot  achieve  this.  While  the conviction of the necessity for struggle (without which the strug­ gle  is  unfeasible)  is  indispensable  to  the  revolutionary  leadership  (indeed,  it was this conviction  which constituted  that leadership),  it  is  also  necessary  for  the  oppressed.  It  is  necessary,  that  is,  unless  one intends to carry out the transformation for  the oppressed rather  than with  them.  It is my belief that only the latter form of transfor­ mation  is valid.25  The  object  in  presenting  these  considerations  is  to  defend  the  eminently pedagogical character of the revolution. The revolutionary  leaders  of every  epoch  who  have affirmed  that  the  oppressed  must  25.  These points will be discussed at length in chapter 4.  68­PAULO  FREIRE  accept the struggle for their liberation—an obvious point—have also  thereby  implicitly  recognized  the  pedagogical  aspect  of this  strug­ gle.  Many  of  these  leaders,  however  (perhaps  due  to  natural  and  understandable  biases  against  pedagogy),  have  ended  up  using  the  "educational" methods employed by the oppressor.  They deny peda­ gogical  action  in  the  liberation  process,  but  they  use  propaganda  to  convince.  It  is  essential  for  the  oppressed  to  realize  that  when  they  accept  the  struggle  for  humanization  they  also  accept,  from  that  moment,  their  total  responsibility  for  the  struggle.  They  must  realize  that  they  are  fighting  not  merely  for freedom  from  hunger,  but  for  .  .  . freedom  to create and to construct,  to wonder and to ven­ ture.  Such  freedom  requires  that  the  individual  be  active and  responsible,  not a slave or a well­fed cog in the machine.  . . .  It  is not enough that men are not slaves; if social conditions further  the  existence  of automatons,  the  result  will  not be  love of life,  but love of death.26  The  oppressed,  who  have  been  shaped  by  the  death­affirming  cli­ mate of oppression,  must find through their struggle the way to life­ affirming  humanization,  which  does  not  lie simply  in  having  more  to  eat  (although  it  does  involve  having  more  to  eat  and  cannot  fail  to include this aspect). The oppressed have been destroyed precisely  because  their  situation  has  reduced  them  to  things.  In  order  to  regain their humanity they must cease to be things and fight as men  and  women.  This  is  a  radical  requirement.  They  cannot  enter  the  struggle  as objects  in  order later  to become  human  beings.  The  struggle  begins  with  men's  recognition  that  they  have  been  destroyed.  Propaganda,  management,  manipulation—all  arms  of  domination—cannot  be  the  instruments  of  their  rehumanization.  The  only  effective  instrument  is  a humanizing  pedagogy  in  which  the revolutionary  leadership establishes a permanent relationship of  dialogue with the oppressed.  In a humanizing pedagogy the  method  26.  Fromm, op. cit., pp. 52­53.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ­ 6 9  ceases  to be  an  instrument  by  which  the  teachers  (in  this  instance,  the  revolutionary  leadership)  can  manipulate  the  students  (in  this  instance,  the  oppressed),  because  it  expresses  the  consciousness  of  the  students  themselves.  The method is, in fact, the external form of consciousness mani­ fest  in  acts,  which  takes  on  the  fundamental  property  of con­ sciousness—its  intentionality.  The  essence  of consciousness  is  being with  the world,  and this  behavior is permanent  and un­ avoidable.  Accordingly,  consciousness  is  in  essence  a  4way to­ wards  something  apart  from  itself,  outside  itself,  which  surrounds it and which it apprehends by means of its ideational  capacity.  Consciousness  is  thus  by definition  a method,  in  the  most general sense of the word.27  A  revolutionary  leadership  must  accordingly  practice co-inten- tional education.  Teachers and students (leadership and people), co­ intent on reality,  are both  Subjects,  not only in the task of unveiling  that reality,  and thereby coming to know it critically,  but in the task  of re­creating that knowledge.  As they attain this knowledge of real­ ity through common  reflection  and action,  they discover  themselves  as  it£  permanent  re­creators.  In  this  way,  the  presence  of  the  op­ pressed  in  the  struggle  for  their  liberation  will  be  what  it  should  be: not  pseudo­participation,  but  committed  involvement.  27.  Alvaro Vieira Pinto, from a work in preparation on the philosophy of science.  I consider  the quoted portion of great importance  for the understanding of a prob­ lem­posing  pedagogy  (to  be  presented  in  chapter  2),  and  wish  to  thank  Professor  Vieira Pinto for permission  to cite  his work  prior to  publication.  CHAPTER  2 A careful analysis of the teacher­student relationship at any  level,  inside or outside  the  school,  reveals its fundamen­ tally narrative character. This relationship involves a nar­ rating  Subject  (the  teacher)  and  patient,  listening  objects  (the  students). The contents, whether values or empirical dimensions of  reality, tend in the process of being narrated to become lifeless and  petrified.  Education is suffering  from narration sickness.  The  teacher  talks  about  reality  as  if  it  were  motionless,  static,  compartmentalized, and predictable. Or else he expounds on a topic  completely  alien  to the  existential  experience  of the  students.  His  task  is  to  "fill" the  students  with  the  contents  of his  narration—  contents  which  are  detached from reality,  disconnected  from  the  totality  that  engendered  them  and  could  give  them  significance.  Words are emptied of their concreteness and become a hollow, alien­ ated, and alienating verbosity.  The  outstanding characteristic  of this  narrative education,  then,  is the sonority of words, not their transforming power. "Four times  four is sixteen; the capital of Para is Belem." The student records,  memorizes, and repeats these phrases without perceiving what four  times four really means, or realizing the true significance of "capital"  in the affirmation "the capital of Para is Belem," that is, what Belem  means for Pard and what Para means for Brazil.  Narration  (with  the  teacher  as  narrator)  leads  the  students  to  72'PAULO FREIRE memorize mechanically the narrated content. Worse yet, it turns them into "containers," into "receptacles" to be "filled" by the teacher. The more completely she fills the receptacles, the better a teacher she is. The more meekly the receptacles permit themselves to be filled, the better students they are. Education thus becomes an act of depositing, in which the stu- dents are the depositories and the teacher is the depositor. Instead of communicating, the teacher issues communiques and makes de- posits which the students patiently receive, memorize, and repeat. This is the "banking" concept of education, in which the scope of action allowed to the students extends only as far as receiving, filing, and storing the deposits. They do, it is true, have the opportunity to become collectors or cataloguers of the things they store. But in the last analysis, it is the people themselves who are filed away through the lack of creativity, transformation, and knowledge in this (at best) misguided system. For apart from inquiry, apart from the praxis, individuals cannot be truly human. Knowledge emerges only through invention and re-invention, through the restless, impatient, continuing, hopeful inquiry human beings pursue in the world, with the world, and with each other. In the banking concept of education, knowledge is a gift bestowed by those who consider themselves knowledgeable upon those whom they consider to know nothing. Projecting an absolute ignorance onto others, a characteristic of the ideology)of oppression, negates education and knowledge as processes of inquiry. The teacher pre- sents himself to his students as their necessary opposite; by consid- ering their ignorance absolute, he- justifies his own existence. The students, alienated like the slave in the Hegelian dialectic, accept their ignorance as justifying the teachers existence—but, unlike the slave, they never discover that they educate the teacher. The raison d'etre of libertarian education, on the other hand, lies in its drive towards reconciliation. Education must begin with the solution of the teacher-student contradiction, by reconciling the poles of the contradiction so that both are simultaneously teachers and students. PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED ' 7 3 This solution is not (nor can it be) found in the banking concept.  On the contrary,  banking education  maintains and even stimulates  the  contradiction  through  the  following  attitudes  and  practices,  which mirrOr oppressive society as a whole:  (a)  the teacher teaches and the students are taught;  (b)  the teacher knows everything and the students know nothing;  (c)  the teacher thinks and the students are thought about;  (d)  the teacher talks and the students listen—meekly;  (e)  the teacher disciplines and the students are disciplined;  (f)  the teacher chooses and enforces his choice, and the students  comply;  (g)  the  teacher acts and the  students  have the  illusion  of acting  through the action of the teacher;  (h)  the  teacher  chooses  the  program  content,  and  the  students  (who were not consulted) adapt to it;  (i)  the  teacher confuses  the  authority of knowledge  with his or  her own professional authority, which she and he sets in oppo­ sition to the freedom  of the students;  (j)  the teacher is the  Subject of the learning process,  while the  pupils are mere objects.  It is not surprising that the banking concept of education regards  men as adaptable,  manageable beings.  The  more students work at  storing  the  deposits  entrusted  to them,  the  less  they  develop  the  critical consciousness which would result from their intervention in  the world as transformers of that world. The more completely they  accept the passive role imposed on them, the more they tend simply  to adapt to the world as it is and to the fragmented  view of reality  deposited in them.  The  capability  of  banking  education  to  minimize  or  annul  the  students  creative power and to stimulate their credulity serves the  interests of the oppressors,  who care neither to have the world re­ vealed nor to see it transformed. The oppressors use their "humani­ tarianism" to preserve a profitable situation. Thus they react almost  instinctively  against any experiment  in education which  stimulates  74-PAULO FREIRE the critical faculties and is not content with a partial view of reality but always seeks out the ties which link one point to another and one problem to another. Indeed, the interests of the oppressors lie in "changing the con- sciousness of the oppressed, not the situation which oppresses them";1 for the more the oppressed can be led to adapt to that situation, the more easily they can be dominated. To achieve this end, the oppressors use the banking concept of education in con- junction with a paternalistic social action apparatus, within which the oppressed receive the euphemistic title of "welfare recipients." They are treated as individual cases, as marginal persons who devi- ate from the general configuration of a "good, organized, and just" society. The oppressed are regarded as the pathology of the healthy society, which must therefore adjust these "incompetent and lazy" folk to its own patterns by changing their mentality. These marginals need to be "integrated," "incorporated" into the healthy society that they have "forsaken." The truth is, however, that the oppressed are not "marginals," are not people living "outside" society. They have always been "inside"—inside the structure which made them "beings for others." The solution is not to "integrate" them into the structure of oppres- sion, but to transform that structure so that they can become "beings for themselves." Such transformation, of course, would undermine the oppressors purposes; hence their utilization of the banking con- cept of education to avoid the threat of student cpnscientizagdo. The banking approach to adult education, for example, will never propose to students that they critically consider reality. It will deal instead with such vital questions as whether Roger gave green grass to the goat, and insist upon the importance of learning that, on the contrary, floger gave green grass to the rabbit. The "humanism" of the banking approach masks the effort to turn women and men into automatons—the very negation of their ontological vocation to be more fully human. 1. Simone de Beauvoir, La Pensee de Droite, Aujord'hui (Paris); ST, El Pensami- ento politico de la Derecha (Buenos Aires, 1963), p. 34. PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED ' 7 5 Those  who use  the banking approach,  knowingly  or unknowingly  (for there are innumerable well­intentioned bank­clerk teachers who  do  not  realize  that  they  are  serving  only  to  dehumanize),  fail  to  perceive  that  the  deposits  themselves  contain  contradictions  about  reality.  But,  sooner  or later,  these  contradictions  may lead  formerly  passive students to turn against their domestication  and the attempt  to domesticate  reality. They may discover through existential experi­ ence  that  their  present  way of life  is  irreconcilable  with  their voca­ tion  to  become  fully  human.  They  may  perceive  through  their  relations  with  reality  that  reality  is  really  a process,  undergoing  constant  transformation.  If men  and women  are searchers  and their  ontological  vocation  is  humanization,  sooner  or later  they  may per­ ceive  the  contradiction  in  which  banking  education  seeks  to main­ tain  them,  and  then  engage  themselves  in  the  struggle  for  their  liberation.  But the humanist,  revolutionary educator cannot wait for this pos­ sibility  to  materialize.  From  the  outset,  her  efforts  must  coincide  with  those  of  the  students  to  engage  in  critical  thinking  and  the  quest  for  mutual  humanization.  His  efforts  must  be  imbued  with a  profqund  trust  in  people  and  their  creative  power.  To achieve  this,  they  must  be  partners  of the  students  in their relations with  them.  The  banking  concept  does  not  admit  to  such  partnership—and  necessarily  so.  To resolve  the  teacher­student  contradiction,  to  ex­ change  the  role  of depositor,  prescriber,  domesticator,  for  the  role  of  student  among  students  would  be  to  undermine  the  power  of  oppression  and  serve  the  cause  of liberation.  Implicit  in the  banking concept  is Uie assumption  of a dichotomy  between  human  beings  and  the  world:  a  person  is  merely in  the  world,  not with  the world or with others; the individual  is spectator,  not  re­creator.  In  this  view,  the  person  is  not  a  conscious  being  (corpo consciente); he  or she  is rather the possessor of a conscious­ ness:  an  empty  "mind" passively  open  to  the  reception  of  deposits  of reality from  the world outside.  For example,  my desk,  my books,  my coffee  cup, all the objects before  me—as bits of the world which  surround  me—would  be  "inside"  me,  exactly  as  I  am  inside  my  7 6 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  study right now. This view makes no distinction between being ac- cessible to consciousness and entering consciousness. The distinc- tion, however, is essential: the objects which surround me are simply accessible to my consciousness, not located within it. I am aware of them, but they are not inside me. It follows logically from the banking notion of consciousness that the educator s role is to regulate the way the world "enters into" the students. The teachers task is to organise a process which already occurs spontaneously, to "fill" the students by making deposits of information which he or she considers to constitute true knowledge.2 And since people "receive" the world as passive entities, education should make them more passive still, and adapt them to the world. The educated individual is the adapted person, because she or he is better "fit" for the world. Translated into practice, this concept is well suited to the purposes of the oppressors, whose tranquility rests on how well people fit the world the oppressors have created, and how little they question it. The more completely the majority adapt to the purposes which the dominant minority prescribe for them (thereby depriving them of the right to their own purposes), the more easily the minority can continue to prescribe. The theory and practice of banking education serve this end quite efficiently. Verbalistic lessons, reading require- ments, 3 the methods for evaluating "knowledge," the distance be- tween the teacher and the taught, the criteria, for promotion: everything in this ready-to-wear approach serves to obviate thinking. The bank-clerk educator does not realize that there is no true security in his hypertrophied role, that one must seek to live with others in solidarity. One cannot impose oneself, nor even merely 2.  This  concept  corresponds  to  what  Sartre  calls  the  "digestive" or  "nutritive"  concept  of education,  in  which  knowledge  is  "fed" by  the  teacher  to  the  students  to "fill them out." See Jean­Paul  Sartre, "Une idee fundamentale  de la phenomeno­ logie  de  Husserl:  L'intentionalite," Situations I  (Paris,  1947).  3.  For example,  some professors  specify  in their  reading lists that a book  should  be  read  from  pages  10 to  15—and  do  this  to "help" their  students!  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 77  co­exist  with  one's  students.  Solidarity  requires  true  communica­ tion,  and the concept by which such an educator is guided fears and  proscribes< communication.  Yet  only  through  communication  can  human  life  hold  meaning.  The  teachers  thinking  is  authenticated  only  by  the  authenticity  of  the  students  thinking.  The  teacher  cannot  think  for  her  students,  nor can she impose her thought on them. Authentic thinking,  think­ ing  that  is  concerned  about reality,  does  not  take  place  in  ivory  tower isolation,  but only in communication.  If it is true that thought  has  meaning  only  when  generated  by  action  upon  the  world,  the  subordination  of students  to teachers  becomes  impossible.  Because  banking  education  begins  with  a false  understanding  of  men  and  women  as  objects,  it  cannot  promote  the  development  of what  Fromm  calls  "biophily," but  instead  produces  its  opposite:  "necrophily."  While life is characterized by growth in a structured,  functional  manner, the necrophilous person loves all that does not grow, all  that  is  mechanical.  The  necrophilous  person  is  driven  by  the  desire  to transform  the organic into the inorganic,  to approach  life mechanically, as if all living persons were things.  .  .  . Mem­ ory,  rather than experience; having,  rather than being,  is what  counts.  The  necrophilous  person  can  relate  to  an  object—a  flower  or a person—only if he possesses it; hence a threat to his  possession  is a threat to himself;  if he loses possession he loses  contact with the world.  . . .  He loves control,  and in the act of  controlling he kills life.4  Oppression—overwhelming  control—is  necrophilic;  it  is  nour­ ished  by  love  of death,  not  life.  The  banking  concept  of education,  which  serves  the  interests  of oppression,  is also necrophilic.  Based  on  a mechanistic,  static,  naturalistic,  spatialized  view  of conscious­ ness,  it  transforms  students  into  receiving  objects.  It  attempts  to  control  thinking  and  action,  leads  women  and  men  to adjust  to  the  world,  and  inhibits  their  creative  power.  4.  Fromm, op. cit.y  p. 41.  7 8 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  When  their  efforts  to  act  responsibly  are  frustrated,  when  they  find  themselves  unable  to  use  their  faculties,  people  suffer.  "This  suffering due to impotence  is rooted in the very fact that the human  equilibrium  has  been  disturbed/'5  But  the  inability  to  act  which  causes  people's  anguish  also causes  them  to reject  their  impotence,  by  attempting  . . .  to restore  [their] capacity to act.  But can [they],  and how?  One  way is  to  submit  to  and  identify  with  a person  or group  having power. By this symbolic participation in another persons  life,  [men have] the illusion of acting, when in reality [they] only  submit to and become a part of those who act.6  Populist manifestations  perhaps best exemplify  this type of behav­ ior by  the  oppressed,  who,  by  identifying  with  charismatic  leaders,  come to feel that they themselves are active and effective.  The rebel­ lion  they  express  as  they  emerge  in  the  historical  process  is  moti­ vated by  that desire  to act effectively.  The  dominant elites  consider  the  remedy  to  be  more  domination  and  repression,  carried  out  in  the  name  of freedom,  order,  and  social  peace  (that  is,  the  peace  of  the  elites).  Thus  they  can  condemn­—logically,  from  their  point  of  view—"the  violence  of a strike  by  workers  and  [can] call  upon  the  state in the same breath to use violence in putting down the strike."7  Education  as  the  exercise  of domination  stimulates  the  credulity  of students,  with the  ideological  intent  (often  not perceived by edu­ cators)  of  indoctrinating  them  to  adapt  to  the  world  of oppression.  This  accusation  is  not  made  in  the  naive  hope  that  the  dominant  elites  will  thereby  simply  abandon  the  practice.  Its  objective  is  to  call  the  attention  of true  humanists  to the  fact that  they  cannot  use  banking  educational  methods  in  the  pursuit  of  liberation,  for  they  would only negate that very pursuit.  Nor may a revolutionary society  inherit  these  methods  from  an oppressor  society.  The  revolutionary  society  which  practices  banking  education  is  either  misguided  or  5. Ibid., p. 31.  6. Ibid. 1.  Reinhold Niebuhr, Moral Man and Immoral Society (New York, 1960), p. 130.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ­ 7 9  mistrusting of people. In either event, it is threatened by the specter  of reaction.  Unfortunately,  those  who  espouse  the  cause  of  liberation  are  themselves surrounded and influenced by the climate which gener­ ates the banking concept,  and often do not perceive its true signifi­ cance  or its  dehumanizing  power.  Paradoxically,  then,  they  utilize  this  same instrument  of alienation  in what they consider an effort  to  liberate.  Indeed,  some  "revolutionaries" brand  as "innocents,"  "dreamers," or even "reactionaries" those who would challenge this  educational practice. But one does not liberate people by alienating  them.  Authentic  liberation—the  process  of  humanization—is  not  another deposit to be made in men. Liberation is a praxis: the action  and  reflection  of  men  and  women  upon  their  world  in  order  to  transform  it.  Those  truly committed to the cause of liberation can  accept neither the mechanistic concept of consciousness as an empty  vessel  to be filled, nor the  use  of banking methods  of domination  (propaganda,  slogans—deposits)  in the name of liberation.  Those truly committed to liberation must reject the banking con­ cept in its entirety,  adopting instead a concept of women and men  as conscious beings, and consciousness as consciousness intent upon  the world. They must abandon the educational goal of deposit­mak­ ing and replace it with the posing of the problems of human beings  in their relations with  the world.  "Problem­posing" education,  re­ sponding  to  the  essence  of  consciousness—intentionality—rejects  communiques and embodies communication. It epitomizes the spe­ cial characteristic of consciousness: being conscious of, not only as  intent  on  objects  but  as  turned  in  upon  itself  in  a  Jasperian  "split"—consciousness as consciousness of consciousness.  Liberating education consists in acts of cognition, not transferrals  of  information.  It  is  a learning  situation  in  which  the  cognizable  object  (far from  being  the  end  of the  cognitive  act)  intermediates  the cognitive actors—teacher on the one hand and students on the  other. Accordingly, the practice of problem­posing education entails  at the outset that the teacher­student contradiction to be resolved.  Dialogical  relations—indispensable  to  the  capacity  of  cognitive  80-PAULO FREIRE actors to cooperate in perceiving the same cognizable object—are otherwise impossible. Indeed, problem-posing education, which breaks with the vertical patterns characteristic of banking education, can fulfill its function as the practice of freedom only if it can overcome the above contra- diction. Through dialogue, the teacher-of-the-students and the stu- dents-of-the-teacher cease to exist and a new term emerges: teacher- student with students-teachers. The te&her is no longer merely the-one-who-teaches, but one who is himself taught in dialogue with the students, who in turn while being taught also teach. They be- come jointly responsible for a process in which all grow. In this process, arguments based on "authority" are no longer valid; in order to function, authority must be on the side of freedom, not against it. Here, no one teaches another, nor is anyone self-taught. People teach each other, mediated by the world, by the cognizable objects which in banking education are "owned" by the teacher. The banking concept (with its tendency to dichotomize every- thing) distinguishes two stages in the action of the educator. During the first, he cognizes a cognizable object while he prepares his les- sons in his study or his laboratory; during the second, he expounds to his students about that object. The students are not called upon to know, but to memorize the contents narrated by the teacher. Nor do the students practice any act of cognition, since the object to- wards which that act should be directed is the property of the teacher rather than a medium evoking the critical reflection of both teacher and students. Hence in the name of the "preservation of culture and knowledge" we have a system which achieves neither true knowledge nor true culture. The problem-posing method does not dichotomize the activity of the teacher-student: she is not "cognitive" at one point and "narra- tive" at another. She is always "cognitive," whether preparing a proj- ect or engaging in dialogue with the students. He does not regard cognizable objects as his private property, but as the object of re- flection by himself and the students. In this way, the problem-posing educator constantly re-forms his reflections in the reflection of the PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  ­ 8 1  students. The students—no longer docile listeners—are now critical co-investigators in dialogue with the teacher. The teacher presents the material to the students for their consideration, and re-considers her earlier considerations as the students express their own. The role of the problem-posing educator is to create; together with the students, the conditions under which knowledge at the level of the doxa is superseded by true knowledge, at the level of the logos, Whereas banking education anesthetizes and inhibits creative power, problem-posing education involves a constant unveiling of reality. The former attempts to maintain the submersion of con- sciousness; the latter strives for the emergence of consciousness and critical intervention in reality. Students, as they are increasingly posed with problems relating to themselves in the world and with the world, will feel increasingly challenged and obliged to respond to that challenge. Because they apprehend the challenge as interrelated to other problems within a total context, not as a theoretical question, the resulting comprehen- sion tends to be increasingly critical and thus constantly less alien- ated. Their response to the challenge evokes new challenges, followed by new understandings; and gradually the students come to regard themselves as committed. Education as the practice of freedom—as opposed to education as the practice of domination—denies that man is abstract, isolated, independent, and unattached to the world; it also denies that the world exists as a reality apart from people. Authentic reflection con- siders neither abstract man nor the world without people, but peo- ple in their relations with the world. In these relations consciousness and world are simultaneous: consciousness neither precedes the world nor follows it. La conscience et le monde sont donnes d'un meme coup: exte- rieur par essence a la conscience, le monde est, par essence re- latif a elle.8 8.  Sartre; op. cit.,  p. 32.  82 • P A U L O FREIRE In one of our culture circles in Chile, the group was discussing (based on a codification9) the anthropological concept of culture. In the midst of the discussion, a peasant who by banking standards was completely ignorant said: "Now I see that without man there is no world." When the educator responded: "Let's say, for the sake of argument, that all the men on earth were to die, but that the earth itself remained, together with trees, birds, animals, rivers, seas, the stars . . , wouldn't all this be a world?" "Oh no," the peasant replied emphatically. "There would be no one to say: This is a world'." The peasant wished to express the idea that there would be lack- ing the consciousness of the world which necessarily implies the world of consciousness. 7 cannot exist without a non-I. In turn, the not-I depends on that existence. The world which brings conscious- ness into existence becomes the world of that consciousness. Hence, the previously cited affirmation of Sartre: "La conscience et le monde sont donnes dun meme coup." As women and men, simultaneously reflecting on themselves and on the world, increase the scope of their perception, they begin to direct their observations towards previously inconspicuous phe- nomena: In perception properly so-called, as an explicit awareness [Gewahren], I am turned towards the object, to &e paper, for instance. I apprehend it as being this here and now; The appre- hension is a singling out, every object having a background in experience. Around and about the paper lie books, pencils, ink- well, and so forth, and these in a certain sense are also "per- ceived", perceptually there, in the "field of intuition"; but whilst I was turned towards the paper there was no turning in their direction, nor any apprehending of them, not even in a second- ary sense. They appeared and yet were not singled out, were not posited on their own account. Every perception of a thing has such a zone of background intuitions or background aware- ness, if "intuiting" already includes the state of being turned towards, and this also is a "conscious experience", or more briefly 9. See chapter 3.—Translator's note. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  • 83  a "consciousness  of*  all  indeed  that  in point  of fact lies  in the  co­perceived objective background.10  That  which  had  existed  objectively  but  had  not  been  perceived  in  its  deeper  implications  (if indeed  it  was perceived  at  all) begins  to  "stand  out," assuming  the  character  of a problem  and  therefore  of  challenge. Thus,  men and women begin to single out elements from  their "background awareness" and to reflect  upon  them.  These  ele­ ments  are  now objects  of their  consideration,  and,  as  such,  objects  of their action  and cognition.  In problem­posing  education,  people  develop their power to per­ ceive  critically the way they exist  in  the  world with which  and in which  they  find  themselves;  they  come  to  see  the  world  not  as  a  static reality,  but as a reality in process,  in transformation.  Although  the  dialectical  relations  of  women  and  men  with  the  world  exist  independently  of how  these  relations  are  perceived  (or whether  or  not  they  are perceived  at all),  it  is  also  true  that  the  form  of action  they adopt is to a large extent a function  of how they perceive  them­ selves  in  the  world.  Hence,  the  teacher­student  and  the  students­ teachers reflect simultaneously on themselves and the world without  dichotomizing  this reflection  from  action,  and thus establish  an au­ thentic  form  of thought  and action.  Once  again,  the  two  educational  concepts  and  practices  under  analysis come  into conflict.  Banking education  (for obvious  reasons)  attempts,  by  mythicizing  reality,  to  conceal  certain  facts  which  ex­ plain the way human beings exist in the world; problem­posing edu­ cation  sets  itself  the  task  of  demythologizing.  Banking  education  resists  dialogue;  problem­posing  education  regards  dialogue  as  in­ dispensable  to  the  act  of  cognition  which  unveils  reality.  Banking  education  treats  students  as  objects  of  assistance;  problem­posing  education  makes them  critical  thinkers.  Banking education  inhibits  creativity  and  domesticates  (although  it cannot  completely  destroy)  the intentionality  of consciousness  by  isolating  consciousness  from  10.  Edmund  Husserl, Ideas—General Introduction to Pure Phenomenology (London,  1969), pp. 105­106.  