Decontextualisation of Protests and the Political Abuse of Psychology

In the 21st century, when psychology has progressed into a well-established discipline of its own, the proposition that contemporary psychological discourse is more biased than we realise is preposterous. However, it is worth noting that throughout history, the discourse of psychology has been deeply influenced by the social, political, and economic forces of its time. The amalgamation of politics with psychology may seem novel to some but it appears that, throughout history, the state has conveniently used psychopathological labels to stigmatise dissent of its citizens.

The practice of using psychiatric labels to advance political agendas dates back as far as 19th century America, to the time of slavery when American physician Samuel Cartwright coined the diagnosis ‘Drapetomania’,  a mental disorder that supposedly caused black enslaved people to run away from white slave owners and plantations.  All sorts of ‘black mental disorders’ were introduced to pathologise the resistance of black people against slavery. Protest Psychosis, Dysaethesia Aethiopia, and Black Schizophrenia are among other discriminatory labels of mental illnesses.

20th-century Soviet Russia too introduced disorders like ‘sluggish schizophrenia’ to pathologize dissent, resulting in the imprisonment of dissenters in psychiatric wards and the curbing of their freedom of speech and self-determination. Even after their release, these individuals were subjected to surveillance and intense discrimination by authorities. Safe to say, those who hold political power also hold the power to drive the mental health discourse to their benefit.

One could argue that this weaponisation of mental illness has dwindled and become a thing of the past. However, it appears that powerful political institutions continue to attach stigmatising psychiatric labels to people protesting against the status quo. Most recently, this occurred when Aaron Bushnell, an active-duty member of the U.S. Air Force, died on February 25, 2024, after setting himself on fire in front of the Israeli embassy in Washington, D.C., in protest against the genocide in Gaza. This act of self-immolation was covered by all major mainstream media outlets. However, they were widely criticized for their discursive choice of headlines.

The New York Times had written: “Man Dies After Setting Himself on Fire Outside Israeli Embassy in Washington, Police Say”. In her article, an Al Jazeera columnist emphasised how the headline failed to link Bushnell’s death to the intensifying violence against Palestinians, which ultimately compelled him to resort to such drastic actions.

Several other mainstream outlets, including CNN, BBC, Reuters, and The Washington Post, also published nearly identical headlines in their coverage of Bushnell’s political protest. While words like ‘Palestine’, and ‘genocide’ made scarce appearances in such headlines, despite Bushnell shouting “Free Palestine” repeatedly before his death,  words like ‘mental illness’ dominated the discourse that followed this incident.  Social media users alleged that this seems to be a deliberate pattern in the news coverage.

In what appears to be either a deliberate attempt or an interesting coincidence, US media outlets seemed to propagate a narrative that overlooks the deep political unrest as well as the atrocities being perpetrated on Palestinians that drove Bushnell to take such drastic measures.  A friend of Bushnell’s by the name of Lupe Barboza in an interview with Al Jazeera also disagreed with the allegation of Bushnell being mentally ill. Despite no evidence of Bushnell being mentally ill, news outlets such as The Independent, The Guardian, New York Magazine, and The Washington Post all published articles highlighting Bushnell’s upbringing in a potentially troublesome religious community.  A disproportionate emphasis on his alleged anarchist past is evident in the mainstream news coverage. 

This sort of media portrayal is reminiscent of 1965 when Norman Morrison, a 31-year-old father of three, had set himself on fire outside the Pentagon in 1965, in protest against the Vietnam war. In this case, as well, the media had alleged that Norman must have been insane, however, The Guardian had reported that his wife firmly denies this claim.

Michael Biggs, an associate professor of sociology at Oxford University who has studied the history of self-immolation says, “Press coverage treatment of self-immolation in the West has not always been generous. That’s a common theme. There are people who aren’t sympathetic, who just interpret this as kind of crazy and mad, [who say]: ‘He’s clearly mentally deranged.’ And we find that is the way that regimes and political systems want to discredit self-immolators: they’ll call them psychologically disturbed, or crazy. So it really is that reaction depends on whether you’re sympathetic to the cause.”

