When Beauty Contestants Become Diplomats
Beauty Diplomacy: The Story Of The Book
Oluwakemi M. Balogun, Associate Professor at the Women’s Gender and Sexuality Studies at the University of Oregon, was fascinated by how beauty pageants were not just reshaping contestants in Nigeria but also changing notions of the country. Of how they were sculpting its national identity, its economic heft, its self-confidence, its cultural insecurities, its global standing, its ranking as a tourist hotspot.
Underlining their prominence was the sheer number of pageants in Nigeria. At least about a 1000 such contests, which attracted women from different strata and cultural profiles. As one excited organizer exclaimed to the author: “Now the world is looking for natural beauty and guess what the future is? Africa! African beauty is becoming exciting. All of a sudden we are becoming the future.”
As a sociologist, Balogun sensed how beauty performed a more complex function in the emerging nation. Keen on tracking its performative values and the manner in which it negotiated global, national and gender relations among other forces, she embarked on a study that resulted in her 2020 book, Beauty Diplomacy (Stanford University Press).
A Brief Overview of Contemporary Nigeria
Many aspects of Nigeria are similar to India. Both, after all, are considered emerging nations – countries that demonstrate high growth rates, boast of large middle-class populations and demonstrate the potential to shed past shackles as they rocket towards richer nation clubs. However, both nations have been held back by internal divisions – religious divides, linguistic and ethnic differences – and socio-political forces that perpetuate gaps between a country’s promise and its fulfilment.
Also an ex-British colony, Nigeria gained its independence only in 1960. Like the fledgling nations carved out of the heaving subcontinent, Nigeria’s borders were arbitrarily imposed on a hodge-podge of ethnic groups and tribes, many of whom had linguistic, cultural and religious differences. In large part, the country currently has two main religions – Christianity and Islam. And about 250 ethnic groups but three dominant ones – Yoruba (in the Southwest), Igbo (in the Southeast) and Hausa (in the North). Then there are the familiar rifts between classes, between the uber-rich and the ultra-poor.
When A Young Nigerian Won ‘The Miss World’ Title
As a newly independent nation, subjected to years of militia rule, and only recently democratized (in 1999), the national identity is unsurprisingly fragile. So, in 2001, when Agbani Darego won The Miss World title at Sun City, in South Africa, the country went almost ballistic.
There are several reasons for this. It was the first time ever, in the pageant’s 50-year-history, that a Black African had been awarded the crown. While this might speak more about the pageant’s racialization of “beauty” or about whether any unproblematic construct of “beauty” can be fashioned at all, the jubilation in Nigeria did not accord it with any kind of trivial status.
On her return, eighteen-year-old Darego was feted like an Olympic champion or a Nobel Prize winner. To cite a few responses, the National Assembly paused activities when she popped in for a visit. Her car was mobbed by cheering fans, when she journeyed to her father’s hometown. Everywhere she went, she was invited to receptions and state events, lauded by the country’s foremost business persons and political leaders. As Balogun observes, “A portrait of her was hung in the National Assembly.”
It was almost like everyone had been waiting for a moment like this. To announce to the world that Nigeria had arrived. That this was not just the land of internet scams, corruption, poverty, despots and dictators. But a modern state where young, articulate women could outshine those from other countries, and perhaps to borrow the American cliché, fulfil their dreams. Darego even accompanied Nigerian leaders to Western capitals to promote tourism, her sash and crown adding oomph to the country’s hitherto ignored allure.
Home-grown Pageants Mushroom
Darego’s widely-publicized national celebration did not merely lead to her own success. It fired up desires in millions of other Nigerian parents and young women. More than that, it fuelled a whole ecosystem of organizers, grooming coaches, beauticians, cosmetic brands, dietitians and so on – the whole apparatus that surrounds “Beauty” when it is played out in intensely competitive arenas. Beyond direct spinoffs, it rippled into other sectors. Leading, for instance, to burgeoning business in Tourism, Hospitality and Telecom.
Beyond the economic growth generated by the growing Beauty business, the country also consciously capitalized on other values that could be pinned on contestants. Like “Peace” and “Unity”, values that had been difficult to market without captivating brand ambassadors. As Balogun notes, these women were being used as a form of “currency” – to promote messages about Nigerian hospitality and democracy. This was a means of building hard and soft power – wherein material gains were accompanied by symbolic payoffs. Balogun uses the term “Aesthetic Capital” – as in the nation accruing a certain global image, that no doubt has the seductiveness that advertisers might imbue their products or experiences with. Of course, the contestants and pageant owners were also leveraging such capital.
Tugs Between Labor and Capital
But like in any other industry, there were familiar tugs between labor and capital. Building “Aesthetic Capital” involves “Aesthetic Labor” – which is often the work put in by aspiring contestants. After all, applying to and then participating in such contests requires hard work – workouts, constant adherence to diets, skincare regimes, haircare routines, facial masks. Aspirants also have to train themselves to walk in a certain way, and improve their postures. All this not only takes time, but also money. So they often need to raise resources from their own communities to fund their grooming and entry.
Those are just the physical aspects. Like in most pageants, contestants are also expected to fit a certain kind of personality mold – wherein, they are smart but not too aggressive, articulate but also compliant. They are expected to speak comfortably in public forums, exuding sparks perhaps, but not engaging in complete takedowns of systems.
There is another contradiction that they are expected to absorb, and easily wield. While contestants are expected to be ambitious – why else would they subject their bodies and minds to such sacrifice and discipline? – they also need to exude a charitable, nationalist or community-oriented outlook. Besides, members of their own communities who might have funded their journeys might expect paybacks. More than that, the nation expects them to carry the burden of its ideals on their persona. They can hardly acknowledge that they just want to make money and get ahead, even if that underlying motive overrides many others.
But as Balogun points out, there are several stakeholders in such contests. Starting with the pageant owners, the fans, the judges, the corporate sponsors, the local politicians and so on, the payouts are distributed among many. Often contestants feel that their own labor is not being rewarded adequately. After all, for many, the investments do not result in expected rewards.
Different Contests for Different Aspirations
The contests also reflect the various cultural layers that constitute the morphing country. “Queen Nigeria” attempts to exude a “girl next door” vibe. In this contest, women were “expected to cook a regional dish – hence making them seem more grounded and relatable – and were also expected to bare less skin than in other contests.” On the other hand, the Most Beautiful Girl in Nigeria (MBGN) , which feeds into The Miss World lineup, is unabashed about wanting the exact opposite. Aspirants are required to wear bikinis and stiletto heels, right at the audition stage. And to turn around, 360-degrees, while their bodies and possibly dispassionate expressions are being scrutinized by judges.
Some of the dynamics captured by Balogun are also highlighted by Michiel Baas in Muscular India, wherein he dwells on the manner in which fitness trainers in India use their “bodily capital” for upward mobility. In the Nigerian context, as Balogun observes, the contestants have become the nation’s diplomats. Aesthetic capital is being leveraged to generate political capital. Even as nations imagine that they flaunt particular values or singular cultures, global forces ripple through borders, uplifting some and trampling others, but turning all countries into fascinating sites for imaginative academics.
References
Oluwakemi M. Balogun, Beauty Diplomacy: Embodying an Emerging Nation, Stanford University Press, 2020