Chapter 3 The geopolitics of literary studies in a time of crisis

Introduction

The humanities, and in particular literary studies, are essential for making sense of the world’s most urgent crises. Whether we are confronting climate change, navigating the ethical dilemmas of artificial intelligence or grappling with war, injustice and racism, it is the humanities that equip us with the tools to think critically, to imagine alternatives and to reflect on what it means to live together responsibly. Without these capacities, no technical solution or economic policy can hope to be truly sustainable. And yet, paradoxically, the very disciplines that cultivate these vital skills are being pushed to the margins of academia, dismissed as irrelevant in a system shaped by a complex web of forces – ranging from short-term economic priorities to shifting cultural values and institutional restructuring. While this chapter situates the discussion within the broader crisis of the humanities, its central concern is with literary studies, whose decline most sharply illustrates the wider marginalisation of humanistic inquiry.

The digital age introduces another layer to this crisis, one that is neither wholly detrimental nor entirely liberating for the humanities. On the one hand, the proliferation of online media has dramatically expanded access to knowledge, enabling broader participation in academic discourse and opening new modes of collaboration across borders. Online and hybrid learning models, in particular, have allowed students who might otherwise be excluded – whether for geographic, financial or personal reasons – to engage with higher education in meaningful ways. On the other hand, this transformation has also reshaped patterns of information consumption, often privileging speed, surface-level engagement and fragmented attention over the deep, reflective inquiry that the humanities cultivate. Scholars have raised concerns that such shifts, while democratising in form, may dilute the quality of education and erode the communal and dialogical dimensions of traditional academic life.¹ For literary studies especially, where close reading and sustained dialogue remain central practices, the challenge lies not in rejecting digital modes outright, but in critically reimagining how these tools can be aligned with the values of humanistic inquiry rather than undermining them.

This chapter expands on the causes behind the marginalisation of literary studies, arguing for greater attention to the geopolitical dimensions of this crisis in relation to both authoritarian and democratic regimes. The chapter explores why the world is more in need of humanities and literary studies than ever, given the disorder that prevails across the globe. Reflecting on my personal scholarship and experiences, two case studies focused on digital literary activism and lexical algorithmic disruption clarify the potential of literary studies to safeguard our shared humanity against the forces of authoritarianism and neoliberalism. The chapter concludes by proposing practices for navigating the current crisis in the humanities and literary studies.

Geopolitical dimensions of the crisis of the humanities

The suppression of humanistic inquiry is a global phenomenon shaped by both authoritarian and democratic regimes, albeit through distinct yet interconnected mechanisms. In authoritarian states, critical disciplines such as philosophy, history, political science and literature are often perceived as destabilising forces, leading to systematic control over academic institutions. As Hyslop-Margison and Leonard argue, the suppression of the humanities is not merely an economic consequence of post-neoliberal restructuring but a deliberate strategy employed by states to undermine democratic engagement and critical discourse.² Authoritarian governments recognise that these disciplines cultivate independent thought, challenge official narratives and foster civic participation – elements that contradict the need of these governments for ideological conformity. Hyslop-Margison and Leonard highlight that under repressive regimes, universities are no longer spaces of intellectual resistance but are instead transformed into instruments of state ideology, ensuring that curricula reinforce rather than critique dominant power structures. The elimination or defunding of humanities programmes, often justified through economic rationales, can be understood as a calculated move to erode democratic values. By limiting access to disciplines that encourage approaches such as historical analysis and ethical reasoning, authoritarian states weaken the public’s capacity to question governance, resist misinformation and advocate for justice. Thus, as Hyslop-Margison and Leonard emphasise, the crisis of the humanities is not just an academic concern but a fundamental threat to democratic society itself, necessitating urgent resistance to policies that prioritise economic utility over intellectual freedom.³