84-PAULO FREIRE the world, thereby denying people their ontological and historical vocation of becoming more fully human. Problem-posing education bases itself on creativity and stimulates true reflection and action upon reality, thereby responding to the vocation of persons as beings who are authentic only when engaged in inquiry and creative trans- formation. In sum: banking theory and practice, as immobilizing and fixating forces, fail to acknowledge men and women as historical beings; problem-posing theory and practice take the peoples histo- ricity as their starting point. Problem-posing education affirms men and women as beings in the process of becoming—as unfinished, uncompleted beings in and with a likewise unfinished reality. Indeed, in contrast to other ani- mals who are unfinished, but not historical, people know themselves to be unfinished; they are aware of their incompletion. In this incom- pletion and this awareness lie the very roots of education as an exclusively human manifestation. The unfinished character of hu- man beings and the transformational character of reality necessitate that education be an ongoing activity. Education is thus constantly remade in the praxis. In order to be, it must become. Its "duration" (in the Bergsonian meaning of the word) is found in the interplay of the opposites permanence and change. The banking method emphasizes permanence and becomes reactionary; problem-posing education—which accepts neither a "well-behaved" present nor a predetermined future—roots itself in the dynamic present and becomes revolutionary. Problem-posing education is revolutionary futurity. Hence it is prophetic (and, as such, hopeful). Hence, it corresponds to the his- torical nature of humankind. Hence, it affirms women and men as beings who transcend themselves, who move forward and look ahead, for whom immobility represents a fatal threat, for whom looking at the past must only be a means of understanding more clearly what and who they are so that they can more wisely build the future. Hence, it identifies with the movement which engages people as beings aware of their incompletion—an historical move- ment which has its point of departure, its Subjects and its objective. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  ­ 8 5  The point of departure of the movement lies in the people them­ selves.  But  since  people  do  not  exist  apart from the  world,  apart  from  reality, the movement must begin with the human­world rela­ tionship.  Accordingly,  the  point  of departure  must always be with  men and women in the "here and now," which constitutes the situ­ ation within  which  they are submerged,  from which  they emerge,  and in which they intervene.  Only by starting from this situation—  which  determines  their perception  of it—can  they begin  to move.  To do this authentically  they must perceive  their state not as fated  and unalterable, but merely as limiting—and therefore challenging.  Whereas  the  banking  method  directly  or  indirectly  reinforces  men's  fatalistic  perception  of  their  situation,  the  problem­posing  method  presents  this very  situation  to them  as a problem.  As the  situation becomes the object of their cognition, the naive or magical  perception  which  produced  their fatalism  gives way to perception  which is able to perceive itself even as it perceives reality, and can  thus be critically objective about that reality.  A deepened  consciousness  of their situation  leads people  to ap­ prehend that situation as an historical reality susceptible of transfor­ mation.  Resignation  gives  way to the  drive for transformation  and  inquiry, over which men feel themselves to be in control. If people,  as historical beings necessarily engaged with other people in a move­ ment of inquiry,  did not control  that movement,  it would be (and  is) a violation of their humanity.  Any situation in which some indi­ viduals  prevent  others from engaging  in  the  process  of inquiry  is  one  of  violence.  The  means  used  are  not  important;  to  alienate  human  beings  from  their  own decision­making  is  to change  them  into objects.  This  movement  of inquiry  must be  directed  towards humaniza­ tion—the people's historical vocation. The pursuit of full humanity,  however,  cannot  be  carried  out  in  isolation  or  individualism,  but  only  in fellowship  and solidarity; therefore  it cannot unfold  in the  antagonistic  relations  between  oppressors  and oppressed.  No  one  can be authentically human while he prevents others from being so.  Attempting to be more human,  individualistically,  leads  to having 8 6 ' P A U L O FREIRE more, egotistically, a form of dehumanization. Not that it is not fundamental to have in order to be Human. Precisely because it is necessary, some men's having must not be allowed to constitute an obstacle to others having, must not consolidate the power of the former to crush the latter. Problem-posing education, as a humanist and liberating praxis, posits as fundamental that the people subjected to domination must fight for their emancipation. To that end, it enables teachers and students to become Subjects of the educational process by overcom- ing authoritarianism and an alienating intellectualism; it also enables people to overcome their false perception of reality. The world—no longer something to be described with deceptive words—becomes the object of that transforming action by men and women which results in their humanization. Problem-posing education does not and cannot serve the interests of the oppressor. No oppressive order could permit the oppressed to begin to question: Why? While only a revolutionary society can carry out this education in systematic terms, the revolutionary lead- ers need not take full power before they can employ the method. In the revolutionary process, the leaders cannot utilize the banking method as an interim measure, justified on grounds of expediency, with the intention of later behaving in a genuinely revolutionary fashion. They must be revolutionary—that is to say, dialogical—from the outset. CHAPTER  3 A s we attempt to analyze dialogue as a human phenomenon,  we  discover  something  which  is  the  essence  of  dialogue  itself: the word.  But the word is more  than just  an instru­ ment which  makes dialogue  possible; accordingly,  we  must  seek  its  constitutive  elements.  Within  the  word  we  find  two  dimensions,  reflection  and  action,  in  such  radical  interaction  that  if one  is  sac­ rificed—even  in  part—the  other  immediately  suffers.  There  is  no  true  word  that  is  not  at  the  same  time  a praxis.1 Thus,  to  speak  a  true  word is to transform  the  world.2  An  unauthentic  word,  one  which  is  unable  to  transform  reality,  results  when  dichotomy  is  imposed  upon  its constitutive  elements.  When  a word is deprived of its dimension  of action,  reflection  auto­ matically  suffers  as well; and the  word is changed  into  idle  chatter,  into verbalism,  into  an  alienated  and  alienating  "blah." It  becomes  an empty word, one which cannot denounce the world, for denuncia­ tion  is impossible  without  a commitment  to transform,  and there  is  no  transformation  without  action.  1.  Action  1 J I  Reflection  )  ^ d = ^ k  = praxis  Sacrifice of action = verbalism  Sacrifice of reflection = activism  2.  Some of these reflections emerged as a result of conversations with Professor  Ernani Maria Fiori.  8 8 ­ P A U L O  F R E I R E  On the other hand, if action is emphasized exclusively, to the detriment of reflection, the word is converted into activism. The latter—action for action s sake—negates the true praxis and makes dialogue impossible. Either dichotomy, by creating unauthentic forms of existence, creates also unauthentic forms of thought, which reinforce the original dichotomy. Human existence cannot be Silent, nor can it be nourished by false words, but only by true words, with which men and women transform the world. To exist, humanly, is to name the world, to change it. Once named, the world in its turn reappears to the nam- ers as a problem and requires of them a new naming. Human beings are not built in silence,3 but in word, in work, in action-reflection. But while to say the true word—which is work, which is praxis—is to transform the world, saying that word is not the privilege of some few persons, but the right of everyone. Consequently, no one can say a true word alone—nor can she say it for another, in a prescrip- tive act which robs others of their words. Dialogue is the encounter between men, mediated by the world, in order to name the world. Hence, dialogue cannot occur between those who want to name the world and those who do not wish this naming—between those who deny others the right to speak their word and those whose right to speak has been denied them. Those who have been denied their primordial right to speak their word must first reclaim this right and prevent the continuation of this dehumanizing aggression. If it is in speaking their word that people, by naming the world, transform it, dialogue imposes itself as the way by which they achieve significance as human beings. Dialogue is thus an existential neces- sity. And since dialogue is the encounter in which the united reflec- tion and action of the dialoguers are addressed to the world which 3.  I obviously  do  not  refer  to the  silence  of profound  meditation,  in which  men  only  apparently  leave  the  world,  withdrawing  from  it  in  order  to consider  it  in  its  totality,  and  thus remaining with  it.  But this  type of retreat  is only authentic  when  the meditator is "bathed" in reality; not when  the retreat  signifies contempt  for the  world  and  flight  from  it,  in a type  of "historical  schizophrenia."  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ­ 89   is  to  be  transformed  and  humanized,  this  dialogue  cannot  be  re­ duced  to  the  act  of one  persons  "depositing"  ideas  in  another,  nor  can  it  become  a simple  exchange  of ideas  to be  "consumed" by  the  discussants.  Nor  yet  is  it  a  hostile,  polemical  argument  between  those  who  are  committed  neither  to  the  naming  of the  world,  nor  to  the  search  for  truth,  but  rather  to  the  imposition  of  their  own  truth.  Because  dialogue  is  an  encounter  among  women  and  men  who  name  the  world,  it  must  not  be  a situation  where  some  name  on  behalf  of  others.  It  is  an  act  of creation;  it  must  not  serve  as a  crafty  instrument  for the domination  of one person by another.  The  domination  implicit  in  dialogue  is  that  of  the  world  by  the  dia­ logues;  it is conquest  of the world for the  liberation  of humankind.  Dialogue  cannot exist,  however,  in the absence  of a profound  love  for the  world  and for people.  The  naming of the world,  which  is an  act  of  creation  and  re­creation,  is  not  possible  if  it  is  not  infused  with  love.4  Love  is at the  same  time  the foundation  of dialogue  and  dialogue itself.  It is thus necessarily  the task of responsible  Subjects  and cannot exist in a relation  of domination.  Domination  reveals the  pathology  of  love:  sadism  in  the  dominator  and  masochism  in  the  dominated.  Because  love  is  an  act  of  courage,  not  of  fear,  love  is  commitment  to  others.  No  matter  where  the  oppressed  are  found,  the act of love is commitment to their cause—the cause of liberation.  And  this  commitment,  because  it  is  loving,  is  dialogical.  As an  act  4.  I am  more  and  more  convinced  that  true  revolutionaries  must  perceive  the  revolution,  because  of its creative  and  liberating  nature,  as an act of love.  For me,  the revolution,  which  is not possible  without a theory of revolution—and  therefore  science—is  not  irreconcilable  with  love.  On  the  contrary:  the  revolution  is  made  by people to achieve their humanization.  What,  indeed,  is the deeper motive which  moves  individuals  to  become  revolutionaries,  but  the  dehumanization  of  people?  The  distortion  imposed  on  the  word  "love" by  the  capitalist  world cannot  prevent  the  revolution  from  being  essentially  loving  in  character,  nor  can  it  prevent  the  revolutionaries  from  affirming  their  love of life.  Guevara (while admitting  the "risk  of  seeming  ridiculous")  was  not  afraid  to  affirm  it:  "Let  me  say,  with  the  risk  of  appearing  ridiculous,  that  the  true  revolutionary  is  guided  by  strong  feelings  of  love.  It  is  impossible  to  think  of an  authentic  revolutionary  without  this  quality.**  Venceremos—The Speeches and Writings of Che Guevaray  edited  by John  Gerassi  (New  York,  1969),  p.  398.  9 0 ' P A U L O FREIRE of bravery, love cannot be sentimental; as an act of freedom, it must not serve as a pretext for manipulation. It must generate other acts of freedom; otherwise, it is not love. Only by abolishing the situation of oppression is it possible to restore the love which that situation made impossible. If I do not love the world—if I do not love life—if I do not love people—I cannot enter into dialogue. On the other hand, dialogue cannot°exist without humility. The naming of the world, through which people constantly re-create that world, cannot be an act of arrogance. Dialogue, as the encounter of those addressed to the common task of learning and acting, is bro- ken if the parties (or one of them) lack humility. How can I dialogue if I always project ignorance onto others and never perceive my own? How can I dialogue if I regard myself as a case apart from others—mere "its" in whom I cannot recognize other "I"s? How can I dialogue if I consider myself a member of the in-group of "pure" men, the owners of truth and knowledge, for whom all non-members are "these people" or "the great unwashed"? How can I dialogue if I start from the premise that naming the world is the task of an elite and that the presence of the people in history is a sign of deteriora- tion, thus to be avoided? How can I dialogue if I am closed to—and even offended by—the contribution of others? How can I dialogue if I am afraid of being displaced, the mere possibility causing me torment and weakness? Self-sufficiency is incompatible with dia- logue. Men and women who lack humility (or have lost it) cannot come to the people, cannot be their partners in naming the world. Someone who cannot acknowledge himself to be as mortal as every- one else still has a long way to go before he can reach the point of encounter. At the point of encounter there are neither utter ignora- muses nor perfect sages; there are only people who are attempting, together, to learn more than they now know Dialogue further requires an intense faith in humankind, faith in their power to make and remake, to create and re-create, faith in their vocation to be more fully human (which is not the privilege of an elite, but the birthright of all). Faith in people is an a priori requirement for dialogue; the "dialogical man" believes in others P E D A G O G Y OF T H E O P P R E S S E D - 9 1 even  before  he  meets  them  face  to  face.  His  faith,  however,  is  not  naive.  The  "dialogical  man" is critical  and knows  that although  it  is  within  the  power of humans  to create  and  transform,  in  a concrete  situation of alienation individuals may be impaired in the use of that  power.  Far  from  destroying  his  faith  in  the  people,  however,  this  possibility­strikes  him as a challenge to which he must respond  He  is  convinced  that  the  power  to  create  and  transform,  even  when  thwarted in concrete situations, tends to be reborn. And that rebirth  can  occur—not  gratuitously,  but  in  and  through  the  struggle  for  liberation—in  the supersedence of slave labor by emancipated labor  which  gives  zest  to  life.  Without  this  faith  in  people,  dialogue  is  a  farce  which  inevitably  degenerates  into paternalistic  manipulation.  Founding  itself  upon  love,  humility,  and faith,  dialogue  becomes  a  horizontal  relationship  of  which  mutual  trust  between  the  dia­ logues  is  the  logical  consequence.  It  would  be  a contradiction  in  terms  if  dialogue—loving,  humble,  and  full  of faith—did  not  pro­ duce  this  climate  of  mutual  trust,  which  leads  the  dialoguers  into  ever closer partnership in the naming of the world. Conversely,  such  trust is obviously absent in the anti­dialogics of the banking method  of education.  Whereas faith in humankind is an a priori  requirement  for  dialogue,  trust  is  established  by  dialogue.  Should  it  founder,  it  will  be  seen  that  the  preconditions  were  lacking.  False  love,  false  humility,  and  feeble  faith  in  others  cannot  create  trust.  Trust  is  contingent  on  the  evidence  which  one  party  provides  the  others  of  his true,  concrete  intentions; it cannot exist if that party's words  do  not coincide with their actions. To say one thing and do another—to  take one's own word lightly—cannot inspire trust. To glorify  democ­ racy and to silence  the people  is a farce; to discourse  on  humanism  and  to  negate  people  is a lie.  Nor yet can dialogue  exist without  hope.  Hope  is rooted in men's  incompletion,  from  which  they  move  out  in  constant  search—a  search  which  can  be  carried  out  only  in  communion  with  others.  Hopelessness  is a form  of silence,  of denying  the world and  fleeing  from  it.  The  dehumanization  resulting  from  an  unjust  order  is  not  a cause  for despair but for hope,  leading to the  incessant  pursuit  of  9 2 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  the  humanity  denied  by  injustice.  Hope,  however,  does  not  consist  in  crossing  ones  arms  and  waiting.  As  long  as  I  fight,  I am  moved  by hope; and if I fight with  hope,  then  I can wait.  As the  encounter  of women and men seeking to be more fully human, dialogue cannot  be  carried  on  in a climate  of hopelessness.  If the  dialoguers  expect  nothing  to come  of their efforts,  their encounter will  be  empty and  sterile,  bureaucratic  and  tedious.  ­ Finally,  true dialogue cannot exist unless the dialoguers engage in  critical  thinking—thinking  which  discerns  an  indivisible  solidarity  between  the  world  and  the  people  and  admits  of  no  dichotomy  between  them—thinking  which  perceives  reality  as  process,  as  transformation,  rather  than  as a static  entity—thinking  which  does  not  separate  itself  from  action,  but  constantly  immerses  itself  in  temporality without fear of the risks involved.  Critical  thinking con­ trasts  with  naive  thinking,  which  sees  "historical  time  as a weight,  a stratification  of the acquisitions and experiences of the past,"5 from  which  the  present  should  emerge  normalized  and  "well­behaved."  For  the  naive  thinker,  the  important  thing  is  accommodation  to  this  normalized  "today."  For  the  critic,  the  important  thing  is  the  continuing  transformation  of reality,  in behalf of the  continuing hu­ manization  of men.  In  the  words of Pierre  Furter:  The goal will no longer be to eliminate the risks of temporality  by  clutching  to  guaranteed  space,  but  rather  to  temporalize  space .  .  . The universe is revealed to me not as space, imposing  a massive presence  to which I can but adapt,  but as a scope, a  domain which takes shape as I act upon it.6  For naive  thinking,  the  goal  is precisely  to hold fast  to this guaran­ teed  space  and  adjust  to  it.  By  thus  denying  temporality,  it  denies  itself  as well.  Only dialogue,  which  requires critical  thinking,  is also capable of  generating critical thinking.  Without dialogue there is no communi­ 5.  From  the  letter  of a friend.  6.  Pierre  Furter, Educagdo e Vida (Rio,  1966),  pp.  26­27.  PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED -93 cation, and without communication there can be no true education.  Education  which  is  able  to  resolve  the  contradiction  between  teacher and student takes place in a situation in which both address  their  act  of  cognition  to  the  object  by  which  they  are  mediated.  Thus, the dialogical character of education as the practice of freedom  does not begin when the teacher­student  meets with the students­ teachers in a pedagogical situation, but rather when the former  first  asks herself or himself what she or he will dialogue with the latter  about.  And  preoccupation  with  the  content  of  dialogue  is  really  preoccupation with the program content of education.  For the anti­dialogical banking educator,  the question of content  simply concerns  the program about which he will discourse  to his  students; and he answers his own question,  by organizing his own  program.  For  the  dialogical,  problem­posing  teacher­student,  the  program content of education  is neither a gift  nor an imposition—  bits of information  to be deposited  in the students—but rather the  organized,  systematized,  and  developed  "re­presentation" to indi­ viduals of the things about which they want to know more.7  Authentic  education  is not  carried  on by "A" for  "B" or by "A"  about "B," but rather by "A" with "B," mediated by the world—a  world which  impresses  and challenges  both  parties,  giving rise to  views or opinions about it. These views, impregnated with anxieties,  doubts,  hopes,  or  hopelessness,  imply  significant  themes  on  the  basis of which the program content of education can be built.  In its  desire  to create  an ideal  model  of the  "good man," a naively con­ ceived humanism often  overlooks the concrete,  existential,  present  situation  of  real  people.  Authentic  humanism,  in  Pierre  Furter s  words,  "consists  in  permitting  the  emergence  of the  awareness of  our full humanity, as a condition and as an obligation,  as a situation  7. In a long conversation with Malraux, Mao-Tse-Tung declared, "You know Tve proclaimed for a long time: we must teach the masses clearly what we have received from  them confusedly." AndrS Malraux, Anti-Memoirs (New York, 1968), pp. 361- 362.  This affirmation contains an entire dialogical theory of how to construct the program content of education, which cannot be elaborated according to what the educator thinks best for the students. 9 4 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  and as a project. "8 We simply cannot go to the laborers—urban or peasant9—in the banking style, to give them "knowledge" or to im- pose upon them the model of the "good man" contained in a pro- gram whose content we have ourselves organized. Many political and educational plans have failed because their authors designed them according to their own personal views of reality, never once taking into account (except as mere objects of their actions) the men- in-a-situation to whom their program was ostensibly directed. For the truly humanist educator and the authentic revolutionary, the object of action is the reality to be transformed by them together with other people—not other men and women themselves. The oppressors are the ones who act upon the people to indoctrinate them and adjust them to a reality which must remain untouched. Unfortunately, however, in their desire to obtain the support of the people for revolutionary action, revolutionary leaders often fall for the banking line of planning program content from the top down. They approach the peasant or urban masses with projects which may correspond to their own view of the world, but not to that of the people. 10 They forget that their fundamental objective is to fight 8.  Furter, op. cit.,  p.  165.  9.  The  latter,  usually  submerged  in  a  colonial  context,  are  almost  umbilically  linked  to  the  world  of  nature,  in  relation  to  which  they  feel  themselves  to  be  component  parts  rather than  shapers.  10.  "Our  cultural  workers  must  serve  the  people  with  great  enthusiasm  and  devotion,  and  they  must  link  themselves  with  the  masses,  not  divorce  themselves  from the  masses.  In  order  to  do  so,  they  must  act  in  accordance  with  the  needs  and  wishes  of  the  masses.  All  work  done  for  the  masses  must  start  from  their  needs and not from  the desire of any individual,  however well­intentioned.  It  often  happens  that  objectively  the  masses  need  a certain  change,  but  subjectively  they  are not yet conscious of the need,  not yet willing or determined  to make the change.  In  such  cases,  we  should  wait  patiently.  We  should  not  make  the  change  until,  through  our work,  most  of the  masses  have  become  conscious  of the  need  and are  willing  and  determined  to  carry  it  out.  Otherwise  we  shall  isolate  ourselves  from  the  masses.  .  .  .  There  are  two  principles  here:  one  is  the  actual  needs  of  the  masses  rather  than  what  we  fancy  they  need,  and  the  other  is  the  wishes  of  the  masses,  who  must  make  up their own minds  instead  of our making up their  minds  for them." From  the Selected Works of Mao-Tse-Tung, Vol.  III.  "The  United  Front  in Cultural  Work" (October  30,  1944) (Peking,  1967),  pp.  186­187.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  ­ 9 5  alongside  the people  for the  recovery of the people's stolen  human­ ity,  not  to  ' Avin the  people  over" to  their  side.  Such  a phrase  does  not belong  in the vocabulary of revolutionary  leaders,  but  in that of  the  oppressor.  The  revolutionary's  role  is  to  liberate,  and be  liber­ ated,  with  the  people—not  to win  them over.  In  their  political  activity,  the  dominant  elites  utilize  the  banking  concept to encourage passivity in the oppressed, corresponding with  the  latter s "submerged" state  of consciousness,  and take  advantage  of that passivity to "fill" that consciousness with slogans which create  even  more  fear  of  freedom.  This  practice  is  incompatible  with  a  truly  liberating  course  of action,  which,  by  presenting  the  oppres­ sors  slogans  as  a  problem,  helps  the  oppressed  to  "eject"  those  slogans from  within  themselves.  After  all,  the  task of the  humanists  is  surely  not  that  of pitting  their  slogans  against  the  slogans  of  the  oppressors,  with  the  oppressed  as  the  testing  ground,  "housing"  the  slogans  of first one  group  and then  the  other.  On  the  contrary,  the task of the humanists  is to see  that the oppressed become aware  of the fact that as dual beings, "housing" the oppressors within them­ selves,  they  cannot be  truly  human.  This task implies  that revolutionary  leaders do not go to the peo­ ple  in order to bring them  a message  of "salvation," but  in order to  come to know through dialogue with them both their objective situ- ation  and  their awareness  of  that  situation—the  various  levels  of  perception  of themselves  and of the world in which and with which  they  exist.  One  cannot  expect  positive  results  from  an  educational  or political action program which fails to respect the particular view  of the world held by the people.  Such a program constitutes cultural  invasion,11  good  intentions  notwithstanding.  The starting point for organizing the program content of education  or  political  action  must  be  the  present,  existential,  concrete  situ­ ation,  reflecting  the aspirations of the people.  Utilizing certain basic  contradictions,  we must pose  this existential,  concrete,  present  situ­ ation to the people as a problem which challenges them and requires  11.  This  point  will  be  analyzed  in detail  in chapter 4.  9 6 ­ P A U L O  F R E I R E  a  response—not  just  at  the  intellectual  level,  but  at  the  level  of  action.12  We  must  never  merely  discourse  on  the  present  situation,  must  never provide the people with programs which have little or nothing  to  do  with  their  own  preoccupations,  doubts,  hopes,  and  fears—  programs which  at times  in fact  increase  the fears of the  oppressed  consciousness.  It  is  not  our  role  to  speak  to  the  people  about  our  own view of the world,  nor to attempt to impose that view on them,  but  rather  to  dialogue  with  the  people  about  their  view  and  ours.  We  must  realize  that  their  view  of the  world,  manifested  variously  in their action,  reflects  their situation  in the world.  Educational and  political action which is not critically aware of this situation runs the  risk  either  of "banking" or of preaching  in  the  desert.  Often,  educators  and  politicians  speak  and  are  not  understood  because  their  language  is  not  attuned  to  the  concrete  situation  of  the people  they address.  Accordingly,  their talk is just alienated and  alienating  rhetoric.  The  language  of  the  educator  or  the  politician  (and it seems  more and more clear that the latter must also become  an  educator,  in  the  broadest  sense  of  the  word),  like  the  language  of  the  people,  cannot  exist  without  thought;  and  neither  language  nor  thought  can  exist  without  a  structure  to  which  they  refer.  In  order  to  communicate  effectively,  educator  and  politician  must  understand  the  structural  conditions  in which  the  thought  and lan­ guage  of the  people  are  dialectically  framed.  It is  to  the  reality which  mediates  men,  and to the  perception  of  that  reality  held  by  educators  and  people,  that  we  must  go  to find  the  program  content  of education.  The  investigation  of what  I have  termed  the  people s  "thematic  universe"13—the  complex  of  their  "generative  themes"—inaugurates  the  dialogue  of education  as  the  practice  of  freedom.  The  methodology  of  that  investigation  must  likewise  be  dialogical,  affording  the  opportunity  both  to  discover  12.  It  is  as  self­contradictory  for  true  humanists  to  use  the  banking  method  as  it  would  be  for  rightists  to  engage  in  problem­posing  education.  (The  latter  are  always consistent—they  never  use  a problem­posing  pedagogy.)  13.  The  expression  "meaningful  thematics" is  used  with  the  same  connotation.  PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSED -97 generative  themes  and to stimulate  people's  awareness  in regard  to  these  themes.  Consistent  with  the  liberating  purpose  of  dialogical  education,  the  object  of the  investigation  is  not  persons  (as  if  they  were  anatomical  fragments),  but  rather  the  thought­language  with  which  men  and  women  refer  to  reality,  the  levels  at  which  they  perceive  that  reality,  and  their  view  of  the  world,  in  which  their  generative  themes  are found.  Before describing a "generative theme" more precisely, which will  also  clarify  what  is  meant  by  a  "minimum  thematic  universe,"  it  seems to me indispensable  to present a few preliminary  reflections.  The concept of a generative  theme is neither an arbitrary  invention  nor a working hypothesis  to be proved.  If it were a hypothesis to be  proved,  the  initial  investigation  would seek  not  to ascertain  the  na­ ture of the  theme,  but rather the very existence  or non­existence  of  themes  themselves.  In  that event,  before  attempting  to  understand  the theme in its richness, its significance,  its plurality, its transforma­ tions,  and  its0 historical  composition,  we  would  first  have  to  verify  whether  or  not  it  is  an  objective  fact;  only  then  could  we  proceed  to apprehend  it.  Although  an attitude of critical doubt  is legitimate,  it  does  appear  possible  to  verify  the  reality  of  the  generative  theme—not  only  through one's own existential  experience,  but also  through  critical  reflection  on  the  human­world  relationship  and  on  the  relationships  between  people  implicit  in  the  former.  This  point  deserves  more  attention.  One  may  well  remember—  trite  as it  seems—that,  of the  uncompleted  beings,  man is the  only  one to treat not only his actions but his very self as the  object of his  reflection;  this  capacity  distinguishes  him  from  the  animals,  which  are  unable  to  separate  themselves  from  their  activity  and  thus  are  unable  to  reflect  upon  it.  In  this  apparently  superficial  distinction  lie the boundaries  which delimit  the action of each in his life  space.  Because  the  animals' activity  is  an  extension  of themselves,  the  re­ sults  of  that  activity  are  also  inseparable  from  themselves:  animals  can  neither  set  objectives  nor infuse  their  transformation  of nature  with any significance  beyond itself.  Moreover,  the "decision" to per­ form  this activity  belongs  not  to them  but to their  species.  Animals  are,  accordingly,  fundamentally  "beings  in  themselves."  9 8 ' P A U L O  F R E I R E  Unable to decide for themselves, unable to objectify either them- selves or their activity, lacking objectives which they themselves have set, living "submerged" in a world to which they can give no meaning, lacking a "tomorrow" and a "today" because they exist in an overwhelming present, animals are ahistorical. Their ahistorical life does not occur in the "world," taken in its strict meaning; for the animal, the world does not constitute a "not-I" which could set him apart as an "I." The human world, which is historical, serves as a mere prop for the "being in itself." Animals are not challenged by the configuration which confronts them; they are merely stimulated. Their life is not one of risk-taking, for they are not aware of taking risks. Risks are not challenges perceived upon reflection, but merely "noted" by the signs which indicate them; they accordingly do not require decision-making responses. Consequently, animals cannot commit themselves. Their ahis- torical condition does not permit them to "take on" life. Because they do not "take it on," they cannot construct it; and if they do not construct it, they cannot transform its configuration. Nor can they know themselves to be destroyed by life, for they cannot expand their "prop" world into a meaningful, symbolic world which includes culture and history. As a result, animals do not "animalize" their configuration in order to animalize themselves—nor do they "de- animalize" themselves. Even in the forest, they remain "beings-in- themselves," as animal-like there as in the zoo. In contrast, the people—aware of their activity and the world in which they are situated, acting in function of the objectives which they propose, having the seat of their decisions located in themselves and in their relations with the world and with others, infusing the world with their creative presence by means of the transformation they effect upon it—unlike animals, not only live but exist;14 and their existence is historical. Animals live out their lives on an atemp- oral, flat, uniform "prop"; humans exist in a world which they are 14.  