Introduction: 
Frantz Fanon’s The Wretched of the Earth (1961) is one of the most powerful and provocative texts in postcolonial theory. Written in the midst of the Algerian War of Independence, the book offers a searing analysis of colonialism’s physical, psychological, and cultural violence. Fanon was not merely a political theorist—he was a psychiatrist, a revolutionary, and a philosopher who combined medical insight with political vision. His work stands as both diagnosis and prescription: it diagnoses the diseases of colonial domination and prescribes radical decolonization as the only cure.
In The Wretched of the Earth, Fanon does not speak in the abstract language of detached philosophy; he writes from the battlefield of colonial struggle. He challenges the comfortable moral illusions of the Western world, asserting that colonialism is not a humanitarian enterprise but an inherently violent system of domination. His language is direct, his arguments uncompromising.
Two of his most influential concepts are:
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The role of violence in colonialism and decolonization, and
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The Manichaean nature of colonial society—a world divided absolutely between colonizer and colonized.
These two ideas are deeply interconnected. For Fanon, the Manichaean division of the colonial world produces the conditions that make violence both inevitable and necessary. Understanding these ideas helps us grasp not only Fanon’s revolutionary thought but also the continuing relevance of his work in today’s postcolonial world.
1. The Role of Violence in Colonialism
At the heart of Fanon’s argument lies a disturbing yet honest recognition: colonialism begins and sustains itself through violence. There is no peaceful colonization, no gentle empire. The colonizer’s first act is to conquer by force, and every subsequent act is a repetition of that original violence—maintained through military control, economic exploitation, and psychological domination.
Fanon opens The Wretched of the Earth with the blunt declaration:
“Decolonization is always a violent phenomenon.”
This statement shocks because it breaks the liberal illusion that freedom can be achieved through negotiation or moral appeal. Fanon insists that since colonialism itself is a system of violence, the struggle to end it cannot rely on nonviolence. The colonizer understands only one language—the language of force—and so, the colonized must answer in kind.
Colonial Violence as Structural and Psychological
For Fanon, colonial violence is not limited to physical brutality; it is also structural and psychological. The colonizer controls not only the land but also the mind of the colonized. Through education, religion, and language, the colonized are made to feel inferior, dependent, and powerless. They are taught that they are uncivilized, lazy, and incapable of self-rule.
This psychological domination is what Fanon calls “internalized inferiority.” The colonized subject begins to see himself through the eyes of the oppressor. He aspires to whiteness, to Western values, and to the colonizer’s approval. The result is alienation—a deep fracture in the self.
Thus, colonial violence is both external and internal. It kills bodies but also corrupts souls. It destroys villages and also reconstructs identities in the image of the colonizer.
Revolutionary Violence as Liberation
Because colonialism works through violence, Fanon argues that only revolutionary violence can undo it. Decolonization is not simply the transfer of power from one government to another; it is the complete destruction of the colonial world and the creation of a new human order.
Fanon writes that for the colonized person, violence is not merely an act of destruction—it is a process of self-recovery. By taking up arms, the colonized reclaim their dignity and humanity. Violence becomes the means through which they overcome fear and inferiority.
In his words:
“At the level of individuals, violence is a cleansing force. It frees the native from his inferiority complex and from his despair and inaction.”
This idea of cleansing violence has been one of the most controversial aspects of Fanon’s work. Critics accuse him of romanticizing bloodshed. However, Fanon is not celebrating violence for its own sake. He is analyzing a social reality: in a system founded on force, freedom cannot be granted voluntarily—it must be seized. Violence, for Fanon, is not the goal but the necessary instrument of decolonization.
Violence and the Creation of a New Society
Fanon’s concept of violence is also creative. Through collective struggle, the colonized discover solidarity and purpose. The experience of fighting together dissolves tribal divisions, class differences, and regional rivalries. A new sense of national consciousness emerges, grounded in the shared experience of resistance.
This revolutionary unity is the foundation for a new, postcolonial society. However, Fanon warns that if the revolution stops halfway—if it replaces foreign rulers with a corrupt native elite—the cycle of oppression continues. Violence must lead to social transformation, not just political substitution.
Thus, for Fanon, violence has three dimensions: it is reactive (responding to colonial aggression), restorative (recovering lost humanity), and creative (building a new social order).