Authoritarian regimes in the Middle East and North Africa (MENA) region, for example, have suppressed the humanities and academic freedom as potential sites of political dissent. Brand (2007) states that universities and scholars in the MENA area have faced systematic harassment, censorship and persecution as part of broader efforts to maintain regime control. Brand highlights how academics have been dismissed, imprisoned or even tortured due to their writings and activism. This suppression forms part of broader human rights violations crucial for regime maintenance⁴ extending beyond individual persecution, as governments impose direct control over university curricula, censor classroom materials and restrict historical and political research. In Tunisia and the United Arab Emirates (UAE), academics have been summarily dismissed for their work; in Egypt, classroom materials have been subjected to censorship; and in countries like Iran, Saudi Arabia, Syria and Sudan, and under the Palestinian Authority, scholars and students have been imprisoned for their academic work or political views. Additionally, university campuses in Bahrain and Tunisia have experienced government infiltration and violent crackdowns.⁵

Furthermore, the repression of academic freedom intersects with geopolitical struggles, as authoritarian regimes use national security justifications to stifle critical inquiry. Brand notes that civil wars, insurgencies and foreign interventions have destroyed educational institutions and provided a pretext for heightened surveillance and restrictions on academic discourse. In Iraq, for example, the 2003 US invasion and subsequent instability have devastated the academic sector, leading to assassinations of scholars, the destruction of libraries and the mass displacement of faculty members. Similarly, in Palestine, Israeli occupation policies – such as movement restrictions, denial of entry to foreign scholars and the destruction of educational infrastructure – have severely hindered academic freedom and access to education.⁶ A recent example is the reported ‘assassination’ of Palestinian academic, writer and poet Refaat Alareer, a professor of English literature at the Islamic University in Gaza, who was also widely known for his outspoken criticism of Israel through his literary work and public writings. Alareer was killed in an Israeli airstrike in northern Gaza in December 2023.⁷ Reports from organisations such as the Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor indicate that his killing was ‘apparently deliberate’ after he received multiple death threats.⁸

These patterns of repression highlight how the humanities, with their emphasis on critical thinking and historical inquiry, pose a challenge to authoritarian and colonial power structures. To be clear, humanities research is not merely abstract theorising: it involves the recovery and interpretation of texts and archives and the critical reframing of cultural memory. These practices, often slow and dialogical, equip scholars to question dominant narratives and reveal forms of knowledge that authoritarian systems seek to erase. Thus, the crisis of the humanities in the MENA region cannot be seen in isolation from the larger framework of state control and global political interests.

Yet, the erosion of the humanities is not confined to authoritarian regimes alone. Across the world, fields that cultivate critical and historical inquiry are also marginalised alongside student movements challenging dominant power relations. The suppression of dissent is particularly evident in the treatment of pro-Palestinian student activists in American universities.⁹ Here, the devaluation of humanities disciplines that promote historical analysis, ethical reasoning and political critique aligns with a broader pattern of silencing voices that contest prevailing geopolitical narratives. This systemic devaluation of the humanities is reinforced by neoliberal economic imperatives that shift educational priorities toward disciplines with direct market applications.

In the UK, for example, this economisation of education is exemplified by the Teaching Excellence and Student Outcomes Framework (TEF) that evaluates teaching quality through sector-wide indicators such as student retention, satisfaction and, most controversially, graduate employment and earnings data.¹⁰ By equating the ‘value’ of degrees with post-graduation salaries, the TEF conflates educational worth with labour market outcomes, despite widespread criticism that income levels cannot serve as a valid proxy for teaching excellence.¹¹ Collectively, these pressures embed a market logic that diminishes the space for long-term critical and ethical inquiry, eroding the civic and democratic purposes of the humanities and constraining the capacity of higher education to foster informed, politically engaged citizens.

This corporatisation of universities has significantly weakened the humanities, as higher education institutions increasingly function as corporate entities where financial efficiency and market-driven priorities dictate academic decisions. Chau describes this transformation, noting that ‘education is transformed into a commodity, students into consumers, faculty into entrepreneurs, and institutions of higher learning into storefronts’.¹² As Nussbaum warns, nations that prioritise economic output over intellectual independence risk producing ‘generations of useful machines, rather than complete citizens who can think for themselves, criticize tradition, and understand the significance of another person’s sufferings and achievements’.¹³ This shift privileges profit-driven disciplines such as business, engineering and applied sciences while marginalising fields that do not directly contribute to economic growth. In the United States, public universities are eliminating humanities programmes, such as philosophy, history and English, citing declining enrolments, while prioritising career-oriented fields like computer science and finance.¹⁴

