Cultural studies, education, and the apocalyptic threat of war (Vol. 44, No. 2)

The influence of militarism and war on education has long been a significant concern for Review of Education, Pedagogy, and Cultural Studies (REPCS), especially in the aftermath of the events of September 11, 2001, which saw waning Cold War imperial imaginaries revivified and repurposed for the “war on terror.” During the two decades since 9/11, a militarized culture has infiltrated education, not only through formal schooling, but bellicose public pedagogies as well. As Henry Giroux, former editor-in-chief of REPCS, has illuminated at length in his work, there is a fundamental contradiction between war and militarism, on one hand, and democratic life, on the other. Given the journal’s historical role in publishing critical scholarship concerned with the relationship between militarism, war, and education, we take the editorial stance that understanding the role of education in struggles over war and peace, imperialism and militarism, and the global prospect of democracy, equality, and justice, is crucial for cultural studies.

Beyond Giroux’s extensive work on the matter, REPCS authors have addressed the important intersections of many related topics, including the gendered implications of militarism, such as the role of masculinity in its expansion, as well as the fundamental threat militarism poses to women (Armato et al., 2013; Goodman, 2010; Hammer, 2003; Kellner, 2013); the impact of militarism on universities, schools, and youth (Armitage, 2005; Lewis, 2003); the integration of militarism and war with education policy and reform movements (Mookerjea, 2009; Nguyen, 2013; Saltman, 2006; Tamatea, 2008); and the manner in which war and militarism degrade academic freedom, higher education, and university cultures (Ivie, 2005; Ternes, 2016). There is little to suggest that the relevance of such concerns has decreased in any significant way. In fact, there have been historical developments, such as deepening crises of global capitalism, rising geopolitical conflicts, resurgent authoritarianism, further ecological ruin, and nuclear proliferation that, we would argue, heighten the stakes and the need for scholarship that addresses militarized culture, education, and the catastrophic dangers of war in our time. Moreover, education and pedagogy remain central to building capacities to understand these developments and to foster opposition to perpetual war and the existential threat it poses today.

It is no coincidence that we write this editorial just over a month into the horrific Russian invasion of Ukraine, a mid-sized country, but with no fewer than fifteen nuclear reactors, all of which are vulnerable to military incursion and indiscriminate bombing. There have been reports of fires at nuclear facilities, such as at the Chernobyl and Zaporizhzhia plants. Russia has also put its nuclear forces on alert and has made the use of tactical nuclear weapons part of its military doctrine. Cities have been leveled. Millions have already been displaced, maimed, or killed. Agriculture has been halted in the region with far-reaching consequences for global food security. Much has been said about the historical precursors that led to the war, and our aim here is not to enter those debates, but rather to consider what it indicates about the broader apocalyptic threat of war, and how cultural studies, and thereby, future work in REPCS, might intervene in this precarious conjuncture.

In broad strokes, the war in Ukraine illustrates the malign consequences of rising ultra-nationalism and authoritarianism in a period of resurgent nuclear proliferation. Authoritarianism has cultural foundations, typically refracted through racism and imperial desires, that make militarism and violence seductive as a way of life. Furthermore, treatment of the war in corporate media and public discourse reflects widespread ignorance of ongoing conflicts outside of the capitalist core, such as in Tigray or Yemen, that can effectively be ignored, rendering millions of people disposable as those wars proliferate and persist, often instigated or proceeding with the backing of major imperial powers. Such selective recognition of humanity emanates from and perpetuates militarized cultures in which the violence and devastation of war are normalized, limiting the potential sites of critical reflection and reasoned discourse concerning the prospect of peaceful futures. Finally, the apocalyptic threat of war takes on expanded meaning in the age of planetary climate crisis. The US military alone emits more carbon than many nation-states while maintaining its 800 bases globally. Even a limited nuclear exchange would wreak havoc on increasingly stressed ecologies and biospheric systems, and would generate new refugee populations, feeding anti-immigrant policies and sentiments in the many nations where far-right xenophobic nationalism is on the rise. All of this is not, of course, to suggest that struggles against war are exclusively cultural or educational, but rather that the vectors and valences of war in the present must be a priority for work in cultural analysis, educational research, and in social movements.

As a number of scholars, analysts, and journalists have claimed, the response to climate change by global elites will likely be militarized (e.g., Klare, 2019; Parenti, 2011). One could argue with warranted confidence that we are already witnessing evidence of such claims’ truth. As resources are depleted, livable environments shrink, out of touch elites insist that established systems knocked off kilter can be righted through better application of markets, technology, and weapons, and more and more authoritarian leaders insert themselves opportunistically into openings prised apart by the crises of collapsing liberal orders, wars of various sorts will likely break out with accelerating frequency. These are indeed dark times, to borrow Arendt’s phrase, and there is much to dread about the prospects of an eviscerated, “futureless future” (Goldberg, 2021).

Education is vital to challenging militarized culture and to fostering oppositional cultures and practices that struggle against the apocalyptic valences of war in the present conjuncture. Though it seems as if it is getting harder to be in denial of the existential threats posed by rampant racism, nuclear war, climate crisis, and authoritarianism and anti-democratic cultural politics, the future is not yet entirely foreclosed. Desires for peace, justice, love, and solidarity persist. What is sorely needed are educational projects oriented toward the realization of alternate futures beyond war as a way of life. Projects that face emergent catastrophes with sobriety and dignity rather than resentment, narcissism, and historical amnesia. Projects where capacities for thought, relation, joy, and action, necessary for egalitarian and sustainable political movements, are fused together, providing the basis for developing new formative cultures and social imaginaries of solidarity that see beyond the violent myopia of the present and allow us to forge new paths.

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Notes on contributors

Alexander J. Means

Alexander J. Means is Associate Professor in the Department of Educational Foundations at the University of Hawai’i at Mānoa. He studies educational policy in relation to political, economic, cultural, technological, and social change. His most recent book is Learning to Save the Future: Rethinking Education and Work in an Age of Digital Capitalism (2018). He is Editor-in-Chief of Review of Education, Pedagogy, and Cultural Studies.

Graham B. Slater

Graham B. Slater is an independent scholar living in Reno, Nevada (USA). He studies critical theory, cultural studies, and the politics of education. His recent work appears in British Journal of Sociology of Education; Cultural Studies; Educational Philosophy and Theory; and Discourse: Studies in the Cultural Politics of Education. He is Associate Editor of Review of Education, Pedagogy, and Cultural Studies.