2. Manichaeism in the Colonial Context
The second major idea Fanon develops in The Wretched of the Earth is that colonial society is Manichaean—a world divided into two opposing realms: the colonizer and the colonized. The term Manichaeism comes from an ancient religious philosophy that viewed existence as a struggle between the forces of good (light) and evil (darkness). Fanon uses it metaphorically to describe the absolute moral and spatial separation that defines colonialism.
The Colonial World as Divided Space
Fanon describes the colonial world as “a world cut in two.” On one side lies the settler’s world—clean, wealthy, and secure. On the other side lies the native world—dirty, impoverished, and policed. Between them stands a line of guns and checkpoints.
The colonizer’s town is built on the hill; it is paved, lit, and guarded. The native quarter lies below, unpaved and overcrowded. The geography itself reflects the political order. Space becomes a symbol of hierarchy.
This dualism is not just physical but moral. The colonizer represents civilization, reason, and beauty; the colonized is cast as barbaric, irrational, and ugly. This structure is what Fanon calls the Manichaean psychology of colonialism—a world where everything is divided into good and evil, white and black, master and slave.
Manichaeism as Ideological Control
The power of this division lies in its simplicity. It allows the colonizer to justify domination. If the native is inferior, then colonization becomes a moral duty. The colonizer believes he brings light to darkness, order to chaos, civilization to savagery.
This Manichaean ideology infiltrates every institution: law, education, religion, and art. It shapes how the colonized see themselves. The native internalizes the idea that he belongs to the “zone of non-being,” as Fanon calls it. He learns to despise his own culture and admire that of the colonizer.
This is why Fanon insists that the colonial system cannot be reformed or negotiated with—it must be overthrown. The Manichaean world can only be destroyed, not rebalanced. The two sides cannot coexist in harmony because their relationship is based on absolute negation. The colonizer exists only by denying the humanity of the colonized.
The Collapse of the Manichaean Order
Fanon sees decolonization as the collapse of the Manichaean structure. When the colonized begin to resist, the colonizer’s world trembles. The binary opposition between “master” and “slave” begins to blur. The colonized cease to see themselves as objects of history and become subjects who make history.
The violent uprising of the colonized is therefore not only political but metaphysical. It shatters the Manichaean order by destroying the myths of European superiority and colonial benevolence. It replaces a world of dualism with one of equality and mutual recognition.
In Fanon’s words:
“The colonial world is a world divided into compartments… But the moment the native laughs, takes up arms, or asserts his existence, the whole colonial structure totters.”
Thus, Manichaeism explains not only how colonialism operates but also why it must end in revolution.
Interrelation of Violence and Manichaeism
These two concepts—violence and Manichaeism—are inseparable in Fanon’s thought. The Manichaean division of the colonial world is sustained through violence; violence is the glue that holds the hierarchy together. In turn, the same violence produces the conditions for rebellion. The colonized learn the language of force because it is the only language the colonizer understands.
Fanon’s dialectic is clear: colonial violence breeds counter-violence, which eventually destroys the system of domination. The oppressed do not invent violence; they inherit it from the structure that oppresses them.
Moreover, Fanon insists that decolonization is not merely political independence—it is the reconstruction of the human. The colonized must not only overthrow the colonizer but also purge themselves of the internalized Manichaean mindset that divides humanity into superior and inferior. True liberation requires the creation of a new humanism, one that recognizes equality and mutual respect.
Relevance of Fanon’s Ideas Today
Although Fanon wrote in the 1950s and early 1960s, his insights remain deeply relevant in the twenty-first century. The physical empires may have fallen, but economic, cultural, and psychological forms of colonial domination persist. Racial hierarchies, global inequalities, and cultural stereotypes continue to reflect the Manichaean divisions Fanon described.
His analysis of violence also resonates in contemporary struggles for liberation—whether against racism, neocolonial exploitation, or systemic injustice. Fanon’s warning against partial decolonization reminds us that political independence without social transformation leads to new forms of domination, often by native elites serving global capitalism.
In this sense, The Wretched of the Earth is not only a text about the past but also a guide for understanding the unfinished project of decolonization.
Conclusion: The Meaning of the Title
The title The Wretched of the Earth comes from the opening line of “The Internationale,” a famous socialist anthem: “Arise, ye wretched of the earth.” Fanon uses it to refer to the oppressed, exploited masses across the world—the colonized, the enslaved, and the marginalized.
By giving voice to the “wretched,” Fanon reverses the traditional direction of history. He shifts the center of thought from the colonizer to the colonized, from Europe to the Global South. His book is both a manifesto and a moral call—to recognize the humanity of those whom the colonial world has rendered invisible.
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