In  the  English  language,  the  terms "live" and "exist" have assumed  implica­ tions  opposite  to their  etymological  origins.  As used  here,  "live" is  the  more  basic  term,  implying  only  survival;  "exist" implies  a deeper  involvement  in  the  process  of "becoming."  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  ­ 9 9  constantly re­creating and transforming.  For animals, "here" is only  a  habitat  with  which  they  enter  into  contact;  for  people,  "here"  signifies  not  merely  a physical  space,  but  also an historical  space.  Strictly speaking, "here," "now," "there," "tomorrow," and "yester­ day" do  not  exist  for  the  animal,  whose  life,  lacking  self­conscious­ ness,  is  totally  determined.  Animals  cannot  surmount  the  limits  imposed  by  the  "here," the  "now," or the "there."  Humans,  however, because they are aware of themselves and thus  of the world—because  they are conscious beings—exist  in a dialecti­ cal  relationship  between  the  determination  of limits  and  their own  freedom.  As  they  separate  themselves  from  the  world,  which  they  objectify,  as they separate themselves from their own activity, as they  locate the seat of their decisions  in themselves and in their relations  with  the  world  and  others,  people  overcome  the  situations  which  limit  them:  the  "limit­situations."15  Once  perceived  by  individuals  as fetters,  as obstacles  to their liberation,  these  situations  stand out  in relief from the background, revealing their true nature as concrete  historical  dimensions  of a given  reality.  Men and women  respond to  the challenge with actions which Vieira Pinto calls "limit­acts": those  directed  at  negating  and  overcoming,  rather  than  passively  ac­ cepting,  the "given,"  Thus,  it  is  not  the  limit­situations  in  and  of  themselves  which  create a climate  of hopelessness,  but  rather how they are  perceived  by  women  and  men  at  a  given  historical  moment:  whether  they  appear as fetters  or as insurmountable  barriers.  As critical  percep­ tion is embodied  in action,  a climate  of hope  and confidence  devel­ ops  which  leads  men  to  attempt  to  overcome  the  limit­situations.  This  objective  can  be  achieved  only  through  action  upon  the  con­ 15.  Professor  Alvaro  Vieira  Pinto  analyzes  with  clarity  the  problem  of  "limit­ situations, w  using  the  concept  without  the  pessimistic  aspect  originally  found  in  Jaspers.  For Vieira Pinto,  the "limit­situations" are not "the impassable  boundaries  where possibilities  end,  but the real boundaries where all possibilities begin**; they  are  not  "the  frontier  which  separates  being  from  nothingness,  but  the  frontier  which  separates  being  from  nothingness  but  the  frontier  which  separates  being  from being  more." Alvaro Vieira  Pinto, Consciencia e Realidade Nacional  (Rio  de  Janeiro,  1960),  Vol.  II,  p. 284.  100­PAULO  FREIRE  crete, historical reality in which limit-situations historically are found. As reality is transformed and these situations are superseded, new ones will appear, which in turn will evoke new limit-acts. The prop world of animals contains no limit-situations, due to its ahistorical character. Similarly, animals lack the ability to exercise limit-acts, which require a decisive attitude towards the world: sepa- ration from and objectification of the world in order to transform it, Organically bound to their prop, animals do not distinguish between themselves and the world. Accordingly, animals are not limited by limit-situations—which are historical—but rather by the entire prop. And the appropriate role for animals is not to relate to their prop (in that event, the prop would be a world), but to adapt to it. Thus, when animals "produce" a nest, a hive, or a burrow, they are not creating products which result from "limit-acts," that is, transforming responses. Their productive activity is subordinated to the satisfaction of a physical necessity which is simply stimulating, rather than challenging. "An animal's product belongs immediately to its physical body, whilst man freely confronts his product."16 Only products which result from the activity of a being but do not belong to its physical body (though these products may bear its seal), can give a dimension of meaning to the context, which thus becomes a world. A being capable of such production (who thereby is necessarily aware of himself, is a "being for himself") could no longer be if she or he were not in the process of being in the world with which he or she relates; just as the world would no longer exist if this being did not exist. The difference between animals—who (because their activity does not constitute limit-acts) cannot create products detached from themselves—and humankind—who through their action upon the world create the realm of culture and history—is that only the latter are beings of the praxis. Only human beings are praxis—the praxis which, as the reflection and action which truly transform reality, is 16.  Karl  Marx, Economic and Philosophical Manuscripts of 1844,  Dirk  Struik,  e d  (New  York,  1964),  p.  113.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  101  the  source of knowledge  and creation.  Animal activity,  which occurs  without  a praxis,  is  not creative; peoples  transforming  activity is.  It  is  as  transforming  and  creative  beings  that  humans,  in  their  permanent  relations with reality,  produce not only material goods—  tangible  objects—but  also  social  institutions,  ideas,  and  concepts.17  Through  their  continuing  praxis,  men  and  women  simultaneously  create history and become historical­social beings.  Because—in con­ trast  to  animals—people  can  tri­dimensionalize  time  into  the  past,  the  present,  and  the  future,  their  history,  in  function  of their  own  creations,  develops  as  a  constant  process  of  transformation  within  which  epochal  units materialize.  These  epochal  units are not closed  periods  of time,  static  compartments  within  which  people  are con­ fined.  Were  this  the  case,  a  fundamental  condition  of  history—its  continuity—would  disappear.  On  the  contrary,  epochal  units  inter­ relate  in  the  dynamics  of historical  continuity.18  An epoch is characterized by a complex of ideas, concepts,  hopes,  doubts,  values,  and  challenges  in  dialectical  interaction  with  their  opposites,  striving  towards  plenitude.  The  concrete  representation  of many  of these  ideas,  values,  concepts,  and  hopes,  as well  as  the  obstacles  which  impede  the  people's  full  humanization,  constitute  the  themes  of  that  epoch.  These  themes  imply  others  which  are  opposing  or even  antithetical;  they  also  indicate  tasks to be  carried  out  and  fulfilled.  Thus,  historical  themes  are  never  isolated,  inde­ pendent,  disconnected,  or static; they are always interacting dialecti­ cally with their opposites.  Nor can these themes be found anywhere  except  in the human­world  relationship.  The complex of interacting  themes  of an epoch  constitutes  its "thematic  universe."  Confronted  by  this  "universe  of themes" in dialectical  contradic­ tion,  persons  take  equally  contradictory  positions:  some  work  to  maintain  the  structures,  others  to  change  them.  As  antagonism  deepens  between  themes  which  are  the  expression  of reality,  there  17.  Regarding  this  point,  see  Karel  Kosik, DiaUtica de lo Concreto  (Mexico,  1967).  18.  On  the  question  of historical  epochs,  see  Hans  Freyer, Teoria de la tpoca atual  (Mexico).  1 0 2 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  is a tendency  for  the  themes  and for reality  itself to be  mythicized,  establishing  a climate  of irrationality  and sectarianism.  This  climate  threatens  to  drain  the  themes  of  their  deeper  significance  and  to  deprive  them  of  their  characteristically  dynamic  aspect.  In  such  a  situation,  myth­creating  irrationality  itself  becomes  a  fundamental  theme.  Its  opposing  theme,  the  critical  and  dynamic  view  of  the  world,  strives to unveil reality, unmask its mythicization,  and achieve  a  full  realization  of  the  human  task:  the  permanent  transformation  of reality  in  favor of the  liberation  of people.  In  the  last  analysis,  the themes19  both  contain  and are  contained  in limit-situations;  the tasks they imply require limit-acts.  When  the  themes are concealed by the limit­situations and thus are not clearly  perceived,  the  corresponding  tasks—people s responses  in the form  of historical  action—can  be  neither  authentically  nor critically  ful­ filled.  In  this  situation,  humans  are  unable  to  transcend  the  limit­ situations to discover that beyond these situations—and in contradic­ tion  to  them—lies  an untested feasibility. In  sum,  limit­situations  imply  the  existence  of  persons  who  are  directly  or  indirectly  served  by  these  situations,, and  of  those  who  are negated  and curbed by  them.  Once  the  latter come  to perceive  these  situations  as  the  frontier  between  being  and  being  more  hu­ man,  rather than  the  frontier  between  being  and nothingness,  they  begin  to  direct  their  increasingly  critical  actions  towards  achieving  the  untested  feasibility  implicit  in  that  perception.  On  the  other  hand,  those  who  are  served  by  the  present  limit­situation  regard  the  untested  feasibility  as  a threatening  limit­situation  which  must  not  be  allowed  to  materialize,  and  act  to  maintain  the  status  quo.  Consequently,  liberating actions upon an historical  milieu must cor­ respond  not  only  to  the  generative  themes  but  to the Way in which  these  themes  are  perceived.  This  requirement  in  turn  implies  an­ other:  the  investigation  of meaningful  thematics.  19.  I have termed  these  themes "generative" because (however they are compre­ hended  and  whatever  action  they  may  evoke)  they  contain  the  possibility  of  un­ folding  into  again  as  many  themes,  which  in  their  turn  call  for  new  tasks  to  be  fulfilled.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  •  103  Generative  themes  can  be  located  in  concentric  circles,  moving  from the general to the particular. The broadest epochal unit,  which  includes a diversified  range of units and sub­units—continental,  re­ gional,  national, and so forth—contains  themes of a universal charac­ ter.  I  consider  the  fundamental  theme  of  our  epoch  to  be  that  of  domination—which  implies  its opposite,  the  theme  of liberation,  as  the objective to be achieved.  It is this tormenting theme which gives  our epoch the anthropological character mentioned earlier.  In order  to achieve  humanization,  which  presupposes  the  elimination  of de­ humanizing  oppression,  it  is  absolutely  necessary  to  surmount  the  limit­situations  in which  people  are reduced  to things.  Within  the  smaller  circles,  we  find  themes  and  limit­situations  characteristic  of  societies  (on  the  same  continent  or  on  different  continents) Avhich through  these  themes  and  limit­situations  share  historical  similarities.  For example,  underdevelopment,  which  can­ not be understood apart from the relationship of dependency,  repre­ sents a limit­situation  characteristic  of societies  of the Third World.  The task implied by this limit­situation is to overcome the contradic­ tory relation of these "objects­societies to the metropolitan societies;  this  task constitutes  the  untested  feasibility  for the Third  World  Any  given  society  within  the  broader  epochal  unit  contains,  in  addition to the universal,  continental,  or historically similar themes,  its  own  particular  themes,  its  own  limit­situations.  Within  yet  smaller  circles,  thematic  diversifications  can  be  found  within  the  same  society,  divided  into  areas  and  sub­areas,  all  of which  are  re­ lated  to the  societal whole.  These  constitute  epochal  sub­units.  For  example,  within  the  same  national  unit  one  can find the  contradic­ tion  of the  "coexistence  of the  non­contemporaneous."  Within  these  sub­units,  national  themes  may or may not be  per­ ceived  in  their  true  significance.  They  may  simply  be felt—  sometimes not even that.  But the nonexistence of themes within the  sub­units  is  absolutely  impossible.  The  fact  that  individuals  in  a  certain  area do not perceive  a generative  theme,  or perceive  it  in a  distorted  way,  may  only  reveal  a  limit­situation  of  oppression  in  which  people  are  still  submerged.  1 0 4 ­ P A U L O  F R E I R E  In general, a dominated consciousness which has not yet per- ceived a limit-situation in its totality apprehends only its epiphe- nomena and transfers to the latter the inhibiting force which is the property of the limit-situation.20 This fact is of great importance for the investigation of generative themes. When people lack a critical understanding of their reality, apprehending it in fragments which they do not perceive as interacting constituent elements of the whole, they cannot truly know that reality. To truly know it, they would have to reverse their starting point: they would need to have a total vision of the context in order subsequently to separate and isolate its constituent elements and by means of this analysis achieve a clearer perception of the whole. Equally appropriate for the methodology of thematic investigation and for problem-posing education is this effort to present significant dimensions of an individual's contextual reality, the analysis of which will make it possible for him to recognize the interaction of the various components. Meanwhile, the significant dimensions, which in their turn are constituted of parts in interaction, should be per- ceived as dimensions of total reality. In this way, k critical analysis of a significant existential dimension makes possible a new, critical attitude towards the limit-situations. The perception and compre- hension of reality are rectified and acquire new depth. When carried out with a methodology of conscientizagdo the investigation of the generative theme contained in the minimum thematic universe (the generative themes in interaction) thus introduces or begins to intro- duce women and men to a critical form of thinking about their world. 20.  Individuals  of  the  middle  class  often  demonstrate  this  type  of behavior,  al­ though  in  a different  way  from  the  peasant.  Their  fear  of freedom  leads  them  to  erect  defense  mechanisms  and  rationalizations  which  conceal  the  fundamental,  emphasize the fortuitous,  and deny concrete reality.  In the face of a problem  whose  analysis would  lead  to the  uncomfortable  perception  of a limit­situation,  their ten­ dency  is  to  remain  on  the  periphery  of  the  discussion  and  resist  any  attempt  to  reach  the  heart  of the  question.  They  are even  annoyed when  someone  points out  a  fundamental  proposition  which  explains  the  fortuitous  or  secondary  matters  to  which  they  had  been  assigning primary  importance.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 105  In  the  events  however,  that  human  beings  perceive  reality  as  dense, impenetrable, and enveloping,  it is indispensable to proceed  with  the  investigation  by  means of abstraction.  This  method does  not involve reducing the concrete to the abstract (which would sig­ nify  the  negation  of its  dialectical  nature),  but  rather  maintaining  both elements as opposites which interrelate dialectically in the act  of  reflection.  This  dialectical  movement  of thought  is  exemplified  perfectly in the analysis of a concrete existential, "coded" situation.21  Its "decoding" requires  moving from  the  abstract  to the concrete;  this requires moving from the part to the whole and then returning  to the parts; this in turn requires that the Subject recognize himself  in the object (the coded concrete existential situation) and recognize  the  object  as a situation  in  which  he finds himself,  together with  other Subjects.  If the decoding is well done,  this movement of  flux  and  reflux  from  the  abstrct  to  the  concrete  which  occurs  in  the  analysis of a coded situation leads to the supersedence of the abstrac­ tion by  the  critical  perception  of the  concrete,  which  has already  ceased to be a dense,  impenetrable reality.  When an individual is presented with a coded existential situation  (a sketch or photograph which leads by abstraction to the concrete­ ness of existential reality), his tendency is to "split" that coded situ­ ation. In the process of decoding, this separation corresponds to the  stage  we  call  the  "description  of the  situation," and facilitates  the  discovery of the interaction among the parts of the disjoined whole.  This whole  (the  coded  situation),  which  previously  had been  only  diffusely  apprehended,  begins to acquire meaning as thought  flows  back to it from the various dimensions.  Since,  however,  the coding  is  the  representation  of an existential  situation,  the  decoder tends  to take the step from the representation  to the very concrete situ­ ation in which and with which she finds herself.  It is thus possible  to explain conceptually why individuals begin to behave  differently  with regard to objective reality, once that reality has ceased to look  21.  The  coding  of an existential  situation  is  the  representation  of that situation,  showing  some  of  its  constituent  elements  in  interaction.  Decoding  is  the  critical  analysis of the  coded  situation.  106-PAULO FREIRE like a blind alley and has taken on its true aspect: a challenge which human beings must meet. In all the stages of decoding, people exteriorize their view of the world. And in the way they think about ancb face the world— fatalistically, dynamically, or statically—their generative themes may be found. A group which does not concretely express a generative thematics—a fact which might appear to imply the nonexistence of themes—is, on the contrary, suggesting a very dramatic theme: the theme of silence. The theme of silence suggests a structure of mut- ism in face of the overwhelming force of the limit-situations. I must re-emphasize that the generative theme cannot be found in people, divorced from reality; nor yet in reality, divorced from people; much less in "no man's land." It can only be apprehended in the human-world relationship. To investigate the generative theme is to investigate peoples thinking about reality and peoples action upon reality, which is their praxis. For precisely this reason, the methodology proposed requires that the investigators and the people (who would normally be considered objects of that investiga- tion) should act as co-investigators. The more active an attitude men and women take in regard to the exploration of their thematics, the more they deepen their critical awareness of reality and, in spelling out those thematics, take possession of that reality. Some may think it inadvisable to include the people as investiga- tors in the search for their own meaningful thematics: that their intrusive influence (n.b., the "intrusion" of those who are most inter- ested—or ought to be—in their own education) will "adulterate" the findings and thereby sacrifice the objectivity of the investigation. This view mistakenly presupposes that themes exist, in their original objective purity, outside people—as if themes were things. Actually, themes exist in people in their relations with the world, with refer- ence to concrete facts. The same objective fact could evoke different complexes of generative themes in different epochal sub-units. There is, therefore, a relation between the given objective fact, the perception women and men have of this fact, and the generative themes. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  107  A meaningful  thematics is expressed by people,  and a given mo­ ment of expression will differ from an earlier moment,  if they have  changed their perception of the objective facts to which the themes  refer.  From the investigator s point of view, the important thing is  to detect the starting point at which the people visualize the "given"  and  to  verify  whether  or  not  during  the  process  of  investigation  any transformation  has occurred in their way of perceiving reality.  (Objective  reality,  of course,  remains unchanged  If the perception  of that  reality  changes  in  the  course  of the  investigation,  that fact  does not impair the validity of the investigation.)  We must realize that the aspirations, the motives, and the objec­ tives  implicit  in  the  meaningful  thematics  are human  aspirations,  motives,  and objectives.  They do not exist "out there" somewhere,  as static entities; they are occurring. They are as historical as human  beings themselves; consequently, they cannot be apprehended apart  from them. To apprehend these themes and to understand them is  to understand  both  the  people who embody  them  and the reality  to  which  they  refer.  But—precisely  because  it  is  not  possible  to  understand  these  themes  apart from  people—it  is  necessary  that  those  concerned  understand  them  as well.  Thematic  investigation  thus becomes  a common  striving towards awareness of reality and  towards  self­awareness,  which  makes  this  investigation  a  starting  point for the educational process or for cultural action of a liberating  character.  The  real  danger  of  the  investigation  is  not  that  the  supposed  objects of the investigation, discovering themselves to be co­investi­ gators,  might  "adulterate" the  analytical  results.  On  the  contrary,  the danger lies in the risk of shifting  the focus of the  investigation  from  the  meaningful  themes  to  the  people  themselves,  thereby  treating the people as objects of the investigation.  Since this investi­ gation is to serve as a basis for developing an educational program  in which teacher­student and students­teachers combine their cog­ nitions of the same object,  the investigation itself must likewise be  based on reciprocity of action.  Thematic investigation, which occurs in the realm of the human,  108­PAULO  FREIRE  cannot  be  reduced  to  a  mechanical  act.  As  a process  of  search,  of  knowledge,  and  thus  of  creation,  it  requires  the  investigators  to  discover the interpenetration of problems, in th^linking of meaning­ ful  themes.  The  investigation  will  be  most  educational  when  it  is  most  critical,  and  most  critical  when  it  avoids  the  narrow  outlines  of partial or "focalized" views of reality, and sticks to the comprehen­ sion of total  reality. Thus, the process of searching for the  meaningful  thematics  should  include  a concern  for  the  links  between  themes,  a concern to pose these  themes as problems,  and a concern for their  historical­cultural  context.  Just  as  the  educator  may  not  elaborate  a  program  to  present to the  people,  neither  may  the  investigator  elaborate  "itineraries" for  researching  the  thematic  universe,  starting  from  points  which he has  predetermined.  Both  education  and  the  investigation  designed  to  support  it  must  be  "sympathetic" activities,  in  the  etymological  sense  of the word.  That  is,  they must consist of communication  and  of the  common  experience  of a reality  perceived  in  the  complexity  of its constant  "becoming."  The  investigator  who,  in  the  name  of scientific  objectivity,  trans­ forms  the  organic  into  something  inorganic,  what  is becoming  into  what is, life into death,  is a person who fears change.  He or she  sees  in change  (which  is not denied,  but  neither  is it desired)  not a sign  of life,  but  a sign  of death  and decay.  He  or she  does want to  study  change—but  in order to stop it, not in order to stimulate or deepen  it.  However,  in  seeing  change  as  a  sign  of  death  and  in  making  people  the passive objects of investigation  in order to arrive at rigid  models,  one  betrays  their  own character  as a killer of life.  I  repeat:  the  investigation  of thematics  involves  the  investigation  of the  people's  thinking—thinking  which  occurs only  in and among  people  together  seeking  out  reality.  I  cannot  think for others  or  without others,  nor  can  others  think for me.  Even  if  the  people's  thinking  is  superstitious  or  naive,  it  is  only  as  they  rethink  their  assumptions  in  action  that  they  can  change.  Producing  and  acting  upon their own ideas—not consuming those of others—must  consti­ tute  that process.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  109  People, as beings "in a situation," find themselves rooted in tem­ poral­spatial conditions which mark them and which they also mark.  They will tend to reflect  on their own "situatipnality" to the extent  that  they  are  challenged  by  it  to  act  upon  it.  Human  beings are because  they are in a situation.  And they will be more the  more  they not only critically reflect upon their existence but critically act  upon it.  Reflection  upon situationality  is reflection  about the very condi­ tion of existence: critical thinking by means of which people discover  each  other  to  be  "in a situation." Only as this  situation  ceases  to  present  itself as a dense,  enveloping  reality or a tormenting blind  alley, and they can come to perceive  it as an objective­problematic  situation—only  then  can  commitment  exist.  Humankind emerge from  their submersion and acquire the ability to intervene in reality  as  it  is  unveiled. Intervention in  reality—historical  awareness  it­ self—thus  represents  a step  forward  from emergence,  and  results  from the cdnscientizagao  of  the  situation. Conscientizagao  is  the  deepening  of the  attitude  of awareness  characteristic  of all  emer­ gence.  Every thematic investigation which deepens historical awareness  is thus really educational, while all authentic education investigates  thinking.  The  more educators and the people  investigate  the peo­ ple s thinking, and are thus jointly educated, the more they continue  to  investigate.  Education  and  thematic  investigation,  in  the prob­ lem­posing  concept  of education,  are simply  different  moments of  the same process.  In  contrast  with  the  antidialogical  and  non­communicative  "de­ posits" of the banking method of education, the program content of  the  problem­posing  method—dialogical  par excellence—is  consti­ tuted and organized by the students' view of the world, where their  own generative  themes are found.  The content thus constantly ex­ pands  and  renews  itself.  The  task  of  the  dialogical  teacher  in an  interdisciplinary  team  working  on  the  thematic  universe  revealed  by their investigation  is to "re­present" that universe to the people  from whom she or he first received it—and "re­present" it not as a  lecture,  but as a problem.  1 1 0 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  Let  us  say,  for  example,  that  a  group  has  the  responsibility  of  coordinating a plan for adult education  in a peasant area with a high  percentage  of illiteracy.  The  plan  includes  literacy  campaign  and  a post­literacy phase.  During the former stage, problem­posing edu­ cation  seeks out and investigates  the "generative word"; in the post­ literacy  stage,  it  seeks  out  and  investigates  the  "generative  theme."  Let  us  here,  however,  consider  only  the  investigation  of the  gen­ erative themes or the meaningful  thematics.22 Once the investigators  have determined  the area in which they will work and have acquired  a  preliminary  acquaintance  with  the  area  through  secondary  sources,  they  initiate  the first stage of the  investigation.  This begin­ ning  (like  any beginning  in  any  human  activity)  involves  difficulties  and risks which  are to a certain  point  normal,  although  they are not  always  evident  in  the first contact  with  the  individuals  of the  area.  In this first contact,  the  investigators  need  to get a significant  num­ ber  of  persons  to  agree  to  an  informal  meeting  during  which  they  can  talk  about  the  objectives  of  their  presence  in  the  area.  In  this  meeting  they  explain  the  reason  for  the  investigation,  how  it  is  to  be  carried  out,  and  to what  use  it will  be  put; they  further  explain  that the investigation will be impossible without a relation of mutual  understanding and trust.  If the participants agree both to the inves­ tigation  and  to  the  subsequent  process,23  the  investigators  should  call  for  volunteers  among  the  participants  to  serve  as  assistants.  These  volunteers  will  gather  a  series  of  necessary  data  about  the  life  of the  area.  Of  even  greater  importance,  however,  is  the  active  presence  of these  volunteers  in  the  investigation.  Meanwhile,  the  investigators  begin  their  own  visits  to  the  area,  never forcing  themselves,  but  acting as  sympathetic  observers  with  an  attitude  of understanding  towards  what  they  see.  While  it  is  normal for investigators  to come  to the area with values which  influ­ 22.  Regarding the  investigation  and use of "generative words," see  my Educagdo como Prdtica da Liberdade. 23.  According to the  Brazilian sociologist  Maria Edy Ferreira (in an unpublished  work),  thematic  investigation  is  only  justified  to  the  extent  that  it  returns  to  the  people  what  truly  belongs  to them; to the extent that it represents,  not an attempt  to  learn  about  the  people,  but  to come  to know with  them  the  reality  which  chal­ lenges  them.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  111  ence  their perceptions,  this does not mean  that they may transform  the  thematic  investigation  into  a  means  of  imposing  these  values.  The  only  dimension  of  these  values  which  it  is  hoped  the  people  whose  thematics  are  being  investigated  will  come  to  share  (it  is  presumed  that  the  investigators  possess  this  quality)  is  a  critical  perception  of  the  world,  which  implies  a  correct  method  of  ap­ proaching reality in order to unveil it. And critical perception cannot  be  imposed.  Thus,  from  the very beginning,  thematic  investigation  is  expressed  as an educational  pursuit,  as cultural  action.  During  their  visits,  the  investigators  set  their  critical  "aim" on  the  area  under  study,  as  if  it  were  for  them  an  enormous,  unique,  living  "code" to  be  deciphered.  They  regard  the  area  as  a totality,  and  visit  upon  visit  attempt  to  "split"  it  by  analyzing  the  partial  dimensions which  impress  them.  Through  this process  they expand  their  understanding  of  how  the  various  parts  interact,  which  will  later help  them  penetrate  the  totality  itself.  During this decoding stage,  the investigators observe certain mo- ments  of  the  life  of  the  area—sometimes  directly,  sometimes  by  means of informal  conversations  with  the  inhabitants.  They  register  everything  in  their  notebooks,  including  apparently  unimportant  items:  the  way  the  people  talk,  their  style  of life,  their  behavior  at  church  and  at  work.  They  record  the  idiom  of  the  people:  their  expressions,  their  vocabulary,  and  their  syntax  (not  their  incorrect  pronunciation,  but  rather  the  way they construct  their  thought).24  It is essential that the investigators observe the area under varying  circumstances:  labor  in  the  fields,  meetings  of  a  local  association  (noting the behavior of the participants,  the  language  used,  and the  24.  The  Brazilian  novelist  Guimaraes  Rosa is a brilliant  example of how a writer  can capture authentically,  not  the  pronunciation  or the  grammatical  corruptions  of  the  people,  but  their  syntax: the  very  structure  of their thought.  Indeed  (and  this  is  not  to  disparage  his  exceptional  value  as  a  writer),  Guimaraes  Rosa  was  the  investigator  par excellence  of the  "meaningful  thematics" of the  inhabitants  of the  Brazilian hinterland.  Professor  Paulo de Tarso is currently preparing an essay which  analyzes  this little­considered  aspect of the work of the author of Grande Sertdo—  Veredas  [in  English  translation: The Devil to Pay in the Backlands  (New  York,  1963)].  