The erosion of the humanities is not merely an economic trend but a broader ideological shift that reconfigures universities as corporate enterprises, aligning them with state and military interests at the expense of their ethical and civic responsibilities. Giroux warns that in the absence of a democratic vision of education, universities have increasingly integrated themselves into military, intelligence and corporate networks, compromising their role as spaces for independent thought and social critique. He highlights Yale University’s collaboration with the Department of Defense in establishing the US Special Operations Command Center of Excellence for Operational Neuroscience, which trained military personnel in intelligence-gathering techniques using immigrant populations – primarily poor Hispanics, Moroccans and Iraqis – as test subjects. This integration of military intelligence practices into academic spaces, Giroux argues, reflects a larger trend in which universities facilitate, rather than critique, state surveillance and authoritarian governance.¹⁵

As Giroux argues, the neoliberal restructuring of universities risks transforming faculty from scholars and public intellectuals into mere technicians and grant writers, stripping them of their authority and reducing education to a transactional service industry. The rise of artificial intelligence (AI) and automation further exacerbates this crisis by reinforcing the notion that humanities education is obsolete, a misconception echoed in recent policy decisions such as West Virginia University’s 2023 preliminary recommendation to eliminate its world languages and other humanities programmes, justified in terms of budget shortfalls, declining enrolments and the need to invest in specialisations that are ‘more relevant to today’s student’.¹⁶ As universities restructure themselves to cater to technological and economic imperatives, fields like philosophy, history and literature are increasingly dismissed as impractical, sidelining critical discussions about the ethical, philosophical and sociopolitical implications of AI and automation. Governments eager to dominate AI development channel vast resources into computational sciences while neglecting the humanistic inquiry necessary to guide the responsible and ethical uses of these emerging technologies. This shortsighted approach not only accelerates the marginalisation of the humanities but also risks creating technological infrastructures that serve authoritarian and corporate interests at the expense of democratic governance.

Nussbaum underscores the importance of humanistic education in resisting dehumanising trends, stating, ‘Socratic thinking is important in any democracy. But it is particularly important in societies that need to come to grips with the presence of people who differ by ethnicity, caste, and religion’.¹⁷ The absence of such thinking is demonstrated in the use of predictive policing systems that have been shown to disproportionately target communities of colour, or automated hiring platforms that replicate gender and racial biases embedded in their training data. Rather than addressing inequalities and biases, these systems reproduce them under the guise of efficiency and neutrality.¹⁸ Together, these cases underscore the dangers of technological determinism – the belief that innovation alone guarantees social progress – while ignoring the political, ethical and cultural frameworks that shape how AI is deployed. With today’s increasing automation and digital governance, the humanities provide essential tools for interrogating how technological systems shape power structures and social realities.

In this era defined by rapid technological shifts and political instability, literary research has a particularly crucial role to play in navigating these contemporary global challenges. Literature’s capacity to foster empathy, historical awareness and ethical reasoning is particularly indispensable in an age where misinformation and algorithmic governance threaten democratic discourse. More specifically, the study of literature provides critical tools for understanding human agency and diverse cultural narratives – areas that become increasingly urgent as AI and authoritarianism reshape societies. While science, technology, engineering and mathematics (STEM) disciplines dominate discussions on technological progress, literary research offers a necessary counterbalance by interrogating the social, political, cultural and philosophical implications of these changes. Moreover, the resurgence of authoritarianism and populism underscores the role of literature in preserving democratic values. Levitsky and Ziblatt emphasise that democratic erosion often begins subtly, with shifts in rhetoric and policy that gradually undermine civil liberties.¹⁹ Literary research can cultivate the historical awareness and political literacy necessary to recognise and resist these threats, as will be explored in the following two case studies that focus on digital literary activism and lexical algorithmic resistance. Similarly, by analysing dystopian fiction, political allegories and suppressed literary voices, scholars can reveal how language and storytelling shape public consciousness and influence political outcomes.

