Introduction: Research in the Shadow of Insecurity
Research on climate change and local communities sometimes takes place in environments marked by insecurity and instability (Mena R, Hilhorst D 2022; Ferguson, P. 2019; Mena, R. 2018). In these contexts, the researcher is no longer a simple observer. Military constraints, mistrust, power relations and ethical dilemmas become part of research process itself .. Drawing on exploratory fieldwork in eastern Democratic Republic of Congo, this blog argues that gaining and maintaining research access in insecure settings requires the continuous negotiation of the researcher’s identity and position. Crucially, the very strategies used to create safety and access, such as adapting one’s self-presentation, documents, movements, or intermediaries may also generate new suspicions.
This experience formed part of the exploratory fieldwork for my doctoral research on how artisanal fishers in the Great Lakes region navigate changing access to fishery resources and markets under conditions of climate change, security volatile and gouvernance fragmentation. While travelling from an M23-controlled area into territory controlled by the FARDC (Armed Forces of the Democratic Republic of Congo), I found that my presence could immediately raise suspicion. Some official documents, bearing the seal of the authorities in the area I was coming from, could be interpreted as evidence of collusion. In these circumstances, saying I was a researcher wasn’t always the safest way to explain my presence. Presenting myself as a student was sometimes less risky. Access was therefore not secured once and for all; it depended on how my presence was interpreted at each point of the journey.
This experience reminded that the researcher’s position in the field and never completely fixed. Erard, L.-O. (2003) and Olivier de Sardan (2004) Show that the researcher’s position is relational and shaped by context. In situations of insecurity, this becomes particularly visible, The way I was perceived changed depending on the location, the person I was speaking to, the documents I carried, and the power relations at play.
On the researcher’s journey: vigilance, improvisation, and daily survival
Security-monitoring arrangements provided by the Angaza Institute of ISDR Bukavu, helped me follow changes in routes, filed sites, and perceived threats throughout the fieldwork. However, once on the ground, security plans confronted a fluid reality, marked by military checkpoints, disputed areas, the presence of the Wazalendo or the M23, administrative difficulties, and unforeseen logistical challenges. Each trip became negotiation of my presence and of the conditions under which I could continue the research.
Mobility also revealed the material fragility of the research. Means of transport were sometimes difficult to find, while available boats could be requisitioned by the army to transport prisoners or military equipment. I also sometimes stayed in the same hotels as officers returning from the front. Under these conditions, I explore Baraka as possible alternative field site, as it was an area less contested by different armed stakeholders The choice was not only scientific, it was also a practical security decision therefore not only a scientific consideration, but also a security decision that reduced my exposure to highly contested areas.
I therefore had to adjust my movements, my interactions, and even what I revealed about my work. Caution was no longer simply an external constraint; it became part of how access to the field was produced and maintained .
Identity, trust and the negotiation of access
One of the most difficult aspects of this experience concerned self-presentation. In an environment where a document, an accent, a relationship, or one’s origin can be interpreted politically, clearly explaining who you are is not always enough to gain trust. My access depended not only on what I said about myself, but also on how others interpreted the relationships surrounding me.
This question of identity was as well closely linked to the choice of intermediaries, who often acted as gatekeepers. In my experience, the person who introduced me to the communities mattered almost as much as how I presented myself. Their reputation, their relationships with the authorities, and their ties to the community could facilitate access or, conversely, increase the risks.
Trust was therefore built gradually, through relationships and daily interactions. It could not be presumed based on academic status or an official letter from my university.
The literature has long highlighted the ethical difficulties associated with self-presentation in environments characterized by insecurity, suspicion, and power dynamics (Nordstrom & Robben , 1995; Boumaza & Campana, 2007). E. Mudinga (2016) emphasizes the importance of self-presentation and research practices in mitigating incidents in violent conflict settings.
My experience suggests that, in critical contexts, transparency must be negotiated alongside security imperatives. I traveled with the necessary documents, while avoiding unnecessarily displaying those that might raise questions. Presenting myself as a normal student rather than a researcher, limiting certain information about my travels, or lightening my bag were not theoretical choices. They were daily practices intended to reduce risks and preserve access.
Yet these adaptations contained a paradox. A modified self-presentation could facilitate access and security, but it could also generate new suspicion. As Mutabesha (2026) points out, in a critical context, multiple self-presentations do not necessarily produce trust and can lead some interlocutors to associate variations in identity with suspicious practices.
This is one of the main lessons I take away: the challenge is not simply to choose between transparency and concealment. it’s to recognize that self-presentation is context-dependent, situated, interpreted, and potentially politicized. The same strategy that protects a researcher in one setting may create uncertainty in another.
What the field ultimately taught me
This experience ultimately led me to view research in insecure areas as a practice of continuous negotiation adaptation. Every move, interaction, and self-presentation could affect my safety and the possibility of maintaining access to the field.
Fieldwork taught me three Connected lessons. First, a researcher’s identity is relational and can change with context. Second, access is negotiated, through every day interactions, relationships, documents, and intermediaries, rather than secured simply by academic status or an official letter. Third, strategies designed to reduce risk do not always produce the desired effect. They can protect the researcher, while also creating new forms of suspicion.
Conducting research in a context of insecurity is therefore not simply about collecting data. It requires learning how to position oneself, negotiate one’s presence, and adapt research practices while remaining attentive to ethical responsibilities. Security becomes part of the relational work through which field work remains possible.
In these environments, science also becomes a learning of the ordinary. Learning when to speak, what to show, how to move , and whom to trust, Such attention to everyday practices, norms, and codes matters in any empirical research, but in unstable contexts these norms and codes can be continuously renegotiated. Knowing how to navigate them can become essential to the safety of both researcher and participants. This is the lesson I carry into my others next fieldwork: access is never simply given; it is continuously negotiated.