112-PAULO FREIRE relations between the officers and the members), the role played by women and by young people, leisure hour§, games and sports, conversations with people in their homes (noting examples of hus- band-wife and parent-child relationships). No activity must escape the attention of the investigators during the initial survey of the area. After each observation visit, the investigator should draw up a brief report to be discussed by the entire team, in order to eval- uate the preliminary findings of both the professional investigators and the local assistants. To facilitate the participation of the assist- ants, the evaluation meetings should be held in the area itself. The evaluation meetings represent a second stage in the decoding of the unique living code. As each person, in his decoding essay, relates how he perceived or felt a certain occurrence or situation, his exposition challenges all the other decoders by re-presenting to them the same reality upon which they have themselves been intent. At this moment they "re-consider," through the "considerations" of others, their own previous "consideration." Thus the analysis of real- ity made by each individual decoder sends them all back, dialogi- cally, to the disjoined whole which once more becomes a totality evoking a new analysis by the investigators, following which a new evaluative and critical meeting will be held. Representatives of the inhabitants participate in all activities as members of the investigat- ing team. The more the group divide and reintegrate the whole, the more closely they approach the nuclei of the principal and secondary contradictions which involve the inhabitants of the area. By locating these nuclei of contradictions, the investigators might even at this stage be able to organize the program content of their educational action. Indeed, if the content reflected these contradictions, it would undoubtedly contain the meaningful thematics of the area. And one can safely affirm that action based on these observations would be much more likely to succeed than that based on "decisions from the top." The investigators should not, however, be tempted by this possibility. The basic thing, starting from the initial perception of PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 113  these nuclei of contradictions (which include the principal contradic­ tion  of  society  as  a larger  epochal  unit)  is  to  study  the  inhabitants'  level  of awareness  of these  contradictions.  Intrinsically,  these  contradictions  constitute  limit­situations,  in­ volve themes,  and indicate tasks.  If individuals are caught up in and  are  unable  to separate  themselves  from  these  limit­situations,  their  theme  in  reference  to  these  situations  is fatalism,  and  the  task im­ plied  by  the  theme  is the lack of a task.  Thus,  although  the  limit­ situations  are  objective  realities  which  call  forth  needs  in  individ­ uals,  one must investigate with these individuals their level of aware­ ness  of these  situations.  A limit­situation  as a concrete  reality  can  call  forth  from  persons  in  different  areas  (and  even  in  sub­areas  of  the  same  area)  quite  opposite  themes  and tasks. Thus,  the basic concern  of the investiga­ tors  should  be  to  concentrate  on  the  knowledge  of what  Goldman  calls  "real  consciousness" and  the  "potential  consciousness."  Real consciousness  [is] the  result of the  multiple obstacles and  deviations that the different  factors of empirical  reality put into  opposition  and  submit  for  realization  by  [the]  potential  con­ sciousness.25  Real consciousness implies the impossibility of perceiving the "un­ tested  feasibility"  which  lies  beyond  the  limit­situations.  But  whereas  the  untested  feasibility  cannot  be  achieved  at  the  level  of  "real [or present] consciousness," it can be realized through "testing  action"  which  reveals  its  hitherto  unperceived  viability.  The  un­ tested  feasibility  and  real  consciousness  are  related,  as  are  testing  action  and potential  consciousness.  Goldman's concept  of "potential  consciousness" is similar to what Nicolai terms "unperceived pratica­ ble  solutions"26 (our "untested feasibility"),  in contrast to "perceived  practicable  solutions"  and  "presently  practiced  solutions,"  which  25.  Lucien  Goldman, The Human Sciences and Philosophy  (London,  1969),  p.  118.  26.  See Andre  Nicolai, Comportment Economique et Structures Sociales (Paris,  1960).  1 1 4 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  correspond  to Goldman's "real consciousness." Accordingly,  the fact  that  the  investigators  may  in  the first stage  of tjje  investigation  ap­ proximately  apprehend  the  complex  of contradictions  does  not  au­ thorize  them  to  begin  to  structure  the  program  content  of  educational  action.  This  perception  of reality  is  still  their  own,  not  that  of the  people.  It  is with  the  apprehension  of the  complex  of contradictions  that  the  second  stage  of  the  investigation  begins.  Always  acting  as  a  team,  the  investigators  will  select  some  of  these  contradictions  to  develop  the  codifications  to  be  used  in  the  thematic  investigation.  Since  the  codifications  (sketches  or  photographs)27  are  the objects which  mediate  the  decoders  in  their  critical  analysis,  the  prepara­ tion of these codifications  must be guided by certain principles other  than  the  usual  ones  for making  visual aids.  The first requirement  is that these  codifications  must  necessarily  represent  situations  familiar  to the  individuals  whose  thematics  are  being examined,  so that they can easily recognize the situations (and  thus  their own  relation  to them).  It is inadmissible  (whether  during  the process of investigation or in the following stage, when the mean­ ingful  thematics  are  presented  as program  content)  to  present  pic­ tures  of reality  unfamiliar  to  the  participants.  The  latter  procedure  (although dialectical,  because  individuals analyzing an unfamiliar re­ ality could compare  it with  their own and discover the limitations of  each)  cannot  precede  the  more  basic  one  dictated  by  the  partici­ pants' state  of submersion,  that  is,  the  process  in which  individuals  analyzing  their  own  reality  become  aware  of  their  prior,  distorted  perceptions  and  thereby  come  to  have  a  new  perception  of  that  reality.  An  equally  fundamental  requirement  for  the  preparation  of  the  codifications  is that their thematic nucleus be neither overly explicit  nor overly  enigmatic.  The  former  may degenerate  into mere propa­ 27.  The  codifications  may  also  be  oral.  In  this  case  they  consist  of a few  words  presenting an existential  problem,  followed  by decoding.  The  team of the Instituto de Desarrollo Agropecuario  (Institute for Agrarian  Development) in Chile has used  this  method  successfully  in  thematic  investigations.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 115  ganda,  with  no  real  decoding  to  be  done  beyond  stating  the  obvi­ ously predetermined  content.  The  latter runs the  risk of appearing  to be  a puzzle  or a guessing  game.  Since  they  represent  existential  situations,  the  codifications  should  be  simple  in  their  complexity  and offer  various  decoding  possibilities  in order to avoid the brain­ washing  tendencies  of  propaganda.  Codifications  are  not  slogans;  they  are  cognizable  objects,  challenges  towards  which  the  critical  reflection  of the  decoders  should be  directed.  In  order  to  offer  various  possibilities  of analysis  in  the  decoding  process,  the  codifications  should  be  organized  as  a "thematic  fan."  As the decoders reflect  on the codifications,  the codifications  should  open  up  in  the  direction  of other  themes.  This  opening  up  (which  does  not  occur  if the  thematic  content  is  either  too  explicit  or  too  enigmatic)  is indispensable  to the  perception  of the dialectical  rela­ tions  which  exist  between  the  themes  and  their  opposites.  Accord­ ingly,  the  codifications  reflecting  an  existential  situation  must  objectively  constitute  a  totality.  Its  elements  must  interact  in  the  makeup of the  whole.  In the process of decoding,  the participants externalize  their the­ matics  and  thereby  make  explicit  their  "real  consciousness"  of  the  world.  As they do this,  they begin  to see how they themselves  acted  while  actually  experiencing  the  situation  they  are  now  analyzing,  and  thus  reach  a  "perception  of  their  previous  perception."  By  achieving  this  awareness,  they  come  to perceive  reality  differently;  by  broadening  the  horizon  of their  perception,  they  discover  more  easily  in  their  "background  awareness" the  dialectical  relations  be­ tween  the  two dimensions  of reality.  By  stimulating  "perception  of  the  previous  perception"  and  "knowledge  of  the  previous  knowledge,"  decoding  stimulates  the  appearance  of a new perception  and the development  of new know­ ledge. The new perception and knowledge are systematically contin­ ued with the inauguration of the educational plan, which  transforms  the untested feasibility into testing action, as potential consciousness  supersedes  real  consciousness.  Preparing  the  codifications  further  requires  that  insofar as possi­ 1 1 6 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  ble they should represent contradictions "incisive" of others which constitute the system of contradictions of the #rea under study 28 As each of these "inclusive" codifications is prepared, the other contra- dictions "contained" therein should also be codified. The decoding of the former will be dialectically clarified by the decoding of the latter. In this connection, a very valuable contribution to our method has been made by Gabriel Bode, a young Chilean civil servant in one of the most significant Chilean governmental institutions: the Instituto de Desarrollo Agropecuario (INDAP).29 During his use of this method in the post-literacy stage, Bode observed that the peas- ants became interested in the discussion only when the codification related directly to their felt needs. Any deviation in the codification, as well as any attempt by the educator to guide the decoding discus- sion into other areas, produced silence and indifference. On the other hand, he observed that even when the codification30 centered on their felt needs the peasants could not manage to concentrate systematically on the discussion, which often digressed to the point of never reaching a synthesis. Also, they almost never perceived the relationship of their felt needs to the direct and indirect causes of these needs. One might say that they failed to perceive the untested feasibility lying beyond the limit-situations which engendered their needs. Bode then decided to experiment with the simultaneous projec- tion of different situations; in this technique lies the value of his contribution. Initially, he projects a very simple codification of an existential situation. He terms his first codification "essential"; it represents the basic nucleus and opens up into a thematic fan ex- tending to "auxiliary" codifications. After the essential codification is decoded, the educator maintains its projected image as a reference 28.  This  recommendation  is made by Jos£  Luis  Fiori,  in an unpublished  manu­ script.  29.  Until  recently,  IN DAP was directed by the economist and authentic human­ ist Jacques  Chonchol.  30.  These  codifications  were  not  "inclusive," in  Fiori's  definition.  PEDAGOGY  OF.  THE  OPPRESSED  • 117  for  the participants and successively projects alongside it the auxil­ iary codifications.  By means of the latter, which are directly related  to  the  essential  codification,  he  sustains  the  vivid  interest  of the  participants,  who are thereby enabled to reach a synthesis.  The great achievement of Gabriel  Bode is that, by means of the  dialectics  between  the  essential  and the auxiliary codifications,  he  has managed to communicate to the participants a sense of totality. Individuals  who  were submerged in  reality,  merely feeling  their  needs, emerge from reality and perceive  the causes of their needs.  In  this  way,  they  can  go beyond  the  level  of real consciousness  to  that of potential consciousness  much more rapidly  Once the codifications  have been prepared and all their possible  thematic facets have been studied by the interdisciplinary team, the  investigators begin the third stage of the investigation by returning  to the area to initiate decoding dialogues in the "thematic investiga­ tion  circles."31 These  discussions,  which  decode  the  material pre­ pared in the  preceding  stage,  are taped for subequent  analysis by  the  interdisciplinary  team.32 In addition  to the  investigator acting  as decoding co­ordinator,  two other specialists—a psychologist and  a sociologist—attend the meetings. Their task is to note and record  the  significant  (and  apparently  insignificant)  reactions  of  the  de­ coders.  During the decoding process, the co­ordinator must not only lis­ 31.  Each "investigation circle** should have a maximum of twenty persons.  There  should  be  as  many  circles  as  necessary  to  involve,  as participants,  ten  percent  of  the area or sub­area being  studied.  32.  These  subsequent  meetings  of analysis  should  include  the  volunteers  from  the  area who assisted  in  the  investigation,  and  some  participants  of the  "thematic  investigation  circles.** Their contribution  is both a right  to which they are  entitled  and an indispensable aid to the analysis of the specialists.  As co­investigators of the  specialists,  they  will  rectify  and/or  ratify  the  interpretations  the  latter  make  of  the  findings.  From  the  methodological  point  of view,  their participation  gives  the  investigation  (which from the  beginning  is  based  on a "sympathetic"  relationship)  an additional  safeguard: the critical presence  of representatives  of the people from  the  beginning  until  the  final  phase,  that  of  thematic  analysis,  continued  in  the  organization  of  the  program  content  of  educational  action  as  liberating  cultural  action.  1 1 8 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  ten to the  individuals  but must challenge  them,  posing as problems  both  the  codified  existential  situation  and  tlieir  own  answers.  Due  to  the  cathartic  force  of  the  methodology,  the  participants  of  the  thematic  investigation  circles  externalize  a series  of sentiments  and  opinions about themselves,  the world, and others,  that perhaps they  would  not  express  under  different  circumstances.  In  one  of the  thematic  investigations33  carried  out  in  Santiago,  a  group  of tenement  residents  discussed  a scene  showing  a  drunken  man walking  on  the  street  and three  young  men  conversing  on  the  corner.  The  group participants commented  that "the only one  there  who  is  productive  and  useful  to  his  country  is  the  souse  who  is  returning  home  after working all day for low wages and who is wor­ ried  about  his  family  because  he  cant  take  care  of their  needs.  He  is  the  only  worker.  He  is  a decent  worker and  a souse  like us."  The  investigator34  had  intended  to  study  aspects  of  alcoholism.  He  probably  would  not  have elicited  the  above  responses  if he  had  presented  the  participants  with  a questionnaire  he  had  elaborated  himself.  If asked  directly,  they  might  even  have denied  ever  taking  a drink themselves.  But in their comments  on the codification  of an  existential  situation  they  could  recognize,  and  in  which  they  could  recognize  themselves,  they  said what  they  really  felt.  There  are  two  important  aspects  to  these  declarations.  On  the  one hand, they verbalize the connection between earning low wages,  feeling  exploited,  and getting drunk—getting  drunk as a flight from  reality,  as  an  attempt  to  overcome  the  frustration  of inaction,  as an  ultimately  self­destructive  solution.  On  the  other  hand,  they  mani­ fest the need to rate the drunkard highly.  He is the "only one  useful  to his  country,  because  he  works,  while  the  others  only  gab." After  praising  the  drunkard,  the  participants  then  identify  themselves  with  him,  as workers  who  also drink—"decent  workers."  In contrast, imagine the failure of a moralistic educator,35 sermoniz­ 33.  This particular investigation was, unfortunately,  not completed.  34.  The psychiatrist Patricio Lopes, whose work is described in Educagdo como Prdtica da Liberdade. 35.  See Niebuhr, op cit. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 119  ing against alcoholism  and presenting as an example of virtue some­ thing which for these men is not a manifestation of virtue. In this and  in other cases, the only sound procedure is the conscientizagdo of the  situation,  which  should be attempted from the start of the  thematic  investigation.  (Obviously, conscientizagdo does not stop at the level of  mere subjective perception of a situation, but through action prepares  men for the struggle against the obstacles to their humanization.)  In  another  experience,  this  time  with  peasants,  I  observed  that  the  unchanging  motif during  an entire  discussion  of a situation  de­ picting work  in  the  fields  was the  demand  for an increase  in  wages  and  the  necessity  of joining  together  to  create  a  union  to  obtain  this particular demand.  Three  situations were discussed  during  the  session,  and  the  motif was always the  same.  Now imagine an educator who has organized his educational pro­ gram  for  these  men,  consisting  of  reading  "wholesome"  texts  in  which  one  learns  that  "the water is  in  the  well." But  precisely  this  type  of  thing  happens  all  the  time  in  both  education  and  politics,  because  it  is  not  realized  that  the  dialogical  nature  of  education  begins  with  thematic  investigation.  Once  the  decoding  in  the  circles  has  been  completed,  the  last  stage  of  the  investigation  begins,  as  the  investigators  undertake  a  systematic interdisciplinary  study of their findings. Listening to the  tapes recorded during the decoding sessions and studying the notes  taken by the  psychologists  and the  sociologist,  the  investigators be­ gin  to  list  the  themes  explicit  or implicit  in  the  affirmations  made  during the sessions.  These  themes  should be classified  according to  the  various  social  sciences.  Classification  does  not  mean  that  when  the  program  is  elaborated  the  themes  will  be  seen  as belonging  to  isolated  categories,  but  only  that  a  theme  is  viewed  in  a  specific  manner  by  each  of  the  social  sciences  to  which  it  is  related  The  theme  of development,  for example,  is especially  appropriate  to the  field of economics,  but not exclusively so. This theme would also be  focalized  by  sociology,  anthropology,  and  social  psychology  (fields  concerned  with  cultural  change  and  with  the  modification  of  atti­ 120-PAULO FREIRE tudes and values—questions which are equally relevant to a philoso- phy of development). It would be focalized by political science (a field concerned with the decisions which involve development), by education, and so forth. In this way, the themes which characterize a totality will never be approached rigidly. It would indeed be a pity if the themes, after being investigated in the richness of their interpenetration with other aspects of reality, were subsequently to be handled in such a way as to sacrifice their richness (and hence their force) to the strictures of specialties. Once the thematic demarcation is completed, each specialist pre- sents to the interdisciplinary team a project for the "breakdown" of his theme. In breaking down the theme, the specialist looks for the fundamental nuclei which, comprising learning units and establish- ing a sequence, give a general view of the theme. As each specific project is discussed, the other specialists make suggestions. These may be incorporated into the project and/or may be included in the brief essays to be written on the theme, These essays, to which bibliographic suggestions are annexed, are valuable aids in training the teacher-students who will work in the "culture circles." During this effort to break down the meaningful thematics, the team will recognize the need to include some fundamental themes which were not directly suggested by the people during the preced- ing investigation. The introduction of these themes has proved to be necessary, and also corresponds to the dialogical character of education. If educational programming is dialogical, the teacher- students also have the right to participate by including themes not previously suggested. I call the latter type of theme "hinged themes," due to their function. They may either facilitate the con- nection between two themes in the program unit, filling a possible gap between the two; or they may illustrate the relations between the general program content and the view of the world held by the people. Hence, one of these themes may be located at the beginning of thematic units. The anthropological concept of culture is one of these hinged PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 121  themes.  It  clarifies  the  role  of people  in  the  world  and with  the  world as transforming rather than adaptive beings.36  Once the breakdown of the thematics is completed,37 there follows  the stage of its "codification": choosing the best channel of communi­ cation for each theme and its representation.  A codification may be  simple or compound. The former utilizes either the visual (pictorial  or graphic),  the  tactile,  or the  auditive  channel;  the  latter  utilizes  various channels.38 The selection of the pictorial or graphic channel  depends not only on the material to be codified, but also on whether  or not  the  individuals with whom one wishes  to communicate are  literate.  ^  After the thematics has been codified,  the didactic material (pho­ tographs,  slides, film strips,  posters,  reading texts, and so forth) is  prepared. The  team may propose  some themes or aspects of some  themes to outside specialists as topics for recorded interviews.  Let us take the theme of development as an example. The team  36.  With regard to the importance of the anthropological  analysis of culture,  see  Educagdo como Prdtica da Liberdade. 37.  Note that the entire program is a totality made up of interrelated units which  in  themselves  are also  totalities.  The themes are totalities in themselves but are also elements which in interaction  constitute  the  thematic  units of the  entire  program.  The  thematic  breakdown  splits  the  total  themes  in  search  of their  fundamental  nuclei,  which  are the  partial  elements.  The codification  process attempts to re­totalize the disjoined theme in the repre­ sentation  of existential  situations.  In  decoding,  individuals  split  the  codification  to  apprehend  its  implicit  theme  or themes.  The  dialectical  decoding  process  does  not  end  there,  but is  completed  in the  re­totalization  of the disjoined  whole which  is thus more clearly  understood  (as are also its relations to other codified situations, all of which represent existential  situations).  38.  CODIFICATION  a)  Simple:  visual  channel  pictorial  graphic  tactile  channel  auditive  channel  b) Compound:  simultaneity  of channels  122-PAULO FREIRE approaches two or more economists of varying schools of thought, tells them about the program, and invites them to contribute an interview on the subject in language comprehensible to the audi- ence. If the specialists accept, an interview of fifteen to twenty min- utes is taped. A photograph may be taken of each specialist while he is speaking. When the taped interview is presented to the culttire circle, an introductory statement indicates who each speaker is, what she or he has written, done, and doing now; meanwhile, the speaker s pho- tograph is projected on a screen. If, for instance, the speaker is a university professor, the introduction could include a discussion regarding what the participants think of universities and what they expect of them. The group has already been told that the recorded interview will be followed by a discussion of its contents (which function as an auditive codification). The team subsequently reports to the specialist the reaction of the participants during the discus- sion. This technique links intellectuals, often well-intentioned but not infrequently alienated from the reality of the people, to that reality. It also gives the people an opportunity to hear and criticize the thought of intellectuals. Some themes or nuclei may be presented by means of brief dra- matizations, containing the theme only—no "solutions"! The drama- tization acts as a codification, as a problem-posing situation to be discussed. Another didactic resource—as long as it is carried out within a problem-posing rather than a banking approach to education—is the reading and discussion of magazine articles, newspapers, and book chapters (beginning with passages). As in the case of the recorded interviews, the author is introduced before the group begins, and the contents are discussed afterward. Along the same lines, it is indispensable to analyze the contents of newspaper editorials following any given event: "Why do different newspapers have such different interpretations of the same fact?" This practice helps develop a sense of criticism, so that people will react to newspapers or news broadcasts not as passive objects of PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  123  the "communiques" directed at them,  but rather as consciousnesses  seeking  to be  free.  With all the didactic material prepared,  to which should be added  small  introductory  manuals,  the  team  of  educators  is  ready  to  re­ present  to  the  people  their  own  thematics,  in  systematized  and  amplified  form.  The  thematics  which  have  come  from  the  people  return  to  them—not  as contents  to  be  deposited,  but  as  problems  to be  solved.  The  first  task  of  the  basic­education  teachers  is  to  present  the  general  program  of the  educational  campaign.  The  people  will find  themselves  in  this program; it will  not  seem  strange  to them,  since  it  originated  with  them.  The  educators  will  also  explain  (based  on  the  dialogical  character  of education)  the  presence  in  the  program  of the  hinged  themes,  and their  significance.  If the educators lack sufficient  funds  to carry out the  preliminary  thematic  investigation  as  described  above,  they  can—with  a  mini­ mum knowledge of the situation—select  some basic themes to serve  as  "codifications  to  be  investigated."  Accordingly,  they  can  begin  with  introductory  themes  and  simultaneously  initiate  further  the­ matic  investigation.  One  of these  basic themes  (and one which  I consider central and  indispensable)  is  the  anthropological  concept  of  culture.  Whether  men and women are peasants or urban workers,  learning to read or  enrolled in a post­literacy program,  the starting point of their search  to  know  more  (in  the  instrumental  meaning  of  the  term)  is  the  debate  of  the  concept.  As  they  discuss  the  world  of  culture,  they  express  their  level  of awareness  of reality,  in  which  various  themes  are implicit.  Their discussion  touches  upon other aspects  of reality,  which  comes  to  be  perceived  in  an  increasingly  critical  manner.  These  aspects  in turn  involve  many other  themes.  With the experience now behind me, I can affirm that the concept  of culture,  discussed  imaginatively  in all or most  of its  dimensions,  can provide various aspects of an educational  program.  In addition,  after  several  days  of  dialogue  with  the  culture  circle  participants,  the educators can ask the participants directly: "What other  themes  124-PAULO FREIRE or subjects could we discuss besides these?" As each person replies, the answer is noted down and is immediately proposed to the group as a problem. One of the group members may say, for example: "I'd like to talk abut nationalism." "Very well," says the educator, noting down the suggestion, and adds: "What does nationalism mean? Why is a dis- cussion about nationalism of any interest to us?" My experience shows that when a suggestion is posed as a problem to the group, new themes appear. If, in an area where (for example) thirty culture circles meet on the same night, all the "co-ordinators" (educators) proceed in this fashion, the central team will have a rich variety of thematic material for study. The important thing, from the point of view of libertarian edu- cation, is for the people to come to feel like masters of their thinking by discussing the thinking and views of the world explicitly or im- plicitly manifest in their own suggestions and those of their com- rades. Because this view of education starts with the conviction that it cannot present its own program but must search for this program dialogically with the people, it serves to introduce the pedagogy of the oppressed, in the elaboration of which the oppressed must participate. CHAPTER  4 T his  chapter,  which  analyses  the  theories  of cultural  action  which  develop  from  antidialogical  and  dialogical  matrices,  will  make  frequent  reference  to  points  presented  in  the  previous  chapters,  either  to  expand  these  points  or  to  clarify  new  affirmations.  I  shall  start  by  reaffirming  that  humankind,  as  beings  of  the  praxis,  differ  from  animals,  which  are  beings  of pure  activity.  Ani­ mals do not consider the world; they are immersed in it.  In contrast,  human  beings  emerge  from  the  world,  objectify  it,  and in  so  doing  can understand  it and transform  it with  their labor.  Animals,  which  do  not  labor,  live  in  a setting which  they  cannot  transcend.  Hence,  each  animal  species  lives  in  the  context  appro­ priate  to it,  and these  contexts,  while  open  to humans,  cannot com­ municate  among  themselves.  But  human  activity  consists  of action  and  reflection:  it  is praxis;  it  is  transformation  of  the  world.  And  as  praxis,  it  requires  theory  to illuminate it.  Human activity is theory and practice; it is reflection  and action.  It cannot,  as I stressed in chapter 2, be reduced to either  verbalism  or activism.  Lenin's  famous  statement:  "Without  a revolutionary  theory  there  can  be  no  revolutionary  movement"1  means  that  a  revolution  is  1.  Vladimir  Lenin,  "What  is  to  be  Done," in Essential Works of Lenin,  Henry  M.  Christman,  ed  (New  York,  1966),  p.  69.  126'PAULO FREIRE achieved with neither verbalism nor adtivism, but rather with praxis,  that  is,  with reflection  and action  directed  at  the  structures  to  be  transformed.  The  revolutionary  effort  to transform  these  structures  radically  cannot  designate  its  leaders  as  its thinkers  and  the  op­ pressed  as  mere doers. If  true  commitment  to  the  people,  involving  the  transformation  of  the  reality  by  which  they  are  oppressed,  requires  a  theory  of  transforming  action,  this  theory  cannot  fail  to  assign  the  people  a  fundamental  role  in  the  transformation  process.  The  leaders  cannot  treat  the  oppressed  as  mere  activists  to be  denied  the  opportunity  of  reflection  and  allowed  merely  the  illusion  of acting,  whereas  in  fact they would continue  to be manipulated—and  in this case by the  presumed  foes  of manipulation.  The  leaders  do  bear  the  responsibility  for  coordination  and,  at  times,  direction—but  leaders  who  deny  praxis  to  the  oppressed  thereby  invalidate  their  own  praxis.  By  imposing  their  word  on  others,  they  falsify  that word and establish  a contradiction  between  their  methods  and  their  objectives.  If they  are  truly  committed  to  liberation,  their  action  and  reflection  cannot  proceed  without  the  action  and  reflection  of others.  Revolutionary  praxis  must  stand  opposed  to  the  praxis  of  the  dominant  elites,  for  they  are  by  nature  antithetical.  Revolutionary  praxis  cannot  tolerate  an  absurd  dichotomy  in  which  the  praxis  of  the  people  is  merely  that  of following  the  leaders  decisions—a  di­ chotomy reflecting  the prescriptive  methods of the dominant elites.  Revolutionary  praxis  is  a  unity,  and  the  leaders  cannot  treat  the  oppressed  as their  possession.  Manipulation,  sloganizing,  "depositing," regimentation,  and pre­ scription  cannot  be  components  of  revolutionary  praxis,  precisely  because  they  are  components  of the  praxis  of domination.  In  order  to  dominate,  the  dominator  has  no  choice  but  to  deny  true  praxis  to the  people,  deny  them  the  right to say their own word and think  their own  thoughts.  He  and she  cannot act dialogically; for to do  so  would  mean  either  that they had relinquished  their power to domi­ nate  and joined  the  cause  of the  oppressed,  or had  lost  that  power  through  miscalculation.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  •  127  Obversely,  revolutionary  leaders  who  do  not  act  dialogically  in  their  relations  with  the  people  either  have  retained  characteristics  of the  dominator and are not truly revolutionary; or they are totally  misguided  in  their  conception  of their  role,  and,  prisoners  of  their  own  sectarianism,  are  equally  non­revolutionary.  They  may  even  reach power  But the validity of any revolution resulting from antidia­ logical  action  is  thoroughly  doubtful.  It  is  absolutely  essential  that  the  oppressed  participate  in  the  revolutionary process with an increasingly critical awareness of their  role  as  Subjects  of  the  transformation.  