Arab women’s digital literary activism

My recent research has investigated how Arab women’s digital literary activism resists both patriarchal and neocolonial structures. Analysing digital literary works such as Nissmah Roshdy’s La’eb Al-Nard [The Dice Player] (2013) – a visual–poetic animation based on Mahmoud Darwish’s poem that brings together calligraphy, voice and motion in a web-based reflection on chance and identity – and Amira Hanafi’s Qamos al-Thawra [A Dictionary of the Revolution] (2017) – a born-digital, multi-voiced lexicon built from interviews with nearly 200 Egyptians in the wake of the 2011 uprising – demonstrates how literature mediated through digital platforms becomes a powerful instrument of political resistance and cultural memory.²⁰

Literary scholarship can reveal and counteract the mechanisms of oppression embedded in both local and global structures. The concept of digital post/colonial feminism provides a theoretical framework that captures the dual struggle faced by Arab women: resisting internal patriarchal forces while simultaneously challenging external colonial and imperialist narratives. This conceptual approach aligns with postcolonial feminist scholarship, which critiques how Western feminist discourse often co-opts and misrepresents the struggles of women from the Global South.²¹

Digital literary activism functions here as an evolving site of resistance, with digital media offering new modes of expression that traditional literary forms might not accommodate, particularly in repressive political environments.²² For example, Roshdy’s La’eb Al-Nard utilises animation, visual art and poetry to depict the Palestinian experience under occupation. Roshdy converts Darwish’s paper-based poetry into a kinetic–digital form that blends text, animation and sound to create a multi-sensory experience that resists the reduction of Palestinian identity to mere statistics or news headlines. In so doing, this digital piece draws several aesthetic and artistic pictures based on a clever use of digital media. Thus, this work challenges the colonial erasure of Palestinian narratives, in addition to intervening in the very processes through which cultural memory is constructed and preserved in the digital age.

From a methodological perspective, this case study demonstrates that literary research can no longer be confined to textual exegesis alone. Digital literary activism necessitates an expanded critical lens that accounts for multimodality – animation, interactivity, soundscapes – as integral to meaning-making and resistance. By engaging with such works, research reveals how literature, when mediated through digital technologies, creates alternative spaces of resistance that traditional print-based forms may not sustain, particularly in repressive political contexts. The adaptability of this form of activism is crucial in the face of ever-evolving mechanisms of surveillance and censorship. While authoritarian regimes seek to silence dissent through control of publishing infrastructures or media channels, digital works like La’eb Al-Nard circumvent these barriers by inhabiting fluid, networked spaces that are more difficult to police. Multimodality here is not only an aesthetic choice but also a political strategy: it expands the reach and affective power of the text while destabilising the boundaries between literature, art and activism.

Similarly, Hanafi’s Qamos al-Thawra exemplifies how digital literary forms can serve as archives of resistance, preserving alternative historical accounts that authoritarian regimes seek to erase. Through a collaborative storytelling process, Hanafi collects and organises oral testimonies about the Egyptian Revolution of 2011, creating an interactive digital dictionary that challenges state-sanctioned narratives. Therefore, by weaving together accounts that reflect the lived experiences and diverse linguistic registers of Egyptians from different regions, Hanafi disrupts the state’s unified account of the 2011 revolution and brings forward the many realities witnessed by those who were directly involved.²³ Hanafi’s piece is a significant example of how literature engages with history, memory and identity, resisting epistemic violence and ensuring that marginalised perspectives are preserved.

Literature here functions as a political act, particularly in contexts where free speech is restricted. The erasure of marginalised voices is not only a historical phenomenon but an ongoing reality in many regions of the world. In the Arab world, where governments frequently use censorship and digital surveillance to control dissent, literature – especially in its digital form – becomes a site of defiance. Unlike traditional print, which is bound by state-controlled publishing infrastructures, digital literary forms such as interactive narratives, multimedia poetry and hypertext fiction allow writers to experiment with modes of circulation that evade censorship. Their multimodality – integrating text, image, animation and sound – creates layered meanings that are harder to suppress or police, while the networked nature of digital platforms enables works to reach transnational audiences, amplifying voices that regimes attempt to silence.

