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 Cataloging-in-Publication 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 0-8264-1276-9 (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 teacherstudent 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 revolutionary 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 important for us as for the dispossessed in Latin America.... For
this reason, I consider the publication of Pedagogy of the Oppressed 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 individual—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 important introduction by Donaldo Macedo has been added.
This revised thirtieth-anniversary edition of Pedagogy of the Oppressed 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 commemorate 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 Oppressed, 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 Pedagogy 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 existence 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 reflect on, and understand, the process through which we come to know
what it means to be at the periphery of the intimate yet fragile relationship 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 education where "men and women develop their power to perceive 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 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, including 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. Sometimes, 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 potentially 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 pseudocritical educators. His intellectual brilliance and courage in denouncing 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 experienced by those who undergo a tonsil operation or are dieting.
On the contrary, our hunger was of the type that arrives unannounced 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 experienced 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 happened 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 analyses, he never abandoned or devalued class as an important theoretical 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 important factor in our understanding of multiple forms of oppression.
While poststructuralists may want to proclaim the end of class analysis, 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 translate diverse forms of class, race, and gender based oppression to the
discursive space of subject positions/'7 He always appreciated the theoretical complexity of multifactor analyses while never underestimating 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 constitute 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 Justice 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 African Americans who, in some sense, have also partly abandoned the
subordinated mass of African Americans. I am reminded of a discussion I had with a personal friend of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., who
had joined him in the important struggle to end segregation and oppression during the 1960s. During our discussion, King's friend remarked, "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 American 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, particularly 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, including 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 problematic. Even though he has an international reputation and following, his work is, sadly, not central to the curricula of most schools of
education whose major responsibility is to prepare the next generation 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 Graduate 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 following 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 century" in the words of Herbert Kohl,9 when his graduate school pretends 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 "academic 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 educational practices often reduce his theoretical work and leading philosophical 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 oppression 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 revolutionary 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 boundaries and effect significant changes in the society as well: these educators 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 Freire'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 structured 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" discussing 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 dialogical 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 pedagogical 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 dialogical 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 curiosity 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 object of knowledge by refusing to struggle directly, for instance, with
readings involving an object of knowledge, particularly if these readings 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 fundamental. 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 intellectualism. By the same token, to negate theory for the sake of practice, 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 dialogue as conversation.12
That is, when students lack both the necessary epistemological curiosity and a certain conviviality with the object of knowledge under
study, it is difficult to create conditions that increase their epistemological 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 experiences into knowledge and to use the already acquired knowledge as
a process to unveil new knowledge, they will never be able to participate 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 students 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 becomes 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 proposal in Pedagogy of the Oppressed to move students toward "a critical 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 oppressed. 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. . . writing . . . 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 involves 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 "oppressed," you must have an "oppressor/' What would be the counterpart 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 disenfranchisement. This example is a clear case in which the object of
oppression can also be understood as the subject of oppression. Language 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 automatism, point to the jargon quality of terms such as "oppression/' "subordination," 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 attribute of "cleansing," which leads us to conjure a reality of "purification" 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 unproblematic and clear.
I am often amazed to hear academics complain about the complexity 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 meaningmaking process.
The following two examples will bring the point home: Henry Giroux and I gave a speech at Massasoit Community College in Massachusetts 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 considered functionally illiterate. After Giroux's speech, during the question-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 preparing 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 everything to do with ideology. That is, people often identify with representations 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 ideology, 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 graduate 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 Liberation," 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 theoretical 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 conflict 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 address—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 nowhere," for it is no view at all. In other words, the Assumption
of a View from Nowhere is the projection of local values as neutrally 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 referent for engaging authority is a methodological one. As a result,
Graff demeans the ability of oppressed people to name their oppression 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 radically 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 interpreted 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
INTRODUCTION ' 2 5
seeing. That is, they willfully refuse to understand that the very term
"pedagogy," as my good friend and colleague Panagiota Gounari explains 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 pedagogical 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 disarticulation of Freire's thinking from his enormous debt to a philosophical 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 becoming a populist intellectual. As always, he teaches us with his penetrating 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 witnessing 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 possibility [where] we can demystify the evil in this perverse fatalism 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 penetrating 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 coherence 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: Remembering 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 awakeningfromtheir traditional lethargy and are anxious to participate, as Subjects, in the development of their countries, 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 Mexican-Americans but also of middle-class young people 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.