If  they  are  drawn  into  the  process  as ambiguous  beings,  partly  themselves  and partly  the op­ pressors  housed  within  them—and  if they  come  to  power  still  em­ bodying  that  ambiguity  imposed  on  them  by  the  situation  of  oppression—it  is  my contention  that they will  merely imagine  they  have reached power.2 Their existential duality may even facilitate  the  rise of a sectarian climate leading to the installation of bureaucracies  which  undermine  the  revolution.  If the  oppressed  do  not  become  aware of this ambiguity  during the course of the revolutionary proc­ ess,  they may participate in that process with a spirit more revanch­ ist than revolutionary.3 They  may aspire  to revolution  as a means  of  domination,  rather than as a road to liberation.  If revolutionary  leaders who incarnate  a genuine  humanism  have  difficulties  and  problems,  the  difficulties  and  problems  will  be  far  greater for a group of leaders who  try  (even with  the  best  of inten­ tions)  to carry  out  the  revolution for  the  people.  To attempt  this  is  equivalent  to carrying out a revolution without  the  people,  because  2.  This danger further  requires  the  revolutionary  leaders  to resist  imitating  the  procedures  of the  oppressors,  who "enter" the oppressed  and are "housed" by  the  latter. The revolutionaries,  in their praxis with the oppressed,  cannot try to "reside"  in  the  latter.  On  the  contrary,  when  they  try  (with  the  oppressed)  to  "throw out"  the oppressors,  they do this in order to live with  the oppressed—not  to live within  them.  3.  Although the oppressed,  who have always been subject to a regime of exploita­ tion,  may understandably  impart a revanchist dimension to the revolutionary  strug­ gle,  the  revolution  must  not  exhaust  its forces  in  this  dimension.  1 2 8 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  the  people  are  drawn  into  the  process  by  the  same  methods  and  procedures  used  to oppress  them.  Dialogue with the people is radically necessary to every authentic  revolution.  This  is what makes it a revolution,  as distinguished  from  a  military coup.  One  does  not  expect  dialogue  from  a coup—only  deceit (in order to achieve "legitimacy") or force (in order to repress).  Sooner or later, a true revolution must initiate a courageous dialogue  with  the  people.  Its very  legitimacy  lies  in that dialogue.4 It cannot  fear  the  people,  their  expression,  their  effective  participation  in  power.  It must be  accountable  to them,  must speak frankly to them  of  its  achievements,  its  mistakes,  its  miscalculations,  and  its  diffi­ culties.  The earlier dialogue begins,  the more truly revolutionary will the  movement  be.  The  dialogue  which  is  radically  necessary  to revolu­ tion  corresponds  to  another  radical  need:  that  of women  and  men  as  beings  who  cannot  be  truly  human  apart  from  communication,  for  they  are  essentially  communicative  creatures.  To impede  com­ munication  is to reduce  men  to the  status of "things"—and  this is a  job  for oppressors,  not  for  revolutionaries.  Let me emphasize that my defense of the praxis implies no dichot­ omy  by  which  this  praxis  could  be  divided  into  a  prior  stage  of  reflection  and  a  subsequent  stage  of  action.  Action  and  reflection  occur  simultaneously.  A critical  analysis  of reality  may, however,  re­ veal  that  a  particular  form  of  action  is  impossible  or  inappropriate  at the present time. Those who through reflection perceive the infea­ sibility  or inappropriateness  of one or another form of action (which  should  accordingly  be  postponed  or substituted)  cannot  thereby  be  accused  of inaction.  Critical  reflection  is also action.  I  previously  stated  that  in  education  the  attempt  of the  teacher­ student  to  understand  a cognizable  object  is  not  exhausted  in  that  object,  because  this  act  extends  to  other  students­teachers  in  such  4.  "While  we  might  obtain  some  benefit  from  doubt," said  Fidel  Castro  to  the  Cuban  people  as he  confirmed  the  death  of Guevara, "lies, fear  of the  truth,  com­ plicity with false  illusions,  and complicity with  lies have never been weapons of the  revolution." Quoted  in Gramma.  October  17,  1967.  Emphasis added.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  •  129  a way that the cognizable object mediates their capacity for under­ standing.  The same  is  true  of revolutionary  action.  That  is, the  oppressed and the leaders are equally the Subjects of revolutionary  action, and reality serves as the medium for the transforming action  of both groups. In this theory of action one cannot speak of an actor, nor simply of actors, but rather of actors in intercommunication. ■» This affirmation  might appear to imply division,  dichotomy, rup­ ture of the revolutionary forces; in fact, it signifies exactly the oppo­ site:  their  communion.  Apart from this  communion,  we do see  dichotomy: leaders on one side and people on the other, in a replica  of the relations of oppression.  Denial of communion in the  revolu­ tionary  process,  avoidance of dialogue  with  the people  under the  pretext of organizing them, of strengthening revolutionary power, or  of ensuring a united front, is really a fear of freedom. It is fear of or  lack of faith in the people. But if the people cannot be trusted, there  is no reason for liberation; in this  case  the revolution  is not even  carried  out for the people, but "by" the people for the leaders:  a  complete  self­negation.  The  revolution  is made  neither  by the leaders  for the people,  nor by the people for the leaders,  but by both  acting  together in  unshakable solidarity.  This solidarity is born only when the leaders  witness  to it by their  humble,  loving,  and courageous  encounter  with  the people.  Not all men and  women  have  sufficient  courage  for  this  encounter—but  when  they  avoid  encounter  they  become  inflexible and treat others as mere objects; instead of nurturing life,  they  kill  life;  instead  of searching  for life,  they  flee  from  it.  And  these are oppressor characteristics.  Some may think that to affirm dialogue—the encounter of women  and men in the world in order to transform  the world—is naively  and subjectively idealistic.5 There is nothing, however, more real or  concrete than people in the world and with the world, than humans  with other humans—and some people against others, as oppressing  and oppressed classes.  5.  Once  more,  let me repeat  that  this  dialogical  encounter  cannot  take  place  between  antagonists.  1 3 0 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  Authentic  revolution  attempts  to  transform  the  reality  which  be­ gets  this  dehumanizing  state  of  affairs.  Those  whose  interests  are  served  by  that  reality  cannot  carry  out  this  transformation;  it  must  be  achieved  by  the  tyrannized,  with  their  leaders.  This  truth,  how­ ever,  must become  radically consequential; that is, the leaders  must  incarnate  it,  through communion  with  the people.  In this commun­ ion  both  groups  grow  together,  and  the  leaders,  instead  of  being  simply  self­appointed,  are  installed  or authenticated  in  their  praxis  with  the  praxis  of the  people.  Many  persons,  bound  to  a  mechanistic  view  of  reality,  do  not  perceive  that  the  concrete  situation  of  individuals  conditions  their  consciousness  of the world,  and that in turn  this consciousness  con­ ditions  their  attitudes  and  their  ways  of dealing  with  reality.  They  think  that  reality  can  be  transformed  mechanistically,6  without  pos­ ing  the  persons  false  consciousness  of  reality  as  a  problem  or,  through  revolutionary  action,  developing  a  consciousness  which  is  less and less false.  There is no historical  reality which  is not human.  There  is  no  history without  humankind,  and  no  history for  human  beings;  there  is  only  history of  humanity,  made  by people  and  (as  Marx  pointed  out)  in  turn  making  them.  It  is  when  the  majorities  are denied  their right  to participate  in history  as Subjects  that they  become  dominated  and  alienated.  Thus,  to  supersede  their  condi­ tion  as objects  by  the  status  of  Subjects—the  objective  of any  true  revolution—requires  that the people  act,  as well as reflect,  upon  the  reality  to  be  transformed.  It  would  indeed  be  idealistic  to  affirm  that,  by  merely  reflecting  on oppressive  reality and discovering their status as objects,  persons  have thereby  already become  Subjects.  But while this perception  in  and  of itself  does  not  mean  that  thinkers  have  become  Subjects,  it  6.  'The  epochs  during  which  the  dominant  classes  are  stable,  epochs  in  which  the  workers* movement  must  defend  itself  against  a  powerful  adversary  which  is  occasionally  threatening  and  is  in  every  case  solidly  seated  in  power,  produces  naturally a socialist literature which emphasizes the 'material' element of reality, the  obstacles  to  be  overcome,  and  the  scant  efficacy  of human  awareness  and  action."  Goldman, op. cit.,  pp.  80­81.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  131  does  mean,  as  one  of  my  co­investigators7  affirmed,  that  they  are  "Subjects in expectancy*—an  expectancy  which leads  them  to  seek  to  solidify  their new status.  On  the  other  hand,  it  would  be  a false  premise  to  believe  that  activism  (which  is not true  action) is the  road to revolution.  People  will be  truly critical  if they live  the plenitude  of the praxis,  that is,  if  their  action  encompasses  a critical  reflection  which  increasingly  organizes their thinking and thus leads them to move from a purely  naive knowledge of reality to a higher level, one which enables them  to  perceive  the causes  of reality.  If revolutionary  leaders  deny  this  right  to  the  people,  they  impair  their  own capacity  to  think—or  at  least  to think  correctly.  Revolutionary  leaders  cannot  think without the  people,  nor for  the  people,  but  only with  the  people.  The  dominant  elites,  on  the  other  hand,  can—and  do—think  without  the  people—although  they  do  not  permit  themselves  the  luxury  of failing  to  think about  the  people  in  order  to  know  them  better  and thus dominate  them  more efficiently.  Consequently,  any  apparent  dialogue  or  communication  between  the  elites  and  the  masses  is  really  the  depositing  of "communiques," whose  contents  are  intended  to exercise  a domesticating  influence.  Why  do  the  dominant  elites  not  become  debilitated  when  they  do  not  think  with  the  people?  Because  the  latter  constitute  their  antithesis,  their very reason for existence.  If the elites were to think  with  the  people,  the  contradiction  would  be  superseded  and  they  could no longer dominate.  From the point of view of the  dominators  in any epoch,  correct  thinking presupposes  the non­thinking of the  people.  A Mr. Giddy,  later President of the Royal Society  raised objec­ tions which could be matched in every country: "However spe­ cious in theory the project might be of giving education to the  laboring classes of the poor, it would be prejudicial to their mor­ als  and happiness; it would  teach them  to despise  their lot in  7.  Fernando  Garcia,  a  Honduran,  in  a  course  for  Latin  Americans  (Santiago,  1967).  132­PAULO  FREIRE  life  instead  of  making  them  good  servants  in  agricultural  and  other laborious employments; instead of teaching them subordi­ nation it would render them fractious and refractory as was evi­ dent  in  the  manufacturing  counties; J t  would  enable  them  to  read seditious pamphlets, vicious books and publications against  Christianity;  it  would  render  them  insolent  to  their  superiors  and  in  a  few  years  the  legislature  would find it  necessary  to  direct the strong arm of power against them.8  What  Mr.  Giddy  really  wanted  (and  what  the  elites  of today want,  although  they  do  not  denounce  popular  education  so cynically  and  openly) was for the people  not  to think.  Since the  Mr. Giddys of all  epochs,  as an oppressor class,  cannot think with  the people,  neither  can  they  let  the  people  think  for  themselves.  The same is not true,  however,  of revolutionary leaders; if they do  not think with the  people,  they become  devitalized.  The people are  their  constituent  matrix,  not  mere  objects  thought  of.  Although  revolutionary  leaders  may  also  have  to  think  about  the  people  in  order  to  understand  them  better,  this  thinking  differs  from  that  of  the elite; for in thinking about the people in order to liberate (rather  than dominate) them,  the leaders give of themselves  to the  thinking  of  the  people.  One  is  the  thinking  of  the master;  the  other  is  the  thinking  of the comrade. Domination,  by  its  very  nature,  requires  only  a  dominant  pole  and  a  dominated  pole  in  antithetical  contradiction;  revolutionary  liberation,  which  attempts to resolve  this contradiction,  implies  the  existence not only of these poles but also of a leadership group which  emerges during this attempt. This leadership group either  identifies  itself with  the  oppressed  state of the  people,  or it is not revolution­ ary. To simply think about  the people,  as the dominators do, without  any  self­giving  in  that  thought,  to fail  to think with  the  people,  is a  sure  way to cease  being revolutionary  leaders.  In the process of oppression the elites subsist on the "living death"  of the  oppressed  and  find  their  authentication  in  the  vertical  rela­ tionship  between  themselves  and  the  latter;  in  the  revolutionary  8.  Niebuhr, op. cit.t pp. 117­118.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  133  process  there  is only one way for the emerging leaders to achieve  authenticity:  they  must  "die," in  order  to  be  reborn  through and  with the oppressed.  We can legitimately say that in the process of oppression someone  oppresses someone else; we cannot say that in the process of revolu­ tion someone liberates someone else, nor yet that someone liberates  himself,  but rather that human beings in communion liberate each  other.  This affirmation  is not meant to undervalue the  importance  of  revolutionary  leaders  but,  on  the  contrary,  to  emphasize  their  value.  What could  be  more  important  than  to live  and work with  the oppressed,  with the "rejects of life," with the "wretched of the  earth"? In  this  communion,  the  revolutionary  leaders  should find  not only their raison d'etre but a motive for rejoicing.  By their very  nature,  revolutionary leaders can do what the dominant elites—by  their very nature—are unable to do in authentic terms.  Every  approach  to  the  oppressed  by  the  elites,  as  a  class,  is  couched in terms of the false generosity described in chapter 1. But  the  revolutionary  leaders cannot be falsely  generous,  nor can they  manipulate/Whereas the oppressor elites flourish by trampling the  people  underfoot,  the  revolutionary  leaders  can flourish only  in  communion with the people.  Thus it is that the activity of the op­ pressor cannot be humanist, while that of the revolutionary is neces­ sarily so.  The  inhumanity  of the  oppressors  and revolutionary  humanism  both make use of science. But science and technology at the service  of  the  former  are  used  to  reduce  the  oppressed  to  the  status  of  "things"; at the  service  of the latter,  they are used to promote hu­ manization. The oppressed must become Subjects of the latter pro­ cess,  however,  lest  they  continue  to  be  seen  as  mere  objects  of  scientific interest.  Scientific revolutionary humanism cannot, in the name of revolu­ tion,  treat  the  oppressed  as objects  to be  analyzed and (based on  that analysis) presented with prescriptions for behavior. To do this  would be  to fall  into one  of the  myths of the  oppressor  ideology:  the absolutizing of ignorance.  This  myth  implies  the  existence  of  134-PAULO FREIRE someone  who  decrees  the  ignorance  of someone  else.  The one  who  is  doing  the  decreeing  defines  himself  and  the  class  to  which  he  belongs as those who know or were born to, know; he thereby  defines  others  as alien  entities.  The  words  of his  own  class  come  to  be  the  "true" words, which he imposes or attempts to impose on the others:  the  oppressed,  whose  words  have  been  stolen  from  them.  Those  who  steal  the  words  of others  develop  a deep  doubt  in  the  abilities  of  the  others  and  consider  them  incompetent.  Each  time  they  say  their  word  without  hearing  the  word  of those  whom  they  have for­ bidden  to  speak,  they  grow more  accustomed  to power and acquire  a taste for guiding,  ordering,  and commanding.  They can no longer  live without  having someone  to give orders to.  Under these circum­ stances,  dialogue  is  impossible.  Scientific  and humanist  revolutionary  leaders,  on  the other hand,  cannot  believe  in  the  myth  of the  ignorance  of the  people.  They  do  not  have  the  right  to  doubt  for  a  single  moment  that  it  is  only  a  myth. They cannot believe that they, and only they, know anything—  for this means  to doubt  the  people.  Although  they  may  legitimately  recognize  themselves  as  having,  due  to  fheir  revolutionary  con­ sciousness,  a  level  of  revolutionary  knowledge  different  from  the  level of empirical knowledge held by the people,  they cannot impose  themselves  and  their  knowledge  on  the  people.  They  cannot  slo­ ganize  the  people,  but  must enter  into dialogue  with  them,  so that  the  peoples  empirical  knowledge  of reality,  nourished  by  the  lead­ ers  critical  knowledge,  gradually  becomes  transformed  into  know­ ledge  of the causes  of reality.  It  would  be  naive  to  expect  oppressor  elites  to  denounce  the  myth  which  absolutizes  the  ignorance  of the  people;  it  would  be  a  contradiction  in  terms  if  revolutionary  leaders  were not  to  do  so,  and more contradictory  still were they to act in accordance with that  myth.  The  task  of  revolutionary  leaders  is  to  pose  as problems  not  only this myth,  but all the other myths used by the oppressor elites  to oppress.  If,  instead,  revolutionary leaders persist  in imitating  the  oppressors  methods  of  domination,  the  people  may  respond  in  either  of  two  ways.  In  certain  historical  circumstances,  they  may  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  • 135  become domesticated by the new contents which the leaders deposit  in them.  In other circumstances,  they  may become  frightened  by a  "word" which  threatens the oppressor housed within them.9 In nei­ ther event do they become  revolutionary.  In the first case,  the revo­ lution  is an illusion;  in  the  second  case,  an  impossibility.  Some well­intentioned  but misguided  persons suppose  that since  \he  dialogical process is prolonged10 (which, incidentally,  is not true),  they  ought  to  carry  out  the  revolution  without  communication,  by  means of "communiques," and that once  the revolution  is won,  they  will then  develop  a thoroughgoing  educational  effort.  They  further  justify  this  procedure  by  saying  that  it  is  not  possible  to  carry  out  education—liberating  education—before  taking power.  It is worth analyzing some fundamental  points of the above asser­ 9.  Sometimes  this  "word" is  not  even  spoken.  The  presence  of  someone  (not  necessarily  belonging  to  a  revolutionary  group)  who  can  threaten  the  oppressor  "housed" in  the  people  is  sufficient  for the  latter  to assume  destructive  positions.  A student  once  told  me  how; in a certain  Latin American  peasant  community,  a  fanatical priest had denounced the presence in the community of two "communists"  who  were  "endangering" what  he  called  the  "Catholic  faith." That  very  night  the  peasants,  to a man, joined together to burn alive the two simple elementary  school  teachers  who  had been  educating the  local children.  Perhaps  that priest had  seen  in  the  house  of the  teachers  a book with  a bearded  man on the  cover  .  .  .  10.  Once more, I wish to emphasize that there is no dichotomy between dialogue  and revolutionary action. There is not one stage for dialogue and another for revolu­ tion.  On the contrary, dialogue is the essence  of revolutionary action. In the theory  of this action, the actors  intersubjectively direct their action upon an object (reality, which  mediates  them)  with  the  humanization  of  men  (to  be  achieved  by  trans­ forming  that  reality) as their objective.  In the  theory  of oppressor action,  antidialogical  in essence,  the  above scheme  is  simplified.  The actors  have as simultaneous objects  of their action both reality  and  the oppressed,  and  the  preservation  of  oppression  (through  the  preservation  of  oppressive  reality)  as their  ojective.  THEORY  OF  THEORY  OF  REVOLUTIONARY  ACTION  OPPRESSIVE  ACTION  Intersubjectivity  Subjects-Actors Actors-Subjects Actors-Subjects (revolutionary  (the  oppressed)  (dominant  elites)  leaders)  136-PAULO FREIRE tions. These men and women (or most of them) believe in the neces- sity for dialogue with the people, but do not believe this dialogue is feasible prior to taking power. When they deny the possibility that the leaders can behave in a critically educational fashion before tak- ing power, they deny the revolutions educational quality as cultural action preparing to become cultural revolution. On the other hand, they confuse cultural action with the new education to be inaugu- rated once power is taken. I have already affirmed that it would indeed be naive to expect the oppressor elites to carry out a liberating education. But because the revolution undeniably has an educational nature, in the sense that unless it liberates it is not revolution, the taking of power is only one moment—no matter how decisive—in the revolutionary process. As process, the "before" of the revolution is located within the oppressor society and is apparent only to the revolutionary con- sciousness. The revolution is born as a social entity within the oppressor society; to the extent that it is cultural action, it cannot fail to corre- spond to the potentialities of the social entity in which it originated. Every entity develops (or is transformed) within itself, through the interplay of its contradictions. External conditioners, while neces- sary, are effective only if they coincide with those potentialities.11 The newness of the revolution is generated within the old, oppres- sive society; the taking of power constitutes only a decisive moment Interaction  Object Reality  to Object Object—the Object—the  which  be  trans­  which  reality  to  be  oppressed  (as  mediates  formed  mediates  preserved  part  of reality)  for  for  Objective Humaniza­ Objective Objective—the  tion  as a  preservation  of  permanent  oppression  process  11.  See  Mao Tse Tung,  op. cit. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 137  of  the  continuing  revolutionary  process.  In  a dynamic,  rather  than  static,  view  of  revolution,  there  is  no  absolute  "before"  or  "after,"  with  the  taking  of power  as the  dividing  line.  Originating  in objective conditions,  revolution  seeks to supersede  the  situation  of oppression  by  inaugurating  a society  of women  and  men  in  the  process  of continuing  liberation.  The  educational,  dia­ logical  quality  of  revolution,  which  makes  it  a "cultural  revolution"  as well,  must  be  present  in all its stages.  This  educational  quality is  one of the most effective  instruments for keeping the revolution  from  becoming  institutionalized  and  stratified  in  a  counter­revolutionary  bureaucracy; for counter­revolution  is carried out by  revolutionaries  who  become  reactionary.  Were  it  not  possible  to dialogue  with  the  people  before  power is  taken, because they have no experience with dialogue, neither would  it be  possible  for  the  people  to come  to power,  for they are  equally  inexperienced  in  the  use  of  power.  The  revolutionary  process  is  dynamic,  and  it  is  in  this  continuing  dynamics,  in  the  praxis of the  people with the revolutionary leaders,  that the people and the lead­ ers will learn both dialogue and the use of power.  (This is as obvious  as  affirming  that  a  person  learns  to  swim  in  the  water,  not  in  a  library.)  Dialogue  with the people  is neither a concession  nor a gift,  much  less  a tactic  to  be  used  for  domination.  Dialogue,  as the  encounter  among  men  to "name" the  world,  is a fundamental  precondition  for  their  true  humanization.  In  the  words  of Gajo Petrovic:  A free action can only be one by which a man changes his world  and  himself...  A positive  condition  of freedom is  the know­ ledge of the limits of necessity,  the awareness of human creative  possibilities  .  .  . The struggle for a free society is not a struggle  for  a free  society  unless  through  it  an  ever  greater  degree  of  individual freedom  is created.12  12.  Gajo Petrovic,  "Man and Freedom," in Socialist Humanism,  edited by  Erich  Fromm  (New  York,  1965),  pp.  274­276.  By the  same  author,  see Marx in the Mid- Twentieth Century  (New  York,  1967).  138-PAULO FREIRE If this  view  be  true,  the  revolutionary  process  is  eminently  educa­ tional  in character.  Thus the road to revolution  involves openness  to  the people,  not imperviousness to them; it involves communion with  the  people,  not  mistrust.  And,  as  Lenin "pointed  out,  the  more  a  revolution  requires  theory,  the  more  its  leaders  must  be with  the  people  in  order  to  stand  against  the  power of oppression.  Based  on  these  general  propositions,  let  us  undertake  a  more  lengthy analysis of the theories of antidialogical and dialogical action.  Conquest The  first  characteristic  of  antidialogical  action  is  the  necessity  for  conquest.  The antidialogical  individual,  in his relations with others,  aims  at conquering  them—increasingly  and  by  every  means,  from  the  toughest  to  the  most  refined,  from  the  most  repressive  to  the  most  solicitous  (paternalism).  Every act of conquest  implies a conqueror and someone or some­ thing which  is conquered.  The conqueror imposes his objectives  on  the  vanquished,  and  makes  of them  his possession.  He  imposes  his  own  contours  on  the  vanquished,  who  internalize  this  shape  and  become  ambiguous  beings  "housing"  another.  From  the  first,  the  act  of  conquest,  which  reduces  persons  to  the  status  of  things,  is  necrophilic.  Just as antidialogical  action  is a concomitant  of the  real,  concrete  situation of oppression,  dialogical action is indispensable  to the revo­ lutionary supersedence of that situation. An individual is not antidia­ logical  or  dialogical  in  the  abstract,  but  in  the  world.  He  or  she  is  not  first  antidialogical,  then  oppressor;  but  both,  simultaneously.  Within  an  objective  situation  of oppression,  antidialogue  is  neces­ sary  to  the  oppressor  as  a  means  of  further  oppression—not  only  economic,  but  cultural:  the  vanquished  are  dispossessed  of  their  word,  their  expressiveness,  their  culture.  Further,  once  a  situation  of oppression  has  been  initiated,  antidialogue  becomes  indispensa­ ble  to  its  preservation.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  139  Because liberating action is dialogical in nature, dialogue cannot  be a posteriori to that action, but must be concomitant with it. And  since liberation  must be a permanent condition,  dialogue becomes  a continuing aspect of liberating action.13  The desire for conquest (or rather the necessity of conquest) is at  all times present in antidialogical action. To this end the oppressors  attempt to destroy in the oppressed their quality as "considerers" of  the world.  Since the oppressors cannot totally achieve this destruc­ tion,  they  must mythicize the  world.  In  order  to  present  for  the  consideration  of  the  oppressed  and  subjugated  a world  of  deceit  designed  to  increase  their  alienation  and passivity,  the  oppressors  develop a series of methods precluding any presentation of the world  as a problem  and showing it rather as a fixed entity,  as something  given—something to which people, as mere spectators, must adapt.  It is necessary for the oppressors to approach the people in order,  via subjugation, to keep them passive. This approximation, however,  does not involve being with the people, or require true communica­ tion.  It is accomplished  by the oppressors  depositing myths indis­ pensable to the preservation of the status quo: for example, the myth  that the oppressive order is a "free society"; the myth that all persons  are free to work where they wish,  that if they dont like their boss  they can leave him and look for another job; the myth that this order  respects human rights and is therefore worthy of esteem; the myth  that anyone who is industrious can become an entrepreneur—worse  yet, the myth that the street vendor is as much an entrepreneur as  the  owner  of  a  large  factory;  the  myth  of  the  universal  right  of  education,  when  of  all  the  Brazilian  children  who  enter  primary  schools only  a tiny fraction ever reach  the  university; the  myth of  the  equality  of all  individuals,  when  the  question:  "Do you know  who you're talking  to?" is  still  current among us; the  myth  of the  13.  Once  a popular  revolution  has come  to  power,  the  fact  that  the  new  power  has the  ethical  duty  to repress any attempt  to restore  the old oppressive  power by  no means  signifies  that the revolution  is contradicting  its dialogical  character.  Dia­ logue between  the former oppressors and the oppressed as antagonistic classes was  not possible  before  the  revolution; it continues  to be  impossible  afterward.  140­PAULO  FREIRE  heroism  of the oppressor classes as defenders  of "Western Christian  civilization" against "materialist barbarism"; the myth of the  charity  and  generosity  of the  elites,  when  what  they  really  do  as a class  is  to  foster  selective  "good  deeds"  (subsequently^ elaborated  into  the  myth  of  "disinterested  aid," which  on  the  international  level  was  severely  criticized  by  Pope  John  XXIII);14 the  myth  that~the  domi­ nant elites,  "recognizing  their duties," promote the advancement  of  the  people,  so  that  the  people,  in  a  gesture  of  gratitude,  should  accept  the words  of the  elites  and be conformed  to them; the  myth  that  rebellion  is a sin  against  God; the  myth  of private  property  as  fundamental  to personal  human development  (so long as oppressors  are  the  only  true  human  beings);  the  myth  of  the  industriousness  of the  oppressors  and the  laziness  and dishonesty  of the  oppressed,  as  well  as  the  myth  of  the  natural  inferiority  of  the  latter  and  the  superiority  of the  former.15  All these  myths (and others the reader could list), the  internaliza­ tion  of  which  is  essential  to  the  subjugation  of  the  oppressed,  are  presented  to  them  by  well­organized  propaganda  and  slogans,  via  the mass "communications" media—as if such'alienation  constituted  real  communication!16  In  sum,  there  is  no  oppressive  reality  which  is  not  at  the  same  time  necessarily  antidialogical,  just  as  there  is  no  antidialogue  in  which  the  oppressors  do  not  untiringly  dedicate  themselves  to  the  14.  "Moreover,  economically  developed  countries  should  take  particular  care  lest,  in giving aid to poorer countries,  they endeavor to turn the prevailing political  situation  to  their own  advantage,  and  seek  to dominate  them.  Should  perchance  such  attempts  be  made,  this  clearly  would  be  but  another  form of colonialism which,  although disguised  in name,  merely reflects  their earlier  but  outdated  dominion,  now  abandoned  by  many  countries.  When  international  relations  are  thus  obstructed,  the  orderly  progress  of all  peoples  is  endangered/*  Pope  John  XXIII,  "Christianity  and  Social  Progress/' from the  Encyclical  Letter  Mater et Magistra,  articles  171 and  172.  15.  Memmi  refers  to  the  image  the  colonizer  constructs  of the  colonized: "By  his accusation the colonizer establishes the colonized as being lazy.  He decides that  laziness is  constitutional  in  the  very  nature  of  the  colonized/'  Memmi, op. cit.t p.  81.  16.  It  is not  the  media  themselves  which  I criticize,  but  the way they are  used.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  141  constant conquest of the oppressed  In ancient Rome, the dominant  elites spoke of the need to give "bread and circus" to the people in  order to "soften  them up" and to secure their own tranquility. The  dominant  elites  of  today,  like  those  of  any  epoch,  continue  (in a  version of'original sin") to need to conquer others—with or without  bread and circus. The content and methods of conquest vary histori­ cally; what  does  not  vary  (as long as  dominant  elites  exist)  is  the  necrophilic passion to oppress.  Divide and Rule This is another fundamental  dimension of the theory of oppressive  action which is as old as oppression itself. As the oppressor minority  subordinates and dominates the majority, it must divide it and keep  it divided in order to remain in power. The minority cannot permit  itself  the  luxury  of tolerating  the  unification  of the  people,  which  would undoubtedly signify a serious threat to their own hegemony.  