This defiant potential of literature, as explained in the previous section, aligns with Edward Said’s assertion that literature is deeply intertwined with power, serving not only as a reflection of political struggles but as an active force in shaping them. Said argues that while imperialism is fundamentally a struggle over land, literature serves as a powerful form of resistance by contesting ownership, settlement and the future of that land through narrative. Storytelling becomes a site of defiance, where literary texts challenge imperialist claims, disrupt hegemonic histories and reclaim erased voices. By offering counter-narratives, literature not only exposes the mechanisms of colonial domination but also asserts the agency of the oppressed, transforming political and historical battles over territory into acts of cultural resistance and survival.²⁴ In this way, literature transcends mere artistic expression; it becomes a tool of intellectual resistance, preserving histories that dominant powers seek to erase and giving voice to those silenced by political oppression.

These two literary and artistic pieces by Roshdy and Hanafi reinforce the argument that literature is not merely a mirror of power structures but an active site for contesting them. Whether through the reanimation of Palestinian resistance poetry or the archiving of revolutionary testimonies, such works function as counter-narratives that unsettle hegemonic control. Yet the role of literary research extends beyond recognising these acts of resistance. Scholarly analysis enables us to situate these works within broader socio-political histories, uncover the aesthetic and rhetorical strategies through which they intervene and trace the cultural networks that shape their production and circulation. By doing so, literary research amplifies the political force of the texts themselves, in addition to equipping us with the critical frameworks needed to understand how digital narratives challenge misinformation and state propaganda. It transforms individual creative acts into a wider map of resistance, illuminating how cultural expression operates as both testimony and tactic in the struggle over meaning and memory.

‘Lexical algorithmic resistance’ on Facebook

While the first case study highlighted the role of literary research in challenging power structures through cultural memory and narrative reclamation, this second case study broadens the scope to address how language acts as a vital tool of resistance. Together, these approaches demonstrate how literature and other forms of linguistic expression function as complementary sites of defiance: literature reclaims erased histories and voices, while linguistic strategies directly subvert mechanisms of control in everyday communication. This second case study examines how Arab users strategically manipulate language to evade Facebook’s algorithmic censorship, particularly in relation to the suppression of pro-Palestinian voices. The research traces specific linguistic practices – including splitting words, using dotless letters or substituting letters – that users adopt to prevent automated systems from flagging or removing their posts. It also analyses patterns in platform moderation policies and user responses to highlight the constant negotiation between censorship mechanisms and grassroots strategies of visibility.²⁵ By foregrounding how linguistic ingenuity enables users to bypass digital surveillance, the research underscores that resistance in the digital age requires not only the preservation of cultural narratives but also the tactical adaptation of language itself against authoritarianism and the corporate domination of public discourse.

The strategic manipulation of language to deceive algorithms is part of a broader history of resistance through literary and linguistic subversion. Literature and language have long served as a battleground where narratives of oppression are contested using several techniques, such as symbolism and the coded language that defied totalitarian regimes and colonisation. For instance, among the Moriscos in Spain, aljamiado writing – Romance languages written in Arabic script – allowed them to navigate their dual identities while maintaining their Islamic heritage under the oppressive scrutiny of the Spanish Inquisition. This linguistic adaptation enabled them to resist cultural erasure and sustain their traditions despite systemic repression.²⁶

Today, algorithmic governance represents a new frontier of control, where automated systems dictate the visibility and circulation of political discourse. My research situates this digital form of censorship within the framework of ‘data colonialism’,²⁷ which critiques how digital platforms appropriate human communication for profit and political control. Technology companies are thus complicit in reinforcing geopolitical power asymmetries. Facebook’s biased moderation policies disproportionately target Arabic content, particularly expressions of solidarity with Palestine, while permitting violent rhetoric in other political contexts.²⁸ This selective enforcement mirrors historical state-sponsored censorship, where colonial and authoritarian regimes suppressed literary works that fostered national consciousness and anti-colonial sentiment. Nkrumah identified control over cultural expression as a central pillar of neo-colonial domination, a notion that remains relevant in the digital age, where algorithmic censorship operates as a form of linguistic imperialism.²⁹