It is worth noting that Western media did not give another key instance of self-immolation which occurred on December 17th, 2010 the stigmatising label of mental illness. A 26-year-old Tunisian street vendor, Mohamed Bouazizi, had self-immolated, triggering a cascade of revolutions across the Middle East and starting the Arab Spring. American news outlets neither cared about Bouazizi’s political views and his family life nor did they describe his death as a suicide mission executed by a mentally deranged person. In fact, Barack Obama hailed him as a hero and compared him to America’s civil rights icon Rosa Parks. After all, his cause was righteous, and it gained further righteousness due to the much-needed revolutions it triggered in the ‘other’ part of the world.

On the other hand, the rush to pathologize Bushnell’s and Morrison’s self-immolation suggests a double standard. Selectively framing protests within the context of mental illness sheds light on the deeply-rooted problems within the contemporary mental health discourse. Clearly, such discourses surrounding ‘mental health’ and ‘psychopathology’ are not from completely neutral and objective standpoints. Instead, they are deeply influenced by the politics and power dynamics of the time and place they are evolving in.

Contrary to popular belief, diagnostic labels are not universal anchors that distinguish ‘sane’ people from ‘insane’ people. Sometimes they also become the vehicle that drives stigmatization, alienation, discrimination, and ultimately, persecution of those who challenge the status quo. It is important to recognise that there is no distinct dichotomy between psychology and politics and the boundary between the two disciplines is merely artificial.

Acts of resistance and dissent, whether extreme or not, are fueled by revolutionary fervor, solidarity, conscience, and distress. Running away from exploitative plantations, speaking up against an oppressive regime, starving yourself, or blockading a road are all forms of protest. They are a testament to the sheer helplessness, agitation, and frustration of the masses.

Indira Palacios-Valladares, a political science professor at Missouri State University whose research has focused on protest movements says, “Protesters always put their body at risk. When you go and protest in the street, you’re going to be beaten up maybe. You may even be killed, you may go to jail. So setting yourself on fire, or for that matter, hunger strikes, are an extreme version of that. This is intrinsic to every protest, the idea that you put your body at risk.”

Expressing concern for a mentally distressed individual’s self-harming actions is entirely different from abusing the power of your platform to perpetuate a narrative that undermines the purpose behind an individual’s protest. These seemingly harmless speculations about a protester’s mental health, when done by individuals and institutions with large platforms, can serve to remove accountability from the oppressive social, political, and economic systems responsible. Talking about these dissenters merely in light of their childhood traumas or cognitive distortions is a gross oversimplification. It disregards the fact that their misery, depression, and aggression are also rooted in complex oppressive social structures, their economic instability, their lack of resources, and the political turmoil surrounding them.

In these apocalyptic times, a humane individual stands at a crossroads, torn between an unfortunate choice: mental health or morality. Those who justify or turn a blind eye to a genocide unfolding in front of them are not labelled mentally ill because they are not agitated or disturbed in the same way as the protester. Though the stance of oppressors, their vocal and silent supporters, and indifferent spectators are indeed bizarre on a moral and intellectual level, they are able to function “normally” in day-to-day life compared to the protesters and those sympathetic to the oppressed. 

On one hand, the act of carpet bombing and massacring thousands of people is not deemed a psychopathology; the institution perpetrating such large-scale violence is not regarded as a terrorist. On the other hand, a person’s disproportionate reaction to an insufferable and infuriating situation is labelled a mental illness, if not an act of terrorism.

Seldom do we realise that an abnormal reaction to an abnormal situation is quite normal. This is reflected aptly in the words of Bushnell himself before he set himself on fire. As he walks up to the Israeli embassy, he is seen saying, “I’m about to engage in an extreme act of protest, but compared to what people are experiencing in Palestine at the hands of their colonisers, it’s not extreme at all. This is what our ruling class has decided will be normal.”

Decontextualisation of protests makes sure that people are individualised on an ideological and psychological level, and any form of resistance is conveniently pathologised to propagate oppression systematically. While Bushnell was ablaze, a uniformed man was seen pointing a gun at him and surrounding him. This dystopian reality of a policeman pointing his gun at a man screaming in agony speaks of the way the government perceives dissent— something to be immediately subdued, if not systematically through linguistic discourse then at gunpoint through intimidation.

Calling an inherently political act of dissent ‘a mental health issue’ — a problem within the individual that needs to be treated — depoliticizes their circumstances and eliminates all accountability from the shoulders of socio-political and economic structures that contribute, significantly, to people’s distress. We must honour the courage and sacrifice of such protestors. May they rest in power.