Accordingly, the oppressors halt by any method (including violence)  any  action  which  in  even  incipient  fashion  could  awaken  the  op­ pressed to the need for unity. Concepts such as unity, organization,  and  struggle  are  immediately  labeled  as  dangerous.  In  fact,  of  course,  these concepts are dangerous—to the oppressors—for their  realization is necessary to actions of liberation.  It is in the interest of the oppressor to weaken the oppressed still  farther,  to  isolate  them,  to  create  and deepen  rifts  among themi  This is done by varied means,  from the repressive  methods of the  government bureaucracy to the forms of cultural action with which  they manipulate the people by giving them the impression that they  are being helped.  One  of the  characteristics  of oppressive  cultural  action  which is  almost never perceived by the dedicated but naive professionals who  are involved is the emphasis on a focalized view of problems rather  than  on  seeing  them  as  dimensions  of  a totality.  In  "community  development" projects  the  more  a region  or area  is  broken down  142­PAULO  FREIRE  into  "local  communities,"  without  the  study  of  these  communities  both  as totalities  in  themselves  and as parts  of another  totality  (the  area,  region,  and so forth)—which  in  its turn  is part of a still  larger  totality  (the  nation,  as  part  of  the  continental  totality)—the  more  alienation  is  intensified.  And  the  more  alienated  people  are,  the  easier  it  is  to  divide  them  and keep  them  divided.  These  focalized  forms  of  action,  by  intensifying  the  focalized  way  of  life  of  the  op­ pressed  (especially  in rural areas),  hamper  the  oppressed  from  per­ ceiving  reality  critically  and  keep  them  isolated  from  the  problems  of oppressed  women  and  men  in  other areas.17  The  same  divisive  effect  occurs  in  connection  with  the  so­called  "leadership training courses," which are (although carried out with­ out any such intention by many of their organizers) in the last analy­ sis alienating.  These courses are based on the naive assumption  that  one  can  promote  the  community  by  training  its  leaders—as  if  it  were  the parts  that promote  the whole  and not the whole which,  in  being promoted, promotes the parts. Those members of the commu­ nities  who  show  sufficient  leadership  capacities  to  be  chosen  for  these  courses  necessarily  reflect  and  express  the  aspirations  of  the  individuals of their community.  They are in harmony with the way of  living and thinking about reality which characterizes their comrades,  even  though  they  reveal  special  abilities which  give  them  the  status  of "leaders." As  soon  as they  complete  the  course  and return  to  the  community with resources they did not formerly possess, they either  use  these  resources  to  control  the  submerged  and  dominated  con­ sciousness of their comrades,  or they become  strangers in their own  communities  and  their  former  leadership  position  is  thus  threat­ ened.  In order not to lose their leadership status,  they will probably  17.  This criticism of course does not apply to actions within a dialectical  perspec­ tive,  based  on  the  understanding  of the  local  community  both  as a totality  in  itself  and  as  part  of  a larger  totality.  It  is  directed  at  those  who  do  not  realize  that  the  development  of  the  local  community  cannot  occur  except  in  the  total  context  of  which  it  is  a  part,  in  interaction  with  other  parts.  This  requirement  implies  the  consciousness  of  unity  in  diversification,  of  organization  which  channels  forces  in  dispersion,  and a clear awareness of the  necessity  to transform  reality.  This  (under­ standably)  is what  frightens  the  oppressors.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  143  tend to continue  manipulating the community,  but in a more  effi­ cient manner.  When  cultural  action,  as a totalized  and totalizing  process, ap­ proaches an entire community and not merely its leaders, the oppo­ site  process  occurs.  Either  the  former  leaders  grow  along  with  everyone else,  or they are replaced by new leaders who emerge as  a result of the new social consciousness of the community.  The oppressors do not favor promoting the community as a whole,  but rather selected leaders. The latter course, by preserving a state  of alienation,  hinders  the  emergence  of consciousness  and critical  intervention in a total reality. And without this critical intervention,  it is always difficult  to achieve the unity of the oppressed as a class.  Class  conflict  is  another  concept  which  upsets  the  oppressors,  since they do not wish to consider themselves an oppressive class.  Unable to deny, try as they may, the existence of social classes, they  preach the need for understanding and harmony between those who  buy and those  who are obliged  to sell  their labor.18  However,  the  unconcealable  antagonism  which  exists  between  the  two  classes  makes this "harmony" impossible.19 The elites call for harmony be­ 18.  Bishop  Franic  Split  refers  eloquently  to  this  point:  "If the  workers  do  not  become in some way the owners of their labor, all structural reforms will be  ineffec­ tive.  [This is true] even if the workers receive a higher salary in an economic system  but are not content with  these  raises. They want to be owners,  not sellers,  of their  labor.  . . .  At  present  the  workers  are  increasingly  aware  that  labor  represents  a  part  of  the  human  person.  A  person,  however  cannot  be  bought;  neither  can  he  sell  himself.  Any  purchase  or  sale  of  labor  is  a  type  of  slavery.  The  evolution  of  human  society  in this respect  is clearly progressing within  a system  said to be  less  responsive  than  our  own  to  the  question  of  human  dignity,  i.e.,  Marxism."  "15  Obispos  hablan en  prol del Tercer Mundo." CIDOC Informa  (Mexico,  1967),  Doc.  67/35,  pp.  1­11.  19.  With  respect  to  social  classes  and  the  struggle  between  them  (which  Karl  Marx is often accused of inventing), see Marx's letter to J. Weydemeyer dated March  1,  1852:  ".  .  .  no  credit  is  due  to  me  for  discovering  the  existence  of  classes  in  modern society or the struggle between them.  Long before me bourgeois historians  had described the historical development of this class struggle and bourgeois econo­ mists  the  economic  anatomy  of the  classes.  What  I did  that was new was  to prove:  (1)  that  the  existence  of classes  is  only  bound  up with  particular  historical  phases  in  the  development  of  production;  (2)  that  the  class  struggle  necessarily  leads  to  the  dictatorship  of  the  proletariat;  (3)  that  this  dictatorship  itself  only  constitutes  1 4 4 ' P A U L O  FREIRE  tween classes as if classes were fortuitous agglomerations of individ- uals curiously looking at a shop window on a Sunday afternoon. The only harmony which is viable and demonstrable is that found among the oppressors themselves. Although they may diverge and upon occasion even clash over group interests, they unite immediately at a threat to the class. Similarly, the harmony of the oppressed is only possible when its members are engaged in the struggle for libera- tion. Only in exceptional cases is it not only possible but necessary for both classes to unite and act in harmony; but when the emer- gency which united them has passed they willreturn to the contra- diction which defines their existence and^ which never really disappeared. All the actions of the dominant class manifest its need to divide in order to facilitate the preservation of the oppressor state. Its interference in the unions, favoring certain "representatives" of the dominated classes (who actually represent the oppressor, not their own comrades); its promotion of individuals who reveal leadership capacity and could signify a threat if they were not "softened up" in this way; its distribution of benefits to some and penalties to others: all these are ways of dividing in order to preserve the system which favors the elite. They are forms of action which exploit, directly or indirectly, one of the weak points of the oppressed: their basic insecurity. The oppressed are insecure in their duality as beings which "house" the oppressor. On the one hand, they resist her or him; on the other hand, at a certain stage in their relationship, they are attracted by him or her. Under these circumstances, the oppressors easily obtain positive results from divisive action. In addition, the oppressed know from experience the price of not accepting an "invitation" offered with the purpose of preventing their unity as a class: losing their jobs and finding their names on a "black list" signifying closed doors to other jobs is the least that can happen. Their basic insecurity is thus directly linked to the the  transition  to  the  abolition  of all classes  and  to classless  society  . . . "  Karl Marx  and  Frederick  Engels, Selected Works  (New York,  1968),  p.  679.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  • 145  enslavement  of their labor (which  really  implies  the  enslavement  of  their  person,  as Bishop  Split  emphasized).  People  are fulfilled  only to the extent that they create their world  (which is a human world), and create it with their transforming labor  The  fulfillment  of  humankind  as  human  beings  lies,  then,  in  the  fulfillment  of the  world.  If for  a person  to  be  in  the  world  of work  is to be totally dependent,  insecure,  and permanently  threatened—  if  their  work  does  not  belong  to  them—the  person  cannot  be  ful­ filled.  Work  that  is  not  free  ceases  to  be  a  fulfilling  pursuit  and  becomes  an effective  means  of  dehumanization.  Every  move by the  oppressed  towards unity points  towards other  actions;  it  means  that  sooner  or  later  the  oppressed  will  perceive  their state of depersonalization  and discover that as long as they are  divided  they will always be easy prey for manipulation  and domina­ tion.  Unity and organization  can enable  them  to change their weak­ ness  into  a  transforming  force  with  which  they  can  re­create  the  world and make it more human.20 The  more human world to which  they justly  aspire,  however,  is  the  antithesis  of the  "human  world"  of the  oppressors—a  world which  is the  exclusive  possession  of the  oppressors, who preach an impossible harmony between  themselves  (who dehumanize) and the oppressed (who are dehumanized).  Since  oppressors  and oppressed  are antithetical,  what serves the  interests  of one  group disserves  the  interests  of the  others.  Dividing  in order to preserve  the  status quo,  then,  is  necessarily  a  fundamental  objective  of  the  theory  of  antidialogical  action.  In  addition,  the  dominators  try to present  themselves  as saviors of the  women  and  men  they  dehumanize  and  divide.  This  messianism,  however,  cannot  conceal  their  true  intention:  to  save  themselves.  20.  For  this  reason  it  is  indispensable  for  the  oppressors  to  keep  the  peasants  isolated  from  the  urban  workers,  just  as  it  is  indispensable  to  keep  both  groups  isolated  from  the  students.  The  testimony  of rebellion  of the  latter (although  they  do  not  sociologically  constitute  a  class)  makes  them  dangerous  in  the  event  they  join  the people.  It is thus necessary  to convince  the  lower classes that students are  irresponsible  and disorderly,  that their  testimony  is false  because  as students  they  should be studying, just as the factory workers and the peasants should be working  towards  the  "nation's progress."  1 4 6 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  They want to save their riches, their power, their way of life: the things that enable them to subjugate others. Their mistake is that men cannot save themselves (no matter how one understands "salva- tion"), either as individuals or as an oppressor class. Salvation can be achieved only with others. To the extent, however, that the elites oppress, they cannot be with the oppressed; for being against them is the essence of oppression. A psychoanalysis of oppressive action might reveal the "false gen- erosity" of the oppressor (described in chapter 1) as a dimension of the latters sense of guilt. With this false generosity, he attempts not only to preserve an unjust and necrophilic order, but to "buy" peace for himself. It happens that peace cannot be bought; peace is experi- enced in solidary and loving acts, which cannot be incarnated in oppression. Hence, the messianic element of the theory of antidia- logical action reinforces the first characteristic of this action: the necessity for conquest. Since it is necessary to divide the people in order to preserve the status quo and (thereby) the power of the dominators, it is essential for the oppressors to keep the oppressed from perceiving their strat- egy. So the former must convince the latter that they are being "defended" against the demonic action of "marginals, rowdies, and enemies of God" (for these are the epithets directed at men who lived and are living the brave pursuit of mans humanization). In order to divide and confuse the people, the destroyers call them- selves builders, and accuse the true builders of being destructive. History, however, always takes it upon itself to modify these designa- tions. Today, although the official terminology continues to call Ti- radentes 21 a conspirator ("Inconfidente") and the libertarian movement which he led a conspiracy ("Inconjidencia"), the national hero is not the man22 who called Tiradentes a "bandit," ordered him 21. Tiradentes  was  leader  of  an  abortive  revolt  for  the  independence  of  Brazil  from  Portugal  in  1789  in  Ouro  Preto,  State  of  Minas  Gerais.  This  movement  is  historically  called  the Inconjidencia Mineira.—Translator's  note.  22.  Visconde  de  Barbacena,  royal  administrator  of  the  province.—Translators  note.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  147  hanged and quartered, and had pieces of the bloody corpse strewn  through the streets of the neighboring villages as an example.  It is  Tiradentes who is the hero. History tore up the "title" given him by  the elites,  and recognized his action for what it was. It is the men  who in their own time  sought unity for liberation who are the he­ roes—­not those who used their power to divide and rule.  Manipulation Manipulation  is  another  dimension  of the  theory  of antidialogical  action,  and,  like  the  strategy  of division,  is  an instrument  of con­ quest: the objective around which all the dimensions of the theory  revolve.  By means of manipulation,  the dominant elites try to con­ form  the  masses  to  their  objectives.  And the  greater  the  political  immaturity  of  these  people  (rural  or  urban)  the  more  easily  the  latter can be  manipulated  by those who do not wish  to lose  their  power.  The  people  are  manipulated  by  the  series  of  myths  described  earlier in this chapter, and by yet another myth: the model of itself  which the bourgeoisie  presents  to the people as the possibility for  their own ascent. In order for these myths to function, however, the  people must accept the word of the bourgeoisie.  Within  certain  historical  conditions,  manipulation  is  accom­ plished by means of pacts between the dominant and the dominated  classes—pacts which, if considered superficially,  might give the im­ pression of a dialogue between the classes. In reality, however, these  pacts are not dialogue, because their true objectives are determined  by the unequivocal interest of the dominant elites. In the last analy­ sis,  pacts are used  by the  dominators  to achieve  their own ends.23  The support given by the people to the so­called "national bourgeoi­ sie" in  defense  of  so­called  "national  capitalism" is  an example  in  23.  Pacts are only valid for the masses (and in this case they are no longer pacts)  when  the objectives of the action in process or to be developed  are subject to their  decision.  1 4 8 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  point. Sooner or later, these pacts always increase the subjugation of the people. They are proposed @nly when the people begin (even naively) to emerge from the historical process and by this emer- gence to threaten the dominant elites. The presence of the people in the historical process, no longer as mere spectators, but with the first signs of aggressivity, is sufficiently disquieting to frighten the dominant elites into doubling the tactics of manipulation. In this historical phase, manipulation becomes a fundamental in- strument for the preservation of domination. Prior to the emergence of the people there is no manipulation (precisely speaking), but rather total suppression. When the oppressed are almost completely submerged in reality, it is unnecessary to manipulate them. In the antidialogical theory of action, manipulation is the response of the oppressor to the new concrete conditions of the historical process. Through manipulation, the dominant elites can lead the people into an unauthentic type of "organization," and can thus avoid the threat- ening alternative: the true organization of the emerged and emerg- ing people.24 The latter have only two possibilities as they enter the historical process: either they must organize authentically for their liberation, or they will be manipulated by the elites. Authentic organization is obviously not going to be stimulated by the domi- nators; it is the task of the revolutionary leaders. It happens, however, that large sectors of the oppressed form an urban proletariat, especially in the more industrialized centers of the country. Although these sectors are occasionally restive, they lack revolutionary consciousness and consider themselves privi- leged. Manipulation, with its series of deceits and promises, usually finds fertile ground here. The antidote to manipulation lies in a critically conscious revolu- 24.  In  the  "organization" which  results  from  acts of manipulation,  the  people—  mere  guided  objects—are  adapted  to  the  objectives  of  the  manipulators.  In  true  organization,  the individuals are active in the organizing process, and the objectives  of the organization are not imposed  by others.  In the first case,  the organization  is a  means of "massification," in the second,  a means of liberation.  [In Brazilian political  terminology,  "massification" is the process of reducing  the people  to a manageable,  unthinking  agglomeration.—Translator]  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 149  tionary organization, which will pose to the people as problems their  position  in the historical process,  the national reality, and manipula­ tion  itself.  In  the  words  of Francisco  Weffert:  All the policies of the Left are based on the masses and depend  on. the consciousness  of the latter.  If that consciousness  is con­ fused,  the  Left  will  lose  its  roots  and certain  downfall  will  be  imminent,  although  (as in  the  Brazilian  case) the  Left  may be  deluded  into thinking it can achieve the revolution by means of  a quick return to power.25  In a situation of manipulation,  the  Left  is almost always tempted  by  a  "quick  return  to  power," forgets  the  necessity  of joining  with  the  oppressed  to  forge  an  organization,  and  strays  into  an  impossible  "dialogue" with  the  dominant  elites.  It  ends  by  being  manipulated  by  these  elites,  and not  infrequently  itself falls  into an elitist  game,  which  it calls  "realism."  Manipulation,  like  the  conquest  whose  objectives  it  serves,  at­ tempts  to  anesthetize  the  people  so  they  will  not  think.  For  if  the  people join  to their presence  in the historical  process critical  think­ ing  about  that  process,  the  threat  of  their  emergence  materializes  in revolution.  Whether one calls this correct thinking "revolutionary  consciousness"  or "class  consciousness,"  it  is  an  indispensable  pre­ condition  of revolution. The dominant elites are so well aware of this  fact that they instinctively use all means, including physical violence,  to  keep  the  people  from  thinking.  They  have  a shrewd  intuition  of  the  ability  of  dialogue  to  develop  a  capacity  for  criticism.  While  some  revolutionary  leaders  consider  dialogue  with  the  people  a  "bourgeois and reactionary" activity, the bourgeoisie regard dialogue  between  the  oppressed  and the  revolutionary  leaders  as a very  real  danger  to be  avoided.  One  of  the  methods  of  manipulation  is  to  inoculate  individuals  with the bourgeois  appetite  for personal  success.  This  manipulation  is sometimes  carried  out directly  by the  elites  and sometimes  indi­ 25.  Francisco Weffert,  "Politica de  massas," Politico e Revolugao social no Brasil (Rio de  Janeiro,  1967),  p.  187.  150­PAULO  FREIRE  rectly, through populist leaders. As Weffert  points out, these leaders  serve as intermediaries  between  the oligarchical  elites and the peo­ ple.  The  emergence  of  populism  as  a  style  of  political  action  thus  coincides  causally with  the emergence  of the oppressed.  The  popu­ list  leader  who  rises  from  this  process  is  an  ambiguous  being,  an  "amphibian"  who  lives  in  two  elements.  Shuttling  back  and  forth  between  the  people  and  the  dominant  oligarchies,  he  bears  the  marks  of both  groups.  Since  the  populist  leader  simply  manipulates,  instead  of fighting  for  authentic  popular  organization,  this  type  of  leader  serves  the  revolution  little  if at all.  Only by abandoning his ambiguous charac­ ter  and  dual  action  and  by  opting  decisively  for  the  people  (thus  ceasing to be populist) does he renounce manipulation and dedicate  himself  to  the  revolutionary  task  of  organization.  At  this  point  he  ceases to be an intermediary between  the people and the elites, and  becomes  a contradiction  of the  latter; thereupon  the elites  immedi­ ately join  forces  to curb him.  Observe  the  dramatic and finally un­ equivocal  terms  in  which  Getulio  Vargas26 spoke  to  the  workers  at  a  May  1 celebration  during  his  last  period  as head  of state:  I want  to tell  you  that  the  gigantic work of renewal  which my  Administration  is  beginning  to carry  out  cannot be  completed  successfully without the support and the daily, steadfast coopera­ tion of the workers.27  Vargas  then  spoke  of his first ninety  days  in  office,  which  he  called  "an estimate  of the  difficulties  and obstacles  which,  here  and there,  are being raised in opposition  to the actions of the government." He  spoke  directly  to  the  people  about  how  deeply  he  felt  "the  help­ lessness,  poverty,  the  high cost of living,  low salaries  .  .  .  the hope­ 26.  Getulio Vargas led the revolution which overthrew Brazilian President Wash­ ington  Luis  in  1930.  He  remained  in  power  as  a dictator  until  1945.  In  1950  he  returned  to  power as elected  president.  In August  1954,  when  the opposition  was  about  to overthrow  him,  he  committed  suicide.—Translator's  note.  27.  Speech given in Vasco da Gama Stadium on May 1,  1950, O Governo TrabaU hista no Brasil  (Rio),  pp.  322­324.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 151  lessness of the unfortunate and the demands of the majority who live iri hope of better days." His appeal to the workers then took on more objective tones: I have come to say that at this moment the Administration does not yet have the laws or the concrete instruments for immediate action to defend the peoples economy. It is thus necessary for the people to organize—not only to defend their own interests, but also to give the government the base of support it requires to carry out its objectives . . . I need your unity. I need for you, in solidarity, to organize yourselves in unions. I need for you to form a strong and cohesive bloc to stand beside the government so that it will have all the force it needs to solve your problems. I need your unity so you can fight against saboteurs, so you do not fall prey to the interests of speculators and rapacious scoundrels in detriment of the interests of the people. . . . The hour has come to appeal to the workers; unite in your unions as free and organized forces . . . at the present time no Administra- tion can survive or dispose of sufficient force to achieve its social ends if it does not have the support of the laboring organiza- tions.28 In sum, in this speech Vargas appealed vehemently to the people to organize and to unite in defense of their rights; and he told them, as Chief of State, of the obstacles, the hindrances, and the innumerable difficulties involved in governing with them. From that  moment on his Administration encountered increasing difficulties, until  the tragic climax of August 1954. If Vargas had not in his last term shown such open encouragement to the organization of the people, subsequently linked to a series of measures in defense of the national interest, possibly the reactionary elites would not have taken the extreme measures they did. Any populist leader who moves (even discreetly) towards the peo- ple in any way other than as the intermediary of the oligarchies will be curbed by the latter—if they have sufficient force to stop him. But as long as the leader restricts himself to paternalism and social 28. Ibid.  Emphasis  added.  152vPAULO FREIRE welfare activities, although there may be occasional divergencies between him and groups of oligarchies whose interests have been touched, deep differences are rare. This is because welfare programs as instruments of manipulation ultimately serve the end of conquest. They act as an anesthetic, distracting the oppressed from the true causes of their problems and from the concrete solution of these problems. They splinter the oppressed into groups of individuals hoping to get a few more benefits for themselves. This situation contains, however, a positive element: the individuals who receive some aid always want more; those who do not receive aid, seeing the example of those who do, grow envious and also want assistance. Since the dominant elites cannot "aid" everyone, they end by in- creasing the restiveness of the oppressed. The revolutionary leaders should take advantage of the contradic- tions of manipulation by posing it as a problem to the oppressed, with the objective of organizing them. Cultural Invasion The theory of antidialogical action has one last fundamental charac- teristic: cultural invasion, which like divisive tactics and manipula- tion also serves the ends of conquest. In this phenomenon, the invaders penetrate the cultural context of another group, in disre- spect of the latters potentialities; they impose their own view of the world upon those they invade and inhibit the creativity of the in- vaded by curbing their expression. Whether urbane or harsh, cultural invasion is thus always an act of violence against the persons of the invaded culture, who lose their originality or face the threat of losing it. In cultural invasion (as in all the modalities of antidialogical action) the invaders are the au- thors of, and actors in, the process; those they invade are the objects. The invaders mold; those they invade are molded The invaders choose; those they invade follow that choice—or are expected to follow it. The invaders act; those they invade have only the illusion of acting, through the action of the invaders. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 153  All  domination  involves  invasion—at  times  physical  and overt,  at  times  camouflaged,  with  the  invader assuming  the  role of a helping  friend.  In  the  last  analysis,  invasion  is  a form  of economic  and cul­ tural domination.  Invasion  may be practiced by a metropolitan  soci­ ety upon a dependent society, or it may be implicit in the domination  of one  class  over another within  the  same  society.  Cultural conquest leads to the cultural inauthenticity of those who  are invaded; they begin to respond to the values,  the standards,  and  the  goals  of  the  invaders.  In  their  passion  to  dominate,  to  mold  others  to  their  patterns  and their way of life,  the  invaders  desire  to  know  how  those  they  have  invaded  apprehend  reality—but  only  so  they  can  dominate  the  latter more  effectively.29  In cultural  invasion  it  is  essential  that  those  who  are  invaded  come  to  see  their  reality  with  the outlook of the invaders rather than their own; for the  more  they  mimic  the  invaders,  the  more  stable  the  position  of the  latter  becomes.  For cultural  invasion to succeed,  it is essential  that those  invaded  become convinced of their intrinsic inferiority.  Since everything has  its opposite,  if those  who are  invaded  consider  themselves  inferior,  they must necessarily recognize the superiority of the invaders.  The  values of the latter thereby  become  the pattern for the former.  The  more  invasion  is accentuated  and those  invaded  are alienated from  the  spirit  of  their  own  culture  and  from  themselves,  the  more  the  latter  want  to  be  like  the  invaders:  to  walk  like  them,  dress  like  them,  talk  like  them.  The  social  /  of the  invaded  person,  like  every  social  /,  is  formed  in  the  socio­cultural  relations  of  the  social  stucture,  and  therefore  reflects  the  duality  of the  invaded  culture.  This  duality  (which  was  described  earlier) explains why invaded and dominated  individuals,  29.  To  this  end,  the  invaders  are  making  increasing  use  of  the  social  sciences  and  technology,  and  to  some  extent  the  physical  sciences  as well,  to  improve  and  refine  their action.  It is indispensable for the invaders to know the past and present  of  those  invaded  in  order  to  discern  the  alternatives  of  the  latter s  future  and  thereby attempt to guide the evolution of that future along lines that will favor their  own  interests.  1 5 4 ' P A U L O  F R E I R E  at a certain moment of their existential experience, almost "adhere" to the oppressor Thou. The oppressed / must break with this near adhesion to the oppressor Thou, drawing away from the latter in order to see him more objectively, at which point she critically recognizes herself to be in contradiction with the oppressor. In so doing, he "considers" as a dehumanizing reality the structure in which he is being oppressed. This qualitative change in the percep- tion of the world can only be achieved in the praxis. Cultural invasion is on the one hand an instrument of domination, and on the other, the result of domination. Thus, cultural action of a dominating character (like other forms of antidialogical action), in addition to being deliberate and planned, is in another sense simply a product of oppressive reality. For example, a rigid and oppressive social structure necessarily influences the institutions of child rearing and education within that structure. These institutions pattern their action after the style of the structure, and transmit the myths of the latter. Homes and schools (from nurseries to universities) exist not in the abstract, but in time and space. Within the structures of domination they function largely as agencies which prepare the invaders of the future. The parent-child relationship in the home usually reflects the objective cultural conditions of the surrounding social structure. If the conditions which penetrate the home are authoritarian, rigid, and dominating, the home will increase the climate of oppression.30 As these authoritarian relations between parents and children inten- sify, children in their infancy increasingly internalize the paternal authority. 30.  Young people increasingly view parent and teacher authoritarianism as inimi­ cal  to  their  own  freedom.  For this  very  reason,  they  increasingly  oppose  forms  of  action  which  minimize  their  expressiveness  and hinder  their  self­affirmation.  This  very positive  phenomenon  is not accidental.  It is actually a symptom  of the histori­ cal climate which (as mentioned  in chapter  1) characterizes our epoch as an anthro­ pological one.  For this reason one cannot (unless he has a personal interest in doing  so) see  the youth rebellion as a mere example of the traditional differences  between  generations.  Something  deeper  is  involved  here.  Young  people  in  their  rebellion  are denouncing  and condemning  the  unjust model of a society of domination.  This  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRE SSED  • 155  Presenting (with his customary clarity) the problem of necrophilia  and biophilia,  Fromm analyzes the objective conditions which gen­ erate  each condition,  whether  in the  home  (parent­child relations  in a climate of indifference  and oppression or of love and freedom),  or in  a sociocultural  context.  If children  reared  in  an atmosphere  of lovelessness  and  oppression,  children  whose  potency  has been  frustrated,  do  not  manage  during  their  youth  to  take  the  path of  authentic  rebellion,  they  will  either  drift  into  total  indifference,  alienated  from  reality  by  the  authorities  and the  myths  the latter  have used to "shape" them; or they may engage in forms of destruc­ tive action.  The atmosphere  of the home is prolonged  in the  school,  where  the students soon discover that (as in the home) in order to achieve  some satisfaction  they must adapt to the precepts which have been  set from above. One of these precepts is not to think.  