To counter this censorship, Arab users employ various lexical resistance techniques to evade content moderation algorithms that systematically suppress discussions in relation to Palestinian resistance.³⁰ This manipulation of Arabic script in digital resistance reflects an ongoing struggle against the erasure of Palestinian narratives by Western-dominated social media corporations. By deploying language as an instrument of resistance, Arab users engage in what James C. Scott terms ‘hidden transcripts’ – subversive discourses that challenge hegemonic power beneath the surface of public discourse.³¹

The implications of this research extend beyond digital resistance to broader debates on the role of literary and linguistic scholarship in political activism. By analysing how language is weaponised against marginalised communities, scholars can expose the ways in which discourse itself becomes a mechanism of control, reinforcing hierarchies and legitimising systems of exclusion. Literary research is thus not confined to the interpretation of texts in isolation, but rather engages with the lived realities of oppression, where language and narrative are central to struggles over visibility, legitimacy and rights. In this sense, literary and linguistic inquiry becomes a form of political praxis: it interprets and actively disrupts the discursive strategies used to silence subaltern voices. Such research affirms the humanities as indispensable in confronting contemporary crises of power and justice.

Additionally, this research contributes to debates on algorithmic justice and the ethical governance of digital platforms. As mentioned earlier, scholars such as Broussard and Noble have critiqued the biases embedded in AI, arguing that algorithmic systems reinforce existing social hierarchies rather than neutralise them. My research provides empirical evidence of these biases, demonstrating how Facebook’s content moderation disproportionately impacts Arabic-speaking users, effectively silencing political dissent. By foregrounding how particular linguistic communities are marginalised through automated moderation, this work challenges universalist claims of algorithmic neutrality and exposes the unequal distribution of visibility and voice in digital spaces. In this sense, literary and linguistic research can push for digital policies that protect freedom of expression and recognise the legitimacy of politically sensitive narratives, marginalised voices and region-specific cultural contexts that are often sidelined in global platform governance.

Furthermore, the research highlights the resilience and adaptability of digital resistance movements. Despite Facebook’s attempts to refine its content moderation algorithms, Arab users continuously develop new lexical strategies to circumvent censorship, reflecting what de Certeau describes as ‘tactics’ – improvised actions that challenge dominant structures from within.³² This underscores the dynamic interplay between control and resistance, illustrating that language remains a potent tool for subverting authoritarianism, whether in traditional literary forms or other forms of digital activism.

In sum, these two case studies highlight the enduring relevance of literary studies in resisting the forces of authoritarianism. Digital literary activism among Arab women illustrates how literature functions as both an archive and an act of defiance, preserving counter-narratives that challenge dominant ideological formations. Meanwhile, research on lexical algorithmic resistance reveals how digital spaces, far from being neutral platforms, are shaped by political bias and systemic censorship. The suppression of pro-Palestinian discourse on social media echoes historical patterns of linguistic and literary repression, illustrating how power operates through control over language and representation.

Conclusion

This chapter exemplifies why literary studies remain indispensable in contemporary scholarship, particularly in resisting authoritarianism and structural oppression. Literature serves as an instrument of resistance, identity reclamation and political engagement. The adaptability of literary forms – whether in print, digital animation or interactive archives – demonstrates literature’s continued relevance in addressing power dynamics and advocating for justice. As authoritarian regimes and corporate interests seek to monopolise narratives, literary research ensures that the distinct voices and perspectives of marginalised groups persist, challenging the erasure of histories, identities and struggles. In this context, literary studies reaffirm the humanities’ indispensable role in analysing and challenging the structures of power that shape our digital and political realities. As authoritarianism and algorithmic governance converge, literary research remains a vital space for contesting oppression, fostering critical consciousness and envisioning alternative futures. By foregrounding the transformative potential of literature in both historical and contemporary struggles for justice, the research outlined in this chapter underscores the urgency of preserving and advancing the humanities as a means of resisting erasure and imagining more just and equitable societies.

