Gastronativism: Food, Identity, Politics

An excerpt from my new book Gastronativism: why reflecting on the connections between food, identity, and politics is important.

“IN MANY ways, this book has been in the making for a long time. I have been interested in international politics for many years: I studied it in college, I worked for a few years as a foreign affairs reporter, and even when I became a food writer, and then a food scholar, I continued to observe the political aspects of what we eat, how, and why. In my opinion, you cannot separate politics from food. We may enjoy reveling in memories and pastoral fantasies, celebrating flavors and traditions, and admiring the craft of chefs and artisans, but I believe there is more to food. Why has culinary nostalgia become so widespread? Why do we care about traditions? And why do chefs and artisans have plenty of customers who can understand and appreciate what they do, happy to pay a premium for it? These are profoundly political questions that I have been musing on for a long time in my research on the history and culture of food in Italy, popular culture, media, film, place-based labels, and food systems.

Such political questions have become more pressing. In recent years, I have watched countries where I live and do research (or have done research) fall into a spiral of a rabid populism, allowing the emergence of politicians that take advantage of widespread discontent to promote isolationism, conservatism, and various degrees of xenophobia. The United States, Italy, Poland, France, Brazil, China, India . . . all these places I have a connection with are now rife with conflicts and increasingly unsettled. Disgruntlement has turned into indignation and rage, and what and how people eat is often featured front and center in these dynamics.

Not for the first time, food plays a central role in politics, especially when not enough of it is produced or imported, or if people do not have enough to eat, for reasons ranging from natural disasters to social turmoil. While those concerns are still essential to most legitimate and illegitimate authorities at any scale, issues connected with individual and collective identities have taken center stage in ways that have turned food into a powerful ideological tool in political debates, protests, and negotiations. Food can be wielded as a weapon in cultural wars that, at times, become all too real, with devastating consequences for their victims. Moreover, while the apparent focus is on local or national issues, the horizon in which these tensions play out is more and more global.

Globalization appears to generate a need for community and rootedness that can be channeled into all kinds of political projects, operating at scales varying from the hyperlocal to the international. I have been looking for ways to make sense of these shifts both in my academic work and in other forms of communication, from books for general audiences to my own blog. In November 2019, I participated in the “Cucina Politica” conference at Bologna University. In Italian, the title means both political cuisine and political kitchen. Among the conversations that took place over the coffee breaks during the meeting, one stuck with me: some of the participants observed that the Italian left seems to have lost its capacity to relate effectively to politically charged ideas like nation or patriotism, which, in that country, have become the almost exclusive domain of right-wing and conservative discourse.

That exchange got me thinking, as it became apparent that the phenomenon was not limited to Italy. Why and how had that happened? Why are liberals and progressives less inclined to tackle those themes? Why can’t the governments they head come up with effective yet humane and fair policies to manage migration flows, in order to prevent the rise of political forces that channel prejudice, racism, and xenophobia? Why don’t enlightened intelligentsias seriously address concerns about the loss of cultural identity (even when it is mixed with racist and bigoted proclamations)? These matters cannot just be dis- counted, regardless of what we think of them or whether we consider them legitimate or based on facts. They exist and have tangible political implications. Liberal and progressive politicians appear to be aware of the consequences of the growing economic inequalities, both domestically and internationally, the transfer of blue-collar jobs to other countries, and the lowering of social status and standards of living among the middle and the working classes in high-income countries as well. However, their positions and declarations are often denounced as condescending and out of touch by those who bear the brunt of these epochal changes.

I am lucky enough not to share those same worries. I am part of the privileged, cosmopolitan, educated elite that populisms despise. I am an expert with credentials from prestigious institutions of higher education and I proudly strive to improve my expertise. I am an immigrant, although one of luxury, who relocated to a new country because of a cool job. I have all the traits of a globalist, to use a term very much en vogue in populist and nativist circles. I studied in different countries and traveled extensively as a journalist. Working in media, I witnessed the epochal transformation from local print and broadcast media to the present-day global circulation of news and images on the Internet. I still remember when we started talking about the Internet 2.0 and when I stopped using film to take pictures with an actual camera for my stories. Yet my personal path is not just that. I am not independently wealthy. My family, back in Italy, is neither powerful nor well connected. I guess I am among those who were able to ride the wave of globalization and make the most of it.

However, I am also well aware that many others did not have the same opportunities and were not able to access the same tools I mustered to advance my career. Some of them are among my friends and family. These reflections led me to read more about the contemporary politics of tribalism, populism, souverainism, nativism, nationalism, and all the other isms that are evoked to make sense of what we have been observing in the last couple of decades. I went back to classics of political thought, from Karl Polanyi to Hannah Arendt, but also started following right-wing media, although I must admit I could not force myself to read the most extreme publications for long. My goal was to get a better understanding of worldviews I deeply and viscerally disagree with. It was an intellectual endeavor as much as an existential one: taking a few steps back from current events to look at the big picture helped me maintain some sanity. I have always found writing therapeutic.”