30-PAULO
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 family 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 discovery of what he describes as the "culture of silence" of the dispossessed. 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 reflection that has produced something quite new and creative in educational 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 developed 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 consultant 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
hisfirstbook, 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 complexity 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 academic circles today, I am excited by a process of reflection which is
set in a thoroughly historical context, which is carried on in the
32'PAULO
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 assumption: 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 particular 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 encounter 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 teacher-student 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 development, "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 concepts of authority open the way to acute awareness of this new bondage. 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 integration 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 transformation of their world. The development of an educational methodology that facilitates this process will inevitably lead to tension and
conflict within our society. But it could also contribute to the formation 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 anarchic. 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 working-class 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.
36-PAULO
FREIRE
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 fanaticism,
The awakening of critical consciousness leads the way to the
expression of social discontents precisely because these discontents 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 presenting 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 OPPRESSE D ' 3 7
Thought and study alone did not produce Pedagogy of the Oppressed; it is rooted in concrete situations and describes the reactions of laborers (peasant or urban) and of middle-class persons
whom I have observed directly or indirectly during the course of
my educative work. Continued observation will afford me an opportunity to modify or to corroborate in later studies the points proposed in this introductory work.
This volume will probably arouse negative reactions in a number
of readers. Some will regard my position vis-a-vis the problem of
human liberation as purely idealistic, or may even consider discussion of ontological vocation, love, dialogue, hope, humility, and sympathy 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. Radicalization, 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, sectarianism, 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, unfortunately, call forth its natural counterpart: radicalization of the revolutionary. 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 objective 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 reality—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 inevitable 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 preordained. 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 imagines a "well-behaved" present and the other a predetermined future
does not mean that they therefore fold their arms and become spectators (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 received 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 revolves 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 'academicians* 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 Jovelino 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
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
l
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 dehumanization, 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 alternatives, only the first is the people's vocation. This vocation is constantly 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 civilization in judgment, denounce bureaucracies of all types, demand the transformation
of the universities (changing the rigid nature of the teacher-student 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 humanity.
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 historical 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 dehumanization, although a concrete historical fact, is not a given destiny but
the result of an unjust order that engenders violence in the oppressors, 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 oppressed: 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 oppressed 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 generosity 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 individuals or entire peoples—need be extended less and less in supplication, 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 understand 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 liberation by chance but through the praxis of their quest for it, through
their recognition of the necessity to fight for it. And this fight, because of the purpose given it by the oppressed, will actually constitute 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 become oppressors, or "sub-oppressors." 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 circumstances they cannot "consider" him sufficiently clearly to objectivize
him—to discover him "outside" themselves. This does not necessarily 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
46-PAULO
FREIRE
signify engagement in a struggle to overcome the contradiction;2 the
one pole aspires not to liberation, but to identification with its opposite 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 oppression 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 himself. 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 oppression by establishing the process of liberation, must confront this
phenomenon. Many of the oppressed who directly or indirectly participate in revolution intend—conditioned by the myths of the old
order—to make it their private revolution. The shadow of their former 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 preservers consciousness. Thus, the behavior of the oppressed is a
prescribed behavior, following as it does the guidelines of the oppressor.
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 completion.
To surmount the situation of oppression, people must first critically 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 dehumanizing 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 comradeship; they prefer the security of conformity with their state of unfreedom 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 existence, 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 re-create, 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 manifestations of dehumanization.
PEDAGOGY OF THE OPPRESSE D - 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 oppressoroppressed 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 struggle to free themselves.
The same is true with respect to the individual oppressor as a
person. Discovering himself to be an oppressor may cause considerable 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 oppres4. See Hegel, op. cit.y pp. 236-237.
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 contradiction 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 disappear 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 objective reality. Neither objectivism nor subjectivism, nor yet psychologism is propounded here, but rather subjectivity and objectivity in
constant dialectical relationship.
To deny the importance of subjectivity in the process of transforming 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 interdependence 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 reality not followed by this critical intervention will not lead to a transformation 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 objective 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 difficulties (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 Lukacs 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 continuity des experiences revolutionnaires du proletariat, mais aussi
d'activer consciemment le developpement ulterieur de ces experiences.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 "consciously activating the subsequent development of their experiences." 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 interdependent. 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 Luk£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 experience."
For us, however, the requirement is seen not in terms of explaining to, but rather dialoguing with the people about their actions. 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 upbringing, 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.
54-PAULO
FREIRE
as oppressed must be among the developers of this pedagogy. No
pedagogy which is truly liberating can remain distant from the oppressed 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 paternalism) 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 oppressors. 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 political 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 projects, 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 self-affirmation 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 individual'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 oppressed? 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 disaffection, but those who cannot love because they love only themselves. 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 "ferocious" when they react to the violence of the oppressors.
Yet it is—paradoxical though it may seem—precisely in the response 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 themselves 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 oppressoroppressed 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 oppressed—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 oppressors do not feel liberated. On the contrary, they genuinely consider 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 oppressors 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 imposed 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 ...
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