The crisis facing literary studies, and the humanities in general, is consequently not simply a matter of declining enrolments or budget cuts; it is a symptom of broader struggles over power, knowledge and resistance. As this chapter has argued, the marginalisation of disciplines that cultivate critical thinking and historical awareness is not incidental but a deliberate restructuring of knowledge production. Authoritarian regimes seek to control intellectual inquiry by suppressing academic freedom, while democratic societies, driven by market imperatives, increasingly prioritise financial returns over intellectual and civic engagement. This transformation threatens not just higher education but democracy itself, reducing education to a tool of compliance rather than a space for questioning and resisting unjust structures.

Despite these challenges, the humanities remain a vital force for resistance and transformation. Their adaptability to technological and political shifts demonstrates their continued significance. Moving forward, scholars, educators and students must resist the instrumentalisation of education and reaffirm the humanities’ role in fostering intellectual freedom and social responsibility. Institutional and grassroots efforts are needed to challenge funding structures that marginalise the humanities, resist corporate influence in academic decision-making and promote interdisciplinary collaborations that connect literary and linguistic studies to urgent global concerns such as digital ethics and human rights.

In conclusion, literary studies are not in crisis because they lack relevance but because they challenge structures of power that seek to curtail critical thought and suppress alternative narratives. This chapter reaffirms the necessity of literary research and the humanities more widely in resisting these forces and highlights the urgency of preserving these disciplines as a domain of resistance and intellectual liberation. Today, as global disorder intensifies, defending the humanities is not merely an academic obligation but a political imperative essential to the survival of democratic and just societies.

Notes

1.   Caitlin Cassidy, ‘ “Teaching to an Empty Hall”: Is the Changing Face of Universities Eroding Standards of Learning?’, The Guardian, 19 February 2025, https://www.theguardian.com/australia-news/2025/feb/19/teaching-to-an-empty-hall-is-the-changing-face-of-universities-eroding-standards-of-learning? [accessed 24 April 2026].

2.   Emery J. Hyslop-Margison and Hugh A. Leonard, ‘Post Neo-Liberalism and the Humanities: What the Repressive State Apparatus Means for Universities’, Canadian Journal of Higher Education, 42, 2.1 (2012), pp. 1–12 (p. 8).

3.   Hyslop-Margison and Leonard, ‘Post Neo-Liberalism’, p. 11.

4.   Laurie A. Brand, ‘Middle East Studies and Academic Freedom: Challenges at Home and Abroad’, International Studies Perspectives, 8.4 (2007), pp. 384–95 (p. 384).

5.   Brand, ‘Middle East Studies’, p. 385.

6.   Brand, ‘Middle East Studies’, pp. 385–6.

7.   Palestine Chronicle Staff, ‘Refaat Alareer’s Body Laid to Rest after 15 Months – His Words Endures’, The Palestine Chronicle, 5 February 2025, https://www.palestinechronicle.com/refaat-alareersbody-laid-to-rest-after-15-months-his-words-endures/ [accessed 24 April 2026].

8.   Euro-Mediterranean Human Rights Monitor, ‘Israeli Strike on Refaat al-Areer Apparently Deliberate’, 8 December 2023, https://euromedmonitor.org/en/article/6014/Israeli-Strike-on-Refaat-al-Areer-Apparently-Deliberate [accessed 24 April 2026].

9.   Middle East Eye, ‘US Universities Intensify Crackdown on Pro-Palestinian Activism’, Middle East Eye, 25 October 2024, https://www.middleeasteye.net/news/us-universities-intensify-crackdown-pro-palestinian-activism [accessed 24 April 2026].

10.   Aneta Hayes, ‘The Teaching Excellence Framework in the United Kingdom: An Opportunity to Include International Students as “Equals”?’, Journal of Studies in International Education, 2.5 (2017), pp. 483–97.

11.   The British Academy, ‘Response to the Independent Review of the Teaching Excellence and Student Outcomes Framework (TEF)’, The British Academy, 28 February 2019, https://www.thebritishacademy.ac.uk/documents/1938/2019-The-British-Academy-TEF-independent-review-response.pdf [accessed 24 April 2026].