Internalizing  paternal  authority  through  the  rigid  relationship  structure emphasized by the school, these young people tend when  they become professionals  (because of the very fear of freedom in­ stilled by these relationships) to repeat the rigid patterns in which  they were miseducated. This phenomenon, in addition to their class  position, perhaps explains why so many professionals adhere to anti­ dialogical action.31 Whatever the specialty that brings them into con­ tact with the people,  they are almost unshakably convinced that it  is their mission to "give" the latter their knowledge and techniques.  They see themselves as "promotors" of the people. Their programs  of action  (which might have been prescribed by any good theorist  of oppressive action) include their own objectives, their own convic­ tions, and their own preoccupations. They do not listen to the peo­ ple,  but  instead  plan  to  teach  them  how  to  "cast  off  the  laziness  rebellion  with  its  special  dimension,  however,  is  very  recent;  society  continues  to  be  authoritarian  in character.  31.  It perhaps also explains the antidialogical  behavior of persons who,  although  convinced of their revolutionary commitment,  continue  to mistrust the people and  fear  communion  with  them.  Unconsciously,  such  persons  retain  the  oppressor  within  themselves; and because  they "house" the  master,  they fear  freedom.  156'PAULO  FREIRE  which creates underdevelopment." To these professionals,  it seems  absurd to consider the necessity of respecting the "view of the world"  held  by  the  people.  The  professionals  are  the ones  with  a "world  view." They regard as equally absurd the affirmation  that one must  necessarily consult the people when organizing the program content  of educational action. They feel  that the ignorance of the people is  so complete  that  they are unfit  for anything except  to receive  the  teachings of the professionals.  When, however, at a certain point of their existential experience,  those who have been invaded begin in one way or another to reject  this invasion (to which they might earlier have adapted), the profes­ sionals, in order to justify  their failure,  say that the members of the  invaded group are "inferior" because they are "ingrates," shiftless,"  "diseased," or of "mixed blood."  Well­intentioned  professionals  (those  who  use  "invasion" not as  deliberate  ideology  but as the expression  of their own upbringing)  eventually discover that certain of their educational failures must be  ascribed,  not  to the  intrinsic  inferiority  of the "simple men of the  people," but to the violence of their own act of invasion. Those who  make this discovery face a difficult  alternative: they feel the need to  renounce  invasion,  but  patterns  of domination  are  so  entrenched  within them that this renunciation would become a threat to their  own identities. To renounce invasion would mean ending their dual  status as dominated and dominators.  It would mean abandoning all  the myths which nourish invasion, and starting to incarnate dialogi­ cal action.  For this very reason, it would mean to cease being over or inside (as foreigners)  in order to be with (as comrades).  And so  the fear of freedom  takes hold of these men.  During this traumatic  process, they naturally tend to rationalize their fear with a series of  evasions.  The fear of freedom  is greater still in professionals who have not  yet discovered for themselves the invasive nature of their action, and  who are  told  that  their  action  is  dehumanizing.  Not  infrequently,  especially  at  the  point  of  decoding  concrete  situations,  training  course  participants  ask  the  coordinator  in  an  irritated  manner:  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  •  157  "Whqre do you think you re steering us, anyway?" The coordinator  isn't trying to "steer" them anywhere; it is just that in facing a con­ crete  Situation  as a problem,  the participants begin  to realize that  if their analysis of the situation goes any deeper they will either have  to  divest  themselves  of  their  myths,  or  reaffirm  them.  Divesting  themselves  of and renouncing  their myths represents,  at that mo­ ment,  an act of self­violence.  On the other hand,  to reaffirm  those  myths is to reveal themselves. The only way out (which functions as  a defense  mechanism) is to project onto the coordinator their own  usual practices: steering, conquering, and invading?2 This same retreat occurs,  though on a smaller scale, among men  of the people who have been ground down by the concrete situation  of oppression  and domesticated  by charity.  One of the teachers of  "Full Circle,"33 which carried out a valuable educational program in  New  York City  under  the  coordination  of Robert  Fox,  relates  the  following  incident.  A group in a New York ghetto was presented a  coded situation showing a big pile of garbage on a street corner—the  vei;y same street where the group was meeting.  One of the partici­ pants said at once, "I see a street in Africa or Latin America." "And  why  not  in  New  York?" asked  the  teacher.  "Because  we  are  the  United States and that cant happen here." Beyond a doubt this man  and  some  of  his  comrades  who  agreed  with  him  were  retreating  from  a reality  so oflFensive  to  them  that  even  to  acknowledge  that  reality was threatening.  For an alienated person,  conditioned  by a  culture of achievement and personal success,  to recognize his situ­ ation as objectively unfavorable seems to hinder his own possibilities  of success.  In the case cited, and in that of the professionals, the determining  force  of the  culture  which  develops  the  myths  men  subsequently  internalize  is  evident.  In both  cases,  the  culture  of the  dominant  class hinders  the affirmation  of men as beings of decision.  Neither  32.  See  my  "Extensao  ou  Comunicacao?" in Introduccidn a la Accidn Cultural (Santiago,  1969).  33.  Regarding  the  activities  of  this  institution,  see  Mary  Cole, Summer in the City  (New York,  1968).  158­PAULO  FREIRE  the  professionals  nor  the  discussion  participants  in  the  New  York  slums  talk and act for themselves  as active  Subjects of the  historical  process.  None  of  them  are  theoreticians  or  ideologues  of  domina­ tion.  On the contrary,  they are effects  which  in turn become causes of domination.  This  is one  of the  most  serious problems  the revolu­ tion must confront when it reaches power. This stage demands maxi­ mum political wisdom,  decision,  and courage from the leaders,  who  for  this  very  reason  must  have  sufficient  judgment  not  to  fall  into  irrationally  sectarian  positions.  Professional women and men of any specialty, university graduates  or not,  are individuals who have been "determined from above"34 by  a culture  of domination  which  has constituted  them as dual beings.  (If  they  had  come  from  the  lower  classes  this  miseducation  would  be  the  same,  if not worse.) These  professionals,  however,  are neces­ sary to the reorganization of the new society.  And since many among  them—even  though  "afraid  of freedom" and  reluctant  to engage  in  humanizing  action—are  in  truth  more  misguided  than  anything  else,  they  not  only  could  be,  but  ought  to  be,  reclaimed  by  the  revolution.  This  reclamation  requires  that  the  revolutionary  leaders,  pro­ gressing from what was previously  dialogical  cultural action,  initiate  the  "cultural  revolution." At  this  point,  revolutionary  power  moves  beyond  its  role  as a necessary  obstacle  confronting  those  who  wish  to negate  humanity,  and assumes  a new and bolder position,  with a  clear invitation  to  all who wish  to participate  in  the  reconstruction  of society.  In this sense,  "cultural revolution" is a necessary  continu­ ation  of  the  dialogical  cultural  action  which  must  be  carried  out  before  the  revolution  reaches  power.  "Cultural  revolution" takes  the  total  society  to be  reconstructed,  including  all human  activities,  as the  object of its remolding action.  Society cannot be reconstructed in a mechanistic fashion; the culture  which  is culturally  recreated  through  revolution  is the  fundamental  instrument  for this reconstruction.  "Cultural revolution" is the revo­ 34.  See Louis Althusser, Pour Marx (Paris, 1967), in which he dedicates an entire  chapter to "la dialectique de la surdttermination" PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  159  lutionary  regime's  maximum  effort  at conscientizagdo—it  should  reach  everyone,  regardless  of their personal  path.  Cohsequently,  this  effort  at conscientizagdo  cannot  rest  content  with  the  technical  or scientific  training of intended  specialists.  The  new  society  becomes  qualitatively  distinct  from  the  old35 in  more  than a partial way. Revolutionary society cannot attribute to technol­ o g y  the  same  ends  attributed  by  the  previous  society;  accordingly,  the training of people  in the two societies must also differ.  Technical  and scientific  training need  not be  inimical to humanistic  education  as long as science  and technology  in the  revolutionary  society are at  the  service  of permanent  liberation,  of humanization.  From this point of view, the training of individuals for any occupa­ tion  (since  all  occupations  occur  in  time  and  space)  requires  the  understanding of (a) culture as a superstructure which  can  maintain  "remnants" of the past36 alive in the substructure undergoing revolu­ tionary transformation  and (b) the occupation  itself as an instrument  for the transformation  of culture.  As the cultural revolution  deepens  conscientizagdo  in the creative  praxis of the new society,  people  will  begin  to perceive  why  mythical  remnants  of the  old  society  survive  in  the  new.  And  they  will  then  be  able  to  free  themselves  more  rapidly  of  these  specters,  which  by  hindering  the  edification  of a  new  society  have  always  constituted  a  serious  problem  for  every  revolution.  Through  these  cultural  remnants  the  oppressor  society  continues  to  invade—this  time  invading  the  revolutionary  society  itself.  This  invasion  is  especially  terrible  because  it  is  carried  out  not  by  the  dominant  elite  reorganized  as  such,  but  by  those  who  have  participated  in  the  revolution.  As  men  who  "house" the  oppressor,  they  resist  as  might  the  latter  themselves  the  further  basic  steps  which the revolution  must take.  And as dual beings they also accept  (still due to the remnants) power which becomes bureaucratized and  which  violently  represses  them.  In  turn,  this  violently  repressive  35.  This  process,  however,  does  not  occur  suddenly,  as  mechanistic  thinkers  naiVely assume.  36.  Althusser, op. cit. 160 ; PAULO FREIRE bureaucratic power can be explained by what Althusser calls the "reactivation of old elements"3^in the new society each time special circumstances permit. For all the above reasons, I interpret the revolutionary process as dialogical cultural action which is prolonged in "cultural revolution" once power is taken. In both stages a serious and profound effort at conscientizagdo—by means of which the people, through a true praxis, leave behind the status of objects to assume the status of historical Subjects—is necessary. , Finally, cultural revolution develops the practice of permanent dialogue between leaders and people, and consolidates the partici- pation of the people in power. In this way, as both leaders and people continue their critical activity, the revolution will more easily be able to defend itself against bureaucratic tendencies (which lead to new forms of oppression) and against "invasion" (which is always the same). The invadur—whether in a bpurgeois or in a revolutionary society—may be an agronomist or a sociologist, an economist or a public health engineer, a priest or a pastor, an educator or a social worker—or a revolutionary. Cultural invasion, which serves the ends of conquest and the preservation of oppression, always involves a parochial view of real- ity, a static perception of the world, and the imposition of one world view upon another. It implies the "superiority" of the invader and the "inferiority" of those who are invaded, as well as the imposition of values by the former, who possess the latter and are afraid of losing them. Cultural invasion further signifies that the ultimate seat of deci- sion regarding the action of those who are invaded lies not with them but with the invaders. And when the power of decision is located outside rather than within the one who should decide, the latter has only the illusion of deciding. This is why there can be no socio-economic development in a dual, "reflex," invaded society. For 37. On this matter, Althusser comments "Cette reactivation serait proprement inconcevable dans une dialectique depourvue de sur'determination" Althusser, op. cit., p. 116. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  161  development  to  occur  it  is  necessary:  a) that  there  be  a  movement  of  search  and  creativity  having  its  seat  of decision  in  the  searcher;  b) that1 this  movement  occur not only in space,  but in the  existential  time  of the  conscious  searcher.  Thus,  while all development  is transformation,  not all transforma­ tion  is development.  The  transformation  occurring  in a seed  which  under  favorable  conditions  germinates  and  sprouts,  is  not  develop­ ment.  In the  same way, the  transformation  of an animal is not devel­ opment.  The  transformations  of  seeds  and animals  are  determined  by the  species  to which  they belong; and they occur in a time which  does  not  belong  to  them,  for time  belongs  to  humankind  Women  and  men,  among  the  uncompleted  beings,  are  the  only  ones  which  develop.  As  historical,  autobiographical,  "beings  for  themselves," their transformation  (development) occurs in their own  existential  time,  never  outside  it.  Men  who  are  submitted  to  con­ crete  conditions  of oppression  in which  they become  alienated "be­ ings  for  another"  of  the  false  "being  for  himself"  on  whom  they  depend,  are not able to develop authentically.  Deprived of their own  power of decision,  which  is located in the oppressor,  they follow  the  prescriptions  of  the  latter.  The  oppressed  only  begin  to  develop  when,  surmounting the contradiction  in which they are caught,  they  become  "beings  for  themselves."  If we  consider  society  as a being,  it is obvious  that only a society  which  is  a "being  for  itself" can  develop.  Societies  which  are  dual,  "reflex," invaded,  and dependent on the metropolitan society cannot  develop  because  they  are  alienated;  their  political,  economic,  and  cultural decision­making power is located outside themselves,  in the  invader society.  In the last analysis, the latter determines the destiny  of the  former:  mere  transformation;  for  it  is  their  transformation—  not  their  development—that  is  to  the  interest  of  the  metropolitan  society.  It  is  essential  not  to  confuse  modernization  with  development.  The  former,  although  it  may  affect  certain  groups  in  the  "satellite  society," is almost  always induced; and it is the metropolitan  society  which derives the true benefits therefrom.  A society which is merely  modernized  without  developing will continue—even  if it takes over  162-PAULO FREIRE some  minimal  delegated powers of decision—to depend  on the out­ side  country.  This  is  the fate  of any dependent  society,  as long as it  remains  dependent.  In order to determine whether or not a society is developing,  one  must  go  beyond  criteria  based  on  indices  of  "per  capita"  income  (which,  expressed  in statistical form,  are misleading) as well as those  which concentrate  on the  study of gross income.  The basic,  elemen­ tary  criterion  is  whether  or  not  the  society  is  a "being  for  itself."  If  it  is  not,  the  other  criteria  indicate  modernization  rather  than  development.  The  principal  contradiction  of dual societies  is the  relationship of  dependency  between  them  and  the  metropolitan  society.  Once  the  contradiction  has  been  superseded,  the  transformation  hitherto  ef­ fected  through  "aid," which  has primarily  benefitted  the  metropoli­ tan  society,  becomes  true  development,  which  benefits  the  "being  for  itself."  For  the  above  reasons,  the  purely  reformist  solutions  attempted  by  these  societies  (even  though  some  of  the  reforms  may  frighten  and  even  panic  the  more  reactionary  members  of the  elite  groups)  do  not  resolve  their  external  and  internal  contradictions.  Almost  always the  metropolitan  society  induces  these  reformist  solutions in  response  to  the  demands  of the  historical  process,  as a new  way of  preserving  its  hegemony.  It  is  as  if  the  metropolitan  society  were  saying:  "Let  us  carry  out  reforms  before  the  people  carry  out  a  revolution." And in order to achieve this goal,  the metropolitan  soci­ ety  has  no  options  other  than  conquest,  manipulation,  economic  and  cultural  (and  sometimes  military)  invasion  of  the  dependent  society—an  invasion  in  which  the  elite  leaders  of  the  dominated  society  to  a large  extent  act  as  mere  brokers  for  the  leaders  of  the  metropolitan  society.  To close  this  tentative  analysis  of the  theory  of antidialogical  ac­ tion,  I wish  to  reaffirm  that  revolutionary  leaders  must  not  use  the  same  antidialogical  procedures  used  by  the oppressors; on  the con­ trary,  revolutionary  leaders  must  follow  the  path  of dialogue  and of  communication.  Before  proceeding  to analyze  the  theory  of dialogical  action,  it is  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 163  essential to discuss briefly how the revolutionary leadership group is formed, and some of the historical and sociological consequences for the revolutionary process. Usually this leadership group is made up of men and women who in one way or another have belonged to the social strata of the dominators. At a certain point in their existen- tial experience, under certain historical conditions, these leaders renounce the class to which they belong and join the oppressed, in an act of true solidarity (or so one would hope). Whether or not this adherence results from a scientific analysis of reality, it represents (when authentic) an act of love and true commitment.38 Joining the oppressed requires going to them and communicating with them. The people must find themselves in the emerging leaders, and the latter must find themselves in the people. The leaders who have emerged necessarily reflect the contradic- tion of the dominant elites communicated to them by the oppressed, who may not yet, however, clearly perceive their own state of oppres- sion or critically recognize their relationship of antagonism to the oppressors.39 They may still be in the position previously termed "adhesion" to the oppressor. On the other hand, it is possible that due to certain objective historical conditions they have already reached a relatively clear perception of their state of oppression. In the first case, the adhesion—or partial adhesion—of the people to the oppressor makes it impossible for them (to repeat Fanon s point) to locate him outside themselves. In the second case, they can locate the oppressor and can thus critically recognize their rela- tionship of antagonism to him. In the first case, the oppressor is "housed" within the people, and their resulting ambiguity makes them fearful of freedom. They re- sort (stimulated by the oppressor) to magical explanations or a false 38.  The  thoughts  of Guevara on this subject  are cited  in the  preceding  chapter,  German  Guzman  says of Camilo Torres: ".  .  .  he  gave  everything.  At all  times  he  maintained a vital posture of commitment to the people—as a priest, as a Christian,  and as a revolutionary." Translated from German Guzman, Camilo—El Cura Guer- rillero  (Bogata\  1967),  p.  5.  39.  "Class necessity" is one  thing; "class consciousness" is another.  164-PAULO FREIRE view  of  God,  to  whom  they  fatalistically  transfer  the  responsibility  for  their  oppressed  state.40 It  is extremely  unlikely  that  these  self­ mistrustful,  downtrodden,  hopeless  people  will  seek  their  own  lib­ eration—an  act  of  rebellion  which  they  may  view  as  a  disobedient  violation  of  the  will  of  God,  as  an  unwarranted  confrontation  with  destiny.  (Hence,  the oft­emphasized  necessity of posing as problems the  myths fed  to the  people  by the  oppressors.)  In the  second case,  when  the  people  have  reached  a relatively  clear  picture  of oppres­ sion which  leads them  to localize the  oppressor outside  themselves,  they  take  up  the  struggle  to  surmount  the  contradiction  in  which  they  are  caught.  At  this  moment  they  overcome  the  distance  be­ tween  "class  necessity" and "class  consciousness,"  In the first case, the revolutionary leaders unfortunately and invol­ untarily become  the contradiction of the people.  In the second case,  the  emerging  leaders  receive  from  the  people  sympathetic  and al­ most  instantaneous  support,  which  tends  to  increase  during  the  process  of  revolutionary  action.  The  leaders  go  to  the  people  in  a  spontaneously  dialogical  manner.  There  is  an  almost  immediate  empathy  between  the  people  and  the  revolutionary  leaders:  their  mutual  commitment  is  almost  instantly  sealed.  In  fellowship,  they  consider  themselves  co­equal  contradictions  of the  dominant  elites.  From  this  point  on,  the  established  practice  of  dialogue  between  people and leaders is nearly unshakable. That dialogue will continue  when  power  is  reached;  and  the  people  will  know  that they  have  come  to power.  This  sharing  in no way diminishes  the  spirit of struggle,  courage,  capacity  for  love,  or  daring  required  of  the  revolutionary  leaders.  Fidel  Castro  and  his  comrades  (whom  many  at  the  time  termed  "irresponsible  adventurers"),  an  eminently  dialogical  leadership  group,  identified  with  the  people  who endured  the brutal  violence  40. A Chilean priest of high intellectual and moral caliber visiting Recife in 1966 told me: "When a Pernambucan colleague and I went to see several families living in shanties [mocambos] in indescribable poverty, I asked them how they could bear to live like that, and the answer was always the same: 'What can I do? It is the will  of God and  I must accept it'." PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  165  of the Batista dictatorship. This adherence was not easy; it required  bravery on the part of the leaders to love the people sufficiently  to  be willing to sacrifice  themselves for them.  It required courageous  witness by the leaders to recommence after each disaster, moved by  undying  hope  in  a future  victory  which  (because  forged  together  with the people) would belong not to the leaders alone, but to the  leaders and the people—or to the people, including the leaders.  Fidel  gradually  polarized  the  adherence  of  the  Cuban  people,  who due to their historical experience  had already begun to break  their adhesion  to the oppressor.  This "drawing away" from the op­ pressor led  the  people  to objectify  him,  and to see  themselves as  his contradiction.  So it was that Fidel never entered into contradic­ tion with the people.  (The occasional desertions or betrayals regis­ tered  by  Guevara  in  his Relato de la Guerra Rewlucionaria—in  which  he  also  refers  to  the  many  who  adhered—were  to  be  ex­ pected.)  Thus,  due to certain historical conditions,  the movement by the  revolutionary  leaders  to  the  people  is  either  horizontal—so  that  leaders  and people  form one body  in contradiction  to the oppres­ sor—or it is triangular, with the revolutionary leaders occupying the  vertex of the triangle in contradiction  to the oppressors and to the  oppressed as well. As we have seen, the latter situation is forced on  the leaders when the people have not yet achieved a critical percep­ tion of oppressive reality.  Almost never, however, does a revolutionary leadership group per­ ceive  that it constitutes a contradiction  to the people.  Indeed,  this  perception  is  painful,  and  the  resistance  may  serve  as  a  defense  mechanism.  After all,  it is not easy for leaders who have emerged  through adherence to the oppressed to recognize themselves as be­ ing  in  contradiction  with  those  to  whom  they  adhered  It  is  im­ portant  to recognize  this reluctance  when  analyzing certain forms  of behavior on  the  part of revolutionary  leaders  who involuntarily  become a contradiction (although not antagonists) of the people.  In  order  to  carry  out  the  revolution,  revolutionary  leaders  un­ doubtedly require the adherence of the people. When leaders who  166-PAULO FREIRE constitute  a  contradiction  to  the  people  seek  this  adherence,  and  find rather  a certain  aloofness  and  mistrust,  they  often  regard  this  reaction  as  indicating  an  inherent  defect  on  the  part of the  people.  They interpret a certain historical moment of the peoples conscious­ ness as evidence of their intrinsic deficiency.  Since the leaders  need  the  adherence  of the  people  so that  the  revolution  can  be  achieved  (but  at  the  same  time  mistrust  the  mistrustful  people),  they  are  tempted  to utilize the same procedures  used by the dominant  elites  to oppress.  Rationalizing  theiir lack of confidence  in the  people,  the  leaders  say that  it  is  impossible  to dialogue  with  the  people  before  taking  power,  thus  opting  for  the  antidialogical  theory  of  action.  Thenceforward—just  like  the  dominant  elites:—they  try to  conquer  the people: they become messianic; they use manipulation and carry  out  cultural  invasion.  By  advancing  along  these  paths,  the  paths  of  oppression,  they will not achieve revolution; or if they do, it will  not  be  authentic  revolution.  The  role  of  revolutionary  leadership  (under  any  circumstances,  but  especially  so  in  those  described)  is  to  consider  seriously,  even  as  they  act,  the  reasons  for  any  attitude  of  mistrust  on  the  part  of  the people,  and to seek  out  true avenues of communion  with  them,  ways  of  helping  the  people  to  help  themselves  critically  perceive  the  reality  which  oppresses  them.  The  dominated  consciousness  is dual,  ambiguous,  full  of fear and  mistrust.41 In his diary about the struggle in Bolivia,  Guevara refers  several  times  to the  lack of peasant  participation:  The peasant  mobilization  does not exist,  except for informative  duties which annoy us  somewhat.  They are neither  very rapid  nor very efficient;  they can be  neutralized.  .  .  .  Complete lack  of incorporation  of the  peasants,  although they are losing their  fear of us and we are succeeding in winning their admiration. It  is a slow and patient task.42  41. On this point, see Erich Fromm, 'The Application of Humanist Psychoanaly- sis to Marxist Theory/' in Socialist Humanism (New York, 1966); and Reuben Os- born, Marxism and Psychoanalysis (London, 1965). 42. Che Guevara, The Secret Papers of a Revolutionary: The Diary of Che Guevara  (The Ramparts Edition, 1968), pp. 105-106, 120. PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  O P P R E S S E D  •  167  The internalization of the oppressor by. the dominated consciousness  of the peasants explains their fear and their  inefficiency.  The behavior and reactions of the oppressed, which lead the op­ pressor to practice cultural invasion,  should evoke from the  revolu­ tionary a different theory of action. What distinguishes revolutionary  leaders  from  the dominant  elite  is not only  their  objectives, but  their procedures. If they act in the same way, the objectives become  identical.  It is as self­contradictory  for the dominant  elites to pose  human­world  relations  as problems  to the people  as it is for  the  revolutionary leaders not to do so.  Let  us now analyze  the theory  of dialogical  cultural  action and  attempt to apprehend its constituent elements.  J Cooperation In the theory of antidialogical action, conquest (as its primary char­ acteristic)  involves  a  Subject  who conquers  another  person and  transforms  her or him into  a "thing." In the dialogical  theory of  action, Subjects meet in cooperation in order to transform the world.  The  antidialogical,  dominating  /  transforms  the dominated,  con­ quered thou into a mere if.43 The dialogical /,  however, knows that  it  is precisely  the thou ("not­/") which  has called  forth  his or  her  own existence. He also knows that the thou which calls forth his own  existence in turn constitutes an / which has in his / its thou. The /  and the thou thus become,  in the dialectic of these  relationships,  two thous which become two Vs. The  dialogical  theory  of action does not involve a Subject, who  dominates by virtue of conquest,  and a dominated object.  Instead,  there are Subjects who meet to name the world in order to transform  it.  If at a certain historical moment the oppressed,  for the reasons  previously described, are unable to fulfill their vocation as Subjects,  the posing of their very oppression as a problem (which always in­ volves some form of action) will help them achieve this vocation.  43.  See Martin  Buber,  / and Thou (New York,  1958).  168'PAULO FREIRE The above does not mean that in the dialogical task there is no role for revolutionary leadership. It means merely that the, leaders— in spite of their important, fundamental, and indispensable role—do not own the people and have no right to steer the people blindly towards their salvation. Such a salvation would be a mere gift from the leaders to the people—a breaking of the dialogical bond be- tween them, and a reducing of the people from co-authors of liberat- ing action into the objects of this action. Cooperation, as a characteristic of dialogical action—which occurs only among Subjects (who may, however, have diverse levels of func- tions and thus of responsibility)—can only be achieved through com- munication. Dialogue, as essential communication, must underlie any cooperation. In the theory of dialogical action, there is no place for conquering the people on behalf of the revolutionary cause, but only for gaining their adherence. Dialogue does not impose, does not manipulate, does not domesticate, does not "sloganize." This does not mean, however, that the theory of dialogical action leads nowhere; nor does it mean that the dialogical human does not have a clear idea of what she wants, or of the objectives to which she is committed The commitment of the revolutionary leaders to the oppressed is at the same time a commitment to freedom. And because of that commitment, the leaders cannot attempt to conquer the oppressed, but must achieve their adherence to liberation. Conquered adher- ence is not adherence; it is "adhesion" of the vanquished to the conqueror, who prescribes the options open to the former. Authen- tic adherence is the free coincidence of choices; it cannot occur apart from communication among people, mediated by reality. Thus cooperation leads dialogical Subjects to focus their attention on the reality which mediates them and which—posed as a problem —challenges them. The response to that challenge is the action of dialogical Subjects upon reality in order to transform it. Let me re- emphasize that posing reality as a problem does not mean sloganiz- ing: it means critical analysis of a problematic reality. As opposed to the mythicizing practices of the dominant elites, PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 169  dialogical  theory requires that the world be unveiled  No one can,  however,  unveil  the  world for  another.  Although  one  Subject may  initiate  the unveiling on behalf of others,  the others must also be­ come  Subjects  of  this  act.  The  adherence  of  the  people  is  made  possible by this unveiling of the world and of themselves, in authen­ tic praxis.  This adherence coincides with the trust the people begin to place  in themselves  and in the revolutionary  leaders,  as the former per­ ceive the dedication and authenticity of the latter. The trust of the  people  in the  leaders  reflects  the confidence  of the  leaders  in the  people.  This confidence  should not, however, be naive. The leaders must  believe  in the potentialities  of the people,  whom they cannot treat  as  mere  objects  of  their  own  action;  they  must  believe  that  the  people are capable of participating in the pursuit of liberation. But  they must always mistrust the ambiguity of oppressed people, mis­ trust the oppressor "housed" in the latter. Accordingly, when Guev­ ara exhorts  the  revolutionary  to be  always  mistrustful,44  he  is not  disregarding  the  fundamental  condition  of the  theory  of dialogical  action.  He is merely being a realist.  Although trust is basic to dialogue, it is not an a priori condition  of the latter; it results from the encounter in which persons are co­ Subjects in denouncing the world, as part of the world's transforma­ tion. But as long as the oppressor "within" the oppressed is stronger  than  they  themselves  are,  their  natural  fear  of freedom  may lead  them  to  denounce  the  revolutionary  leaders  instead! The  leaders  cannot be credulous, but must be alert for these possibilities. Guev­ ara's Episodes confirms  these  risks: not  only  desertions,  but even  betrayal of the cause. At times in this document, while recognizing  the  necessity  of  punishing  the  deserter  in  order  to  preserve  the  44.  