When Being There Is Saying Something
In the town square, on the courthouse steps, in front of the gates of parliament—the bodies gather. They don’t always carry signs. Sometimes they’re silent. And yet, they speak. Loudly. Sometimes, frighteningly. Philosopher Judith Butler argues that physical assembly itself is a political expression: not just the formulated opinion, but the very act of appearing in public—the exposure of the body, its vulnerable presence—is a political demand.
Butler, continuing a post-structuralist line of thought but with radical attention to the body and space, insists that politics doesn’t begin with speech but with the gathering of bodies that refuse to disappear. To show up and stay—to insist on being here—is already political. This is what she calls the “politics of presence.”
Body, Space, and Risk
But why the body? Because the body is always exposed. It’s not just a vehicle for action—it is the message. It’s vulnerable to tear gas, to public gaze, to shaming and violence. This vulnerability, Butler argues, is not weakness but political force. In a paradoxical twist, it is precisely exposure—not defense—that asserts the legitimacy of the claim.
Other thinkers have followed similar lines. Hannah Arendt, for example, wrote in the 1960s that politics begins in the shared space where humans appear to one another as who they are, not merely what they are. For Arendt, the ability to appear in public—to become visible—is a prerequisite for authentic political action. Emmanuel Levinas, from a very different tradition, saw in the face of the other a moral summons—a presence that demands response.
Who Gets to Appear?
The politics of presence raises painful questions: Who even gets to be present? Who is allowed to take up space—in the street, the square, the media? These questions touch on feminism, LGBTQ+ activism, Arab, refugee, and migrant struggles. Sometimes, simply showing up in public is labeled a “provocation.” Feminist marches in city centers, disabled activists blocking highways—all these are not only political in content but in being.
Media scholar Paula Chakravartty argues that political control over public space works through control over visibility. When excluded groups take to the streets, they disrupt what is perceived as “normal order”—and are often met with suppression. Politics of presence is therefore, by nature, a politics of disruption.
Is Presence Enough?
Critics may say: presence is not enough. The world needs solutions, structures, strategies. That’s true. But Butler and others are not arguing that the body replaces the idea—they argue that it reveals what the idea alone cannot: the wound. The injustice itself. The unbearable.
Physical presence is not the end of politics—it is its beginning. A moment when business-as-usual becomes impossible. When power must choose: to recognize this existence or to reject it with force.
A Politics that Insists on Life
In a world flooded with words, paralyzed by spin, dulled by cynicism, there is something revolutionary in the simple act of showing up. A silent protest. A hunger strike. A sit-in on the floor. The politics of presence is not merely protest—it is an existential demand for recognition. At times, it is the deepest reminder that we are here. In our bodies. Together. And that we can no longer be ignored.
See also: Bodies that Matter / Judith Butler