12.   Paule Chau, ‘Online Higher Education Commodity’, Journal of Computing in Higher Education, 22 (2010), pp. 177–91 (p. 178).

13.   Martha C. Nussbaum, Not for Profit: Why Democracy Needs the Humanities (Princeton University Press, 2010), p. 2.

14.   Shannon Watkins, ‘Protecting the Liberal Arts and Humanities in American Higher Education’, Manhattan Institute, 5 December 2024, pp. 4–5, https://manhattan.institute/article/protecting-the-liberal-arts-and-humanities-in-american-higher-education [accessed 24 April 2026].

15.   Henry A. Giroux, ‘The Disappearing Intellectual in the Age of Economic Darwinism’, Policy Futures in Education, 9.2 (2011), pp. 163–71.

16.   ‘WVU Announces Preliminary Recommendations, Academic Transformation Next Steps’, WVU Today, 11 August 2023, https://wvutoday.wvu.edu/stories/2023/08/11/wvu-announces-preliminary-recommendations-academic-transformation-next-steps [accessed 24 April 2026].

17.   Nussbaum, Not for Profit, p. 54.

18.   See Safiya Umoja Noble, Algorithms of Oppression: How Search Engines Reinforce Racism (New York University Press, 2018); Virginia Eubanks, Automating Inequality: How High-Tech Tools Profile, Police, and Punish the Poor (St Martin’s Press, 2018); Meredith Broussard, Artificial Unintelligence: How Computers Misunderstand the World (MIT Press, 2018).

19.   Steven Levitsky and Daniel Ziblatt, How Democracies Die (Crown, 2018), p. 10.

20.   Reham Hosny, ‘Digital Post/Colonial Feminism: Poetics and Politics of Digital Literary Activism by Arab Women’, Journal of Postcolonial Writing, 21 (2024), pp. 1–15 (p. 1), doi: 10.1080/17449855.2024.2410344.

21.   Audre Lorde ‘The Master’s Tools Will Never Dismantle the Master’s House’, in This Bridge Called My Back: Writings by Radical Women of Color, ed. by Gloria Anzaldúa and Cherríe Moraga (Kitchen Table Press, 1983), pp. 94–101; Chandra Talpade Mohanty, ‘Under Western Eyes: Feminist Scholarship and Colonial Discourses’, Boundary, 2, pp. 333–58.

22.   Hosny, ‘Digital Post/Colonial Feminism’, p. 1.

23.   Amira Hanafi, Qamos Al-Thawra [A Dictionary of the Revolution], http://qamosalthawra.com (2017), p. 10 [accessed 24 April 2026].

24.   Edward W. Said, Culture and Imperialism (Vintage, 1993), pp. xii–xiii.

25.   Reham Hosny and Mohamed A. Nasef, ‘Lexical Algorithmic Resistance: Tactics of Deceiving Arabic Content Moderation Algorithms on Facebook’, Big Data & Society, 12.2 (2025), doi:10.1177/20539517251318277.

26.   Paige Milligan, ‘After al-Andalus/Palestine: Resistance and Collaboration in Morisco and Palestinian Literatures’ (unpublished doctoral thesis, University of Michigan, 2022), doi:10.7302/4646.

27.   Nick Couldry and Ulises A. Mejias, The Costs of Connection: How Data Is Colonizing Human Life and Appropriating it for Capitalism (Stanford University Press, 2019).

28.   Human Rights Watch, ‘Meta’s Broken Promises: Systemic Censorship of Palestine Content on Instagram and Facebook’, 21 December 2023, https://www.hrw.org/report/2023/12/21/metas-broken-promises/systemic-censorship-palestine-content-instagram-and [accessed 24 April 2026].

29.   Kwame Nkrumah, Neo-Colonialism: The Last Stage of Imperialism (Thomas Nelson & Sons, Ltd, 1965).

30.   Hosny and Nasef, ‘Lexical Algorithmic Resistance’.

31.   James C. Scott, Weapons of the Weak: Everyday Forms of Peasant Resistance (Yale University Press, 1985).

32.   Michel de Certeau, The Practice of Everyday Life, trans. by Steven Rendall (University of California Press, 1984).

References