Guevara to El Patojoy a young  Guatemalan  leaving  Cuba to engage  in  guer­ rilla activity  in his own country: "Mistrust: at the beginning,  do not trust your own  shadow;  never  trust  friendly  peasants,  informers,  guides,  or contact  men.  Do  not  trust  anything  or  anybody  until  a  zone  is  completely  liberated."  Che  Guevara,  Episodes of the Revolutionary War  (New  York,  1968),  p.  102.  1 7 0 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  cohesion and discipline of the group, Guevara also recognizes cer- tain factors which explain the desertion. One of them, perhaps the most important, is the deserters ambiguity. Another portion of Guevara s document, which refers to his pres- ence (not only as a guerrilla but as a medical doctor) in a peasant community in the Sierra Maestra and relates to our discussion of cooperation, is quite striking: As a result of daily contact with these people and their problems we became firmly convinced of the need for a complete change in the life of our people. The idea of an agrarian reform became crystal-clear. Communion with the people ceased to be a mere theory, to become an integral part of ourselves. Guerrillas and peasants began to merge into a solid mass. No one can say exactly when, in this long process, the ideas became reality and we became a part of the peasantry. As far as I am concerned, the contact with my patients in the Sierra turned a spontaneous and somewhat lyrical decision into a more serene force, one of an entirely different value. Those poor, suffering, loyal inhabitants of the Sierra cannot even imagine what a great contribution they made to the forging of our revolutionary ide- ology*5 Note Guevara's emphasis that communion with the people was decisive for the transformation of a "spontaneous and somewhat lyri- cal decision into a more serene force, one of an entirely different value." It was, then, in dialogue with the peasants that Guevaras revolutionary praxis became definitive. What Guevara did not say, perhaps due to humility, is that it was his own humility and capacity to love that made possible his communion with the people. And this indisputably dialogical communion became cooperation. Note that Guevara twho did not climb the Sierra Maestra with Fidel and his comrades as a frustrated youth in search of adventure) recognizes that his "communion with the people ceased to be a mere theory, to become an integral part of [himself]." He stresses how from the 45. Ibid., pp. 56­57.  Emphasis added.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  •  171  moment  of  that communion  the  peasants  became  "forgers"  of  his  guerrillas' "revolutionary  ideology."  Even  Guevara's  unmistakable  style  of narrating his  and  his  com­ rades  experiences,  of describing  his  contacts  with  the  "poor,  loyal"  peasants  in  almost  evangelical  language,  reveals  this  remarkable  mans  deep  capacity  for  love  and  communication.  Thence  emerges  the force of his ardent testimony  to the work of another loving man:  Camilo Torres,  "the guerrilla  priest."  Without  the  communion  which  engenders  true  cooperation,  the  Cuban  people  would  have  been  mere  objects  of  the  revolutionary  activity of the men of the Sierra Maestra, and as objects, their adher­ ence  would  have  been  impossible.  At  the  most,  there  might  have  been  "adhesion," but  that  is  a component  of domination,  not  revo­ lution.  In  dialogical  theory,  at  no  stage  can  revolutionary  action  forgo  communion  with  the  people. Communion  in  turn  elicits coopera- tion,  which  brings  leaders  and  people  to  the fusion  described  by  Guevara.  This  fusion  can  exist  only  if revolutionary  action  is  really  human,  empathetic,  loving,  communicative,  and  humble,  in  order  to be  liberating,  The  revolution  loves and creates life; and in order to create life  it  may  be  obliged  to  prevent  some  men  from  circumscribing  life.  In  addition  to  the  life­death  cycle  basic  to  nature,  there  is  almost  an  unnatural living death:  life  which  is denied  its  fullness.46  It should not be necessary here to cite statistics to show how many  Brazilians  (and  Latin  Americans  in  general)  are  "living  corpses,"  "shadows" of  human  beings,  hopeless  men,  women,  and  children  victimized  by  an  endless  "invisible  war"47 in which  their  remnants  46.  With  regard  to  man's  defenses  against  his  own  death,  following  the  "death  of God," in current  thought,  see  Mikel  Dufrenne, Pour LHomme  (Paris,  1968).  47.  "Many  [peasants]  sell  themselves  or  members  of their  families  into  slavery  to escape [starvation]. One Belo Horizonte newspaper discovered as many as 50,000  victims  (sold  for  $1,500,000),  and  one  reporter,  to  prove  it,  bought  a man  and  his  wife  for  $30.  'I  have  seen  many  a  good  man  starve,'  explained  the  slave;  4that  is  why  I did  not  mind  being  sold.' When  one  slave  dealer was arrested  in  Sao  Paulo  in  1959,  he  admitted  having contacts  with  Sao  Paulo ranchers,  coffee  plantations,  1 7 2 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  of life are devoured by tuberculosis, schistosomiasis, infant diarrhea . . . by the myriad diseases of poverty (most of which, in the termi- nology of the oppressors, are called "tropical diseases"). Father Chenu makes the following comments regarding possible reactions to situations as extreme as the above: Many, both among the, priests attending the Council and the informed laymen, fear that in facing the needs and suffering of the world we may simply adopt an emotional protest in favor of palliating the manifestations and symptoms of poverty and in- justice without going on to analyze the causes of the latter, to denounce a regime which encompasses this injustice and engen- ders 'his poverty.48 Unity for Liberation Whereas in the antidialogical theory of action the dominators are compelled by necessity to divide the oppressed, the more easily to preserve the state of oppression, in the dialogical theory the leaders must dedicate themselves to an untiring effort for unity among the oppressed—and unity of the leaders with the oppressed—in order to achieve liberation. The difficulty is that this category of dialogical action (like the others) cannot occur apart from the praxis. The praxis of oppression is easy (or at least not difficult) for the dominant elite; but it is not easy for the revolutionary leaders to carry out a liberating praxis. The former group can rely on using the instruments of power; the latter group has this power directed against it. The former group can organize itself freely, and though it may undergo fortuitous and momentary divisions, it unites rapidly in the face of any threat to its fundamental interests. The latter group cannot exist without the and  construction  projects  for his  commodity—except  teenage  girls  who were  sold  to brothels." John  Gerassi, The Great Fear (New  York,  1963).  48.  M.­D.  Chenu, Temoignage Chretien,  April  1964,  as cited  by  Andre  Moine,  in Christianos y Marxistas despue's del Concilio  (Bueno  Aires,  1965),  p.  167.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 173  people,  and this  very  condition  constitutes  the first obstacle  to its  efforts  at organization.  It would indeed be inconsistent of the dominant elite to allow the  revolutionary leaders to organize. The internal unity of the dominant  elite,  which  reinforces  and  organizes  its  power,  requires  that  the  people be divided; the unity of the revolutionary leaders only exists  in the unity of the people among themselves and in turn with them.  The  unity of the elite  derives  from  its antagonism  with the people;  the  unity  of the  revolutionary  leadership  group  grows  out of com- munion with  the (united)  people.  The concrete  situation of oppres­ sion—which  dualizes  the I  of the  oppressed,  thereby  making  the  oppressed  person  ambiguous,  emotionally  unstable,  and fearful  of  freedom—facilitates  the divisive  action of the dominator by hinder­ ing  the unifying  action  indispensable  to liberation.  Further,  domination  is itself objectively  divisive.  It maintains the  oppressed I in a position  of "adhesion" to a reality which  seems all­ powerful and overwhelming, and then alienates by presenting myste­ rious forces to explain this power. Part of the oppressed / is located in  the reality to which it "adheres"; part is located outside the self, in the  mysterious forces which are regarded as responsible for a reality about  which  nothing  can be  done.  The  individual  is divided  between  an  identical past and present,  and a future without hope.  He or she is a  person who does not perceive himself or herself as becoming; hence  cannot have a future to be built in unity with others.  But as he or she  breaks this "adhesion" and objectifies the reality from which he or she  starts  to emerge,  the person  begins  to integrate  as a Subject  (an /)  confronting  an object  (reality).  At this  moment,  sundering  the false  unity of the divided self,  one becomes a true individual.  To divide  the oppressed,  an ideology  of oppression  is indispensa­ ble.  In  contrast,  achieving  their  unity  requires  a  form  of  cultural  action  through  which  they  come  to know the why  and how of their  adhesion  to  reality—it  requires  de­ideologizing.  Hence,  the  effort  to  unify  the oppressed  does  not call for mere  ideological  "sloganiz­ ing." The  latter,  by  distorting  the  authentic  relation  between  the  Subject  and  objective  reality,  also  separates  the cognitive,  the af- fective,  and the active  aspects  of the total,  indivisible  personality.  1 7 4 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  The  object  of  dialpgical­libertarian  action  is  not  to  "dislodge"  the  oppressed  from  a mythological  reality  in  order  to  "bind" them  to  another  reality.  On  the  contrary,  the  object  of  dialogical  action  is  to  make  it  possible  for  the  oppressed,  by  perceiving  their  adhe­ sion,  to  opt  to  transform  an unjust  reality.  Since  the  unity  of the  oppressed  involves  solidarity among them,  regardless  of  their  exact  status,  ths  unity  unquestionably  requires  class consciousness.  However,  the submersion  in reality which char­ acterizes the peasants of Latin America means that consciousness of  being an oppressed class must be preceded (or at least accompanied)  by  achieving  consciousness  of being oppressed  individuals.49  Proposing  as  a problem,  to  a European  peasant,  the  fact  that  he  or she  is  a person  might  strike  them  as strange.  This  is  not  true  of  Latin­American  peasants,  whose  world  usually  ends  at  the  bound­ aries  of  the  latifundium,  whose  gestures  to  some  extent  simulate  those  of  the  animals  and  the  trees,  and  who  often  consider  them­ selves  equal  to  the  latter.  Men  who  are  bound  to  nature  and  to  the  oppressor  in  this  way  must come  to discern  themselves  as persons  prevented  from being. And  discovering  themselves  means  in the first instance  discovering  themselves  as Pedro,  as Antonio,  or asjosefa.  This discovery  implies  a  different  perception  of  the  meaning  of  designations:  the  words  "world," "men," "culture," "tree," "work," "animal," reassume  their  true  significance.  The  peasants  now see  themselves  as  transformers  of reality  (previously  a mysterious  entity)  through  their  creative  la­ bor. They discover that—as people—they  can no longer continue  to  be "things" possessed  by others; and they can move from conscious­ ness  of themselves  as oppressed  individuals  to the consciousness  of  an oppressed  class.  Any  attempt  to  unify  the  peasants  based  on  activist  methods  49.  For  someone  to  achieve  critical  consciousness  of his  status  as an  oppressed  man requires recognition of his reality as an oppressive reality.  For this very reason,  it  requires  reaching  the "comprehension de Xessence de la society,"  which  is  for  Lukacs "un facteur de puissance de tout premier ordre, pouquoi cest meme sans doute Varme purement et simplement divisive  . . . "  Georg Lukacs, Histoire et Con- science de Classe  (Paris,  1960),  p. 93.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 175  which  rely  on  "slogans" and  do  not  deal  with  these  fundamental  aspects produces a mere juxtaposition of individuals,  giving a purely  rfiechanistic character  to  their  action.  The  unity  of  the  oppressed  occurs  at  the  human  level,  not  at  the  level  of things.  It  occurs  in a  reality  which  is  only  authentically  comprehended  in  the  dialectic  between  the  sub­ and  superstructure.  In order for the oppressed to unite,  they must first cut the umbili­ cal cord of magic and myth which binds them to the world of oppres­ sion; the unity which links them to each other must be of a different  j  nature. To achieve this indispensable unity the revolutionary process  must be,  from the beginning, cultural action.  The  methods  used to  achieve the unity of the oppressed will depend on the latters histori­ cal  and  existential  experience  within  the  social  structure.  Peasants live in a "closed" reality with a single,  compact center of  oppressive  decision;  the  urban  oppressed  live  in an expanding con­ text in which the oppressive command center is plural and complex.  Peasants are under  the control  of a dominant figure who  incarnates  the  oppressive  system; in urban  areas,  the  oppressed  are  subjected  to an "oppressive impersonality." In both cases the oppressive power  is  to  a  certain  extent  "invisible":  in  the  rural  zone,  because  of  its  proximity  to the  oppressed;  in  the  cities,  because  of its  dispersion.  Forms of cultural  action  in  such different  situations  as these  have  nonetheless  the  same  objective:  to clarify  to the  oppressed  the  ob­ jective  situation  which binds them  to the oppressors,  visible or not.  Only  forms  of action  which  avoid  mere  speech­making  and  ineffec­ tive "blah" on the  one  hand,  and mechanistic  activism  on the other,  can also oppose  the divisive  action  of the  dominant  elites  and move  towards  the  unity  of the  oppressed.  Organization In the  theory  of antidialogical  action,  manipulation  is  indispensable  to  conquest  and  domination;  in  the  dialogical  theory  of action  the  organization  of the people  presents  the antagonistic opposite  of this  176'PAULO FREIRE manipulation.  Organization  i$ not  only  directly  linked  to unity,  but  is a natural development  of that unity.  Accordingly,  the leaders  pur­ suit  of  unity  is  necessarily  also  an  attempt  to  organize  the  people,  requiring  witness  to  the  fact  that  the  struggle  for  liberation  is  a  common  task.  This  constant,  humble,  and  courageous  witness  emerging  from  cooperation  in  a  shared  effort—the  liberation  of  women  and  men—avoids  thejdanger  of  antidialogical  control.  The  form  of witness  may vary,  depending  on  the  historical  conditions  of  any  society;  witness  itself,  however,  is  an  indispensable  element  of  revolutionary  action.  In  order  to  determine  the what  and how  of  that  witness,  it  is  therefore  essential  to have an increasingly  critical  knowledge  of the  current  historical  context,  the view of the world held by the people,  the  principal  contradiction  of  society,  and  the  principal  aspect  of  that contradiction.  Since these  dimensions  of witness  are historical,  dialogical,  and  therefore  dialectical,  witness  cannot  simply  import  them  from  other  contexts  without  previously  analyzing  its  own.  To  do otherwise is to absolutize and mythologize the relative; alienation  then  becomes  unavoidable.  Witness,  in  the  dialogical  theory  of ac­ tion,  is  one  of  the  principal  expressions  of the  cultural  and  educa­ tional  character  of the  revolution.  The  essential  elements  of witness  which  do  not  vary  historically  include: consistency  between  words  and  actions; boldness  which  urges  the witnesses  to confront  existence  as a permanent  risk; radi- calization  (not sectarianism) leading both the witnesses and the ones  receiving  that  witness  to  increasing  action; courage to love (which,  far  from  being  accommodation  to  an  unjust  world,  is  rather  the  transformation  of that world in behalf of the increasing liberation  of  humankind); and faith  in the people,  since it is to them that witness  is made—although witness to the people, because of their dialectical  relations  with  the  dominant  elites,  also  affects  the  latter  (who  re­ spond  to  that witness  in  their customary way).  All  authentic  (that  is,  critical) witness  involves  the  daring  to run  risks,  including  the  possibility  that  the  leaders  will  not  always win  the  immediate  adherence  of  the  people.  Witness  which  has  not  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 177  borne fruit at a certain moment and under certain conditions is not  thereby rendered incapable of bearing fruit tomorrow. Since witness  is not an abstract gesture,  but an action—a confrontation  with the  \torld  and  with  people—it  is  not  static.  It  is  a dynamic  element  which  becomes  part  of  the  societal  context  in  which  it  occurred;  from  that moment,  it does not cease to affect  that context.50  In antidialogical action, manipulation anesthetizes the people and  facilitates  their domination; in dialogical action manipulation is su­ perseded  by  authentic  organization.  In  antidialogical  action,  ma­ nipulation  serves the ends of conquest; in dialogical action, daring  and loving witness serve the ends of organization.  For  the  dominant  elites,  organization  means  organizing  them­ selves. For the revolutionary leaders, organization means organizing  themselves with  the  people.  In the first event,  the dominant  elite  increasingly structures its power so that it can more efficiently domi­ nate  and  depersonalize;  in  the  second,  organization  only  corre­ sponds  to  its  nature  and  objective  if  in  itself  it  constitutes  the  practice  of freedom.  Accordingly,  the  discipline  necessary  to any  organization  must  not be  confused  with  regimentation.  It is  quite  true  that without leadership,  discipline,  determination,  and objec­ tives—without  tasks  to  fulfill  and  accounts  to  be  rendered—an  organization cannot survive, and revolutionary action is thereby di­ luted.  This  fact,  however,  can  never justify  treating  the  people  as  things to be used. The people are already depersonalized by oppres­ sion—if the revolutionary leaders manipulate them, instead of work­ ing towards their conscientizagdo,  the very objective of organization  (that is, liberation) is thereby negated.  Organizing the people  is the process in which the revolutionary  leaders, who are also prevented from saying their own word,51 initi­ 50.  Regarded as process,  authentic witness which does not bear immediate  fruit  cannot  Be judged  an  absolute  failure.  The  men  who  butchered  Tiradentes  could  quarter his  body,  but  they could  not  erase  his witness.  51.  Dr.  Orlando Aguirre Ortiz,  Director of a Medical  School at a Cuban univer­ sity,  once  told  me:  "The  revolution  involves  three  "P's": palavra, povo, e pdlvora [word, people, and gunpowder]. The explosion of the gunpowder clears the people s  perception  of  their  concrete  situation,  in  pursuit,  through  action,  of  their  libera­ 1 7 8 ' P A U L O  FREIRE  ate the experience of learning how to name the world. This is true learning experience, and therefore dialogical. So it is that the leaders cannot say their word alone; they must say it with the people. Lead- ers who do not act dialogically, but insist on imposing their deci- sions, do not organize the people—they manipulate them. They do not liberate, nor are they liberated: they oppress. The fact that the leaders who organize the people do not have the right to arbitrarily impose their word does not mean that they must therefore take a liberalist position which would encourage license among the people, who are accustomed to oppression. The dialogi- cal theory of action opposes both authoritarianism and license, and thereby affirms authority and freedom. There is no freedom without authority, but there is also no authority without freedom. All free- dom contains the possibility that under special circumstances (and at different existential levels) it may become authority. Freedom and authority cannot be isolated, but must be considered in relationship to each other.52 Authentic authority is not affirmed as such by a mere transfer of power, but through delegation or in sympathetic adherence. If authority is merely transferred from one group to another, or is imposed upon the majority, it degenerates into authoritarianism. Authority can avoid conflict with freedom only if it is "freedom- become-authority." Hypertrophy of the one provokes atrophy of the other. Just as authority cannot exist without freedom, and vice versa, authoritarianism cannot exist without denying freedom, nor license without denying authority. In the theory of dialogical action, organization requires authority, so it cannot be authoritarian; it requires freedom, so it cannot be licentious. Organization is, rather, a highly educational process in which leaders and people together experience true authority and tion." It  was  interesting  to  observe  how  this  revolutionary  physician  stressed  the  word  in  the  sense  it has been  used  in this essay: as action  and reflection,  as praxis.  52.  This relationship will be conflictive  if the objective situation is one of oppres­ sion  or of license.  PEDAGOGY  OF  THE  OPPRESSED  • 179  freedom,  which  they  then  seek  to  establish  in  society  by  trans­ forming  the  reality which  mediates  them.  Cultural Synthesis Cultural  action  is always a systematic  and deliberate  form  of action  which  operates  upon  the  social  structure,  either with  the  objective  of preserving that structure or of transforming it.  As a form of delib­ erate  and  systematic  action,  all cultural  action  has its  theory  which  determines its ends and thereby defines its methods.  Cultural action  either  serves  domination  (consciously  or unconsciously)  or it  serves  the  liberation  of  men  and  women.  As  these  dialectically  opposed  types  of  cultural  action  operate  in  and  upon  the  social  structure,  they  create  dialectical  relations  of permanence  and change, The social structure,  in order to be, must become; in other words,  becoming  is the way the social structure expresses "duration," in the  Bergsonian  sense  of the  term.53  Dialogical  cultural  action  does  not have as its aim the  disappear­ ance  of the  permanence­change  dialectic  (an impossible  aim,  since  disappearance  of  the  dialectic  would  require  the  disappearance  of  the  social  structure  itself  and  thus  of men); it  aims,  rather,  at  sur­ mounting  the  antagonistic  contradictions  of  the  social  structure,  thereby  achieving  the  liberation  of human beings.  Antidialogical cultural action, on the other hand, aims at mythiciz­ ing  such  contradictions,  thereby  hoping  to  avoid  (or hinder  insofar  as possible) the radical transformation of reality. Antidialogical action  explicitly  or implicitly  aims to preserve,  within  the  social structure,  situations  which  favor its own  agents.  While  the  latter would  never  accept  a transformation  of the  structure  sufficiently  radical  to over­ come its antagonistic contradictions,  they may accept reforms which  53.  What  makes  a  structure  a social  structure  (and  thus  historical­cultural)  is  neither  permanence  nor change,  taken  absolutely,  but  the  dialectical  relations  be­ tween  the  two.  In  the  last analysis,  what  endures  in the  social  structure  is  neither  permanence  nor change; it  is  the  permanence­change  dialectic  itself.  180-PAULO FREIRE do not affect  their power of decision over the oppressed.  Hence,  this  modality of action involves the conquest  of the people,  their division, their manipulation,  and cultural invasion.  It is necessarily  and fun­ damentally  an induced  action.  Dialogical  action,  however,  is charac­ terized  by  the  supersedence  of any  induced  aspect.  The  incapacity  of  antidialogical  cultural  action  to  supersede  its  induced  character  results from  its objective: domination; the capacity of dialogical cul­ tural  action  to  do  this  lies  in  its objective:  liberation.  In cultural invasion,  the actors draw the thematic content of their  action  from  their  own  values  and  ideology;  their  starting  point  is  their  own  world,  from  which  they  enter  the  world  of  those  they  invade.  In  cultural  synthesis,  the  actors  who  come  from  "another  world" to the world of the people do so not as invaders. They do not  come to teach or to transmit  or to give anything,  but rather to learn,  with  the  people,  about  the  peoples  world.  In  cultural  invasion  the  actors  (who need  not  even  go  personally  to  the  invaded  culture;  increasingly,  their  action  is  carried  out  by  technological  instruments)  superimpose  themselves  on  the  people,  who  are  assigned  the  role  of spectators,  of objects.  In  cultural  syn­ thesis,  the  actors  become  integrated  with  the  people,  who  are co­ authors  of the  action  that both  perform  upon  the world.  In  cultural  invasion,  both  the  spectators  and  the  reality  to  be  preserved  are  objects  of  the  actors'  action.  In  cultural  synthesis,  there  are no spectators; the object of the actors  action  is the  reality  to be  transformed  for the  liberation  of men.  Cultural synthesis  is thus a mode of action for confronting  culture  itself,  as the preserver of the very structures by which it was formed.  Cultural action, as historical action, is an instrument for superseding  the  dominant  alienated  and  alienating  culture.  In  this  sense,  every  authentic  revolution  is a cultural  revolution.  The investigation of the peoples generative themes or meaningful  thematics  described  in  chapter  3  constitutes  the  starting  point  for  the  process  of  action  as  cultural  synthesis.  Indeed,  it  is  not  really  possible to divide this process into two separate steps; first, thematic investigation,  and  then action as cultural synthesis.  Such  a dichot­ P E D A G O G Y OF T H E O P P R E S S E D • 181 omy would  imply  an initial  phase  in which  the  people,  as passive  objects, would be studied, analyzed, and investigated by the investi­ gators—a procedure congruent with antidialogical action. Such divi­ sion  would  lead  to  the  naive  conclusion  that  action  as  synthesis  follows from action as invasion,  In dialogical  theory,  this  division  cannot  occur.  The  Subjects of  thematic investigation are not only the professional investigators but  also the men and women of the people whose thematic universe is  being sought.  Investigation—the first moment of action as cultural  synthesis—establishes a climate of creativity which will tend to de­ velop in  the  subsequent  stages  of action.  Such a climate  does not  exist in cultural invasion, which through alienation kills the creative  enthusiasm  of those  who  are  invaded,  leaving  them  hopeless and  fearful  of risking experimentation,  without which  there  is no true  creativity.  Those  who  are  invaded,  whatever  their  level,  rarely  go beyond  the models which the invaders prescribe for them.  In cultural syn­ thesis there are no invaders; hence,  there are no imposed models.  In their stead,  there are actors who critically analyze reality (never  separating this analysis from action) and intervene as Subjects in the  historical process.  Instead  of  following  predetermined  plans,  leaders  and  people,  mutually  identified,  together  create  the  guidelines  of their action.  In this  synthesis,  leaders  and people  are  somehow  reborn  in new  knowledge and new action. Knowledge of the alienated culture leads  to transforming  action  resulting  in  a culture  which  is being freed  from  alienation. The more sophisticated knowledge of the leaders is  remade in the empirical  knowledge of the people,  while  the latter  is refined by the former.  In cultural synthesis—and only in cultural synthesis—it  is possi­ ble to resolve the contradiction between the world view of the lead­ ers  and  that  of  the  people,  to  the  enrichment  of  both.  Cultural  synthesis  does  not  deny  the  differences  between  the  two views;  indeed,  it is based on these  differences.  It does deny  the invasion of one by the other, but affirms  the undeniable support  each gives  to the other.  1 8 2 ­ P A U L O  FREIRE  Revolutionary  leaders  must  avoid  organizing  themselves  apart  from  the  people;  whatever  contradiction  to  the  people  may  occur  fortuitously,  due  to  certain  historical  conditions,  must  be  solved—  not  augmented  by  the  cultural  invasion  of an  imposed  relationship.  Cultural  synthesis  is  the  only way.  Revolutionary leaders cofrimit many errors and miscalculations by  not taking into account  something so real as the peoples view of the  world: a view which explicitly and implicitly contains their concerns,  their  doubts,  their  hopes,  their  way  of  seeing  the  leaders,  their  perceptions  of themselves  and of the  oppressors,  their religious be­ liefs  (almost  always  syncretic),  their  fatalism,  their  rebellious  reac­ tions.  None  of  these  elements  can  be  seen  separately,  for  in  interaction  all  of  them  compose  a  totality.  The  oppressor  is  inter­ ested  in knowing  this  totality  only  as an aid to his action of invasion  in order to dominate  or preserve  domination.  For the  revolutionary  leaders,  the knowledge of this totality is indispensable to their action  as cultural  synthesis.  Cultural  synthesis  (precisely  because  it  is  a synthesis)  does  not  mean  that  the  objectives  of  revolutionary  action  should  be  limited  by the  aspirations  expressed  in the world view of the  people.  If this  were to happen (in the guise of respect for that view), the revolution­ ary leaders would be passively bound to that vision.  Neither invasion  by the leaders of the people's world view nor mere adaptation by the  leaders  to  the  (often  naive)  aspirations  of the  people  is  acceptable.  To be concrete: if at a given historical moment the basic aspiration  of  the  people  goes  no  further  than  a  demand  for  salary  increases,  the leaders can commit one of two errors. They can limit their action  to  stimulating  this  one  demand54  or they  can  overrule  this  popular  aspiration  and  substitute  something  more  far­reaching—but  some­ thing which  has not  yet come  to the forefront  of the peoples  atten­ tion.  In  the  first  case,  the  revolutionary  leaders  follow  a  line  of  54.  Lenin severely attacked the tendency of the Russian Social Democratic Party  to emphasize  economic  demands  of the proletariat  as an instrument  of the revolu­ tionary  struggle,  a  practice  he  termed  "economic  spontaneity."  "What  is  to  be  Done?" in On Politics and Revolution, Selected Writings  (New York,  1968).  P E D A G O G Y OF T H E O P P R E S S E D • 183 adaptation  to the  people's  demands.  In the  second case, by disre­ specting the aspirations of the people, they fall into cultural invasion.  v The solution lies in synthesis: the leaders must on the one hand  identify with the peoples demand for higher salaries, while on the  other they must pose the meaning of that very demand as a problem.  By doing this, the leaders pose as a problem a real, concrete, histori­ cal situation  of which the  salary demand is one  dimension.  It will  thereby become clear that salary demands alone cannot comprise a  definitive  solution. The essence of this solution can be found in the  previously  cited  statement  by bishops  of the Third World that "if  the workers do not somehow come to be owners of their own labor,  all structural reforms will be ineffective  .  .  . they [must] be owners,  not sellers,  of their labor .  .  .  [for] any purchase or sale of labor is  f  a type of slavery"  To achieve critical consciousness  of the facts that it is necessary  to be the "owner of one's own labor," that labor "constitutes part of  the  human person," and that "a human being can neither be  sold  nor can  he  sell  himself" is  to  go  a step  beyond  the  deception  of  palliative  solutions.  It  is  to  engage  in  authentic  transformation  of  reality in order, by humanizing that reality, to humanize women and  men.  In the antidialogical theory of action, cultural invasion serves the  ends  of manipulation,  which  in turn  serves  the  ends  of conquest,  and conquest the ends of domination. Cultural synthesis serves the  ends of organization; organization serves the ends of liberation.  This work deals with a very obvious truth: just as the oppressor,  in  order  to  oppress,  needs  a  theory  of  oppressive  action,  so  the  oppressed,  in order to become free,  also need a theory of action.  The oppressor elaborates his theory of action without the people,  for he stands against them. Nor can the people—as long as they are  crushed and oppressed,  internalizing the image of the oppressor—  construct by themselves the theory of their liberating action. Only  in the  encounter  of the people with  the  revolutionary  leaders—in  their communion,  in their praxis—can this theory be built.