Val Plumwood, "Environmental Culture: The Ecological Crisis of Reason" (Book Note)

 

Plumwood's book, "Environmental Culture," presents a challenge to traditional ethics and environmentalism by advocating for the development of an environmental culture. Rather than proposing a theory solely focused on nature's moral standing or a manifesto for environmental values, Plumwood calls for an ongoing culture where ethical relationships with the biosphere are integral to human flourishing. The urgency of this call arises from the potential entrenchment of human recklessness towards the environment within various aspects of Western and globalized forms of life. Plumwood suggests that our views on humanity, rationality, science, politics, economics, self-health, relationships, spirituality, and religion may all contribute to unsustainable environmental practices.

 

Plumwood's book makes a valuable contribution by addressing the need for cultural change and offering suggestions for transforming aspects of our globalized culture. However, the delivery is hindered by unclear arguments, jargon, and the tendency to make sweeping empirical claims without sufficient evidence. Despite these shortcomings, the book remains useful for its insights and challenges, even if it lacks a robust argument.

 

The core of Plumwood's argument revolves around the claim that what is considered rational within global capitalism and Western culture is, in reality, irrational. Plumwood contends that the prevailing form of rationality leads to self-destruction on the planet, unethical treatment of the biosphere, and a failure to promote human flourishing. The central idea is that rationality should promote ecological relationships, and any form of reason that neglects or harms these relationships should be deemed irrational. Plumwood emphasizes the need for a shift in our form of life to embody an ecologically sound understanding of human flourishing.

 

Plumwood critiques the current understanding of rationality, drawing attention to its focus on maximizing self-interest, human-centric ends, an ontological split between humanity and the biosphere, objectification in scientific practice, and a lack of awareness regarding place-based and interspecies relationships. However, her arguments face challenges. Firstly, her characterization of rationality focuses on ends and ontologies, deviating from the conventional understanding of rationality as primarily concerned with means to ends. Secondly, the sources of this unified notion of rationality remain obscure, with references to Cartesianism, eighteenth-century political economy, capitalism, Christianity, and sexism lacking systematic articulation and evidence.

 

Plumwood's empirical claims about the destructive consequences of capitalism's rationality and the unethical treatment of the biosphere are contentious and lack comprehensive evidence. The distinction between unethical behavior due to human wantonness and disrespect towards the biosphere could be clearer, as these aspects are not adequately distinguished or interrelated in her argument.

In the introductory chapter, Plumwood outlines two pivotal challenges crucial for the success of a transition to an environmental culture. The first challenge is the "re-situating of the human in ecological terms," while the second challenge involves the "re-situating of the non-human in ethical terms." Essentially, Plumwood advocates for the development of a human ecology coupled with a non-anthropocentric ecological ethics.

 

As the book primarily addresses the ecological crisis in contemporary Western society, one of its main targets for critique is science. Plumwood contends that much of contemporary science reflects a "form of monological and dualistic thinking," where scientists distance themselves radically from the objects of knowledge, denying these objects elements of commonality, mind, or intentionality. This rationalist perspective leads to the objectification, complete knowability, and technological manageability of nature, reducing it to something replicable and replaceable. Plumwood argues that such thinking is inherently anti-ecological, neglecting or ignoring humanity's interconnectedness and embeddedness in non-human nature. She suggests that this dualistic model of science is expanding, particularly with a significant portion of scientists employed by corporations, turning science more towards manipulation and less towards understanding, with knowledge acquisition justified primarily by instrumental concerns.

 

Plumwood's critique extends beyond social justice advocacy, encompassing a deep concern for non-human nature. She presents an elaborate critique of anthropocentrism, arguing that a radically rationalistic worldview bifurcates the world into separate realms of active, knowing 'subjects' (humans) and passive, knowable 'objects' (nature), resulting in a "radical discontinuity" between humans and non-human nature.

 

She identifies four ways in which this dualistic human-centeredness is fundamentally anti-ecological and hubristic. Firstly, it justifies an ethics that does not extend beyond the "human-species boundary," neglecting ethical considerations for non-human nature. Secondly, human dependency on nature is downplayed or denied, reducing ecology to a mere "technological problem to be overcome" and fostering a false sense of human autonomy. Thirdly, nature is defined by what it lacks in its non-humanness, becoming a purely negative space devoid of culture, cultivation, and improvements. Finally, nature's independent agency is erased, and its value is only assessed concerning human interests. Plumwood argues that overcoming these "blindspots of centrism and human self-enclosure" is essential for the survival of both humans and nature in an age of ecological limits.

 

Plumwood goes beyond the general feminist critique of dualistic conceptions of rationality, which often focuses on the creation of hierarchies between opposed categories such as masculine knowing subjects and feminine objects. Instead of merely discussing dualisms as a failure to assign appropriate value to the denigrated, she argues that ethical emphasis on value and rights perpetuates rankings, replicating hierarchical structures and measuring all other life in comparison to humans. Plumwood proposes a shift from the project of extending human-centered thought to recognizing the value of others in relation to human worth. Instead, she advocates for starting with basic respect for all life and approaching others with an ethos of intentional recognition and openness.

 

Plumwood acknowledges that the alternatives she suggests challenge the existing order deeply at various levels. Her critical argument centers on the observation that prevalent conceptions of rationality hinder the recognition of nonhumans as agents with their own communication systems and ways of being mindful, different from humans. Beginning with the belief that the other is potentially communicative, Plumwood argues for an ethos of intentional recognition, emphasizing the richness of communicative possibilities in the world. She encourages viewing relationships with the world as dialogues rather than monologues, where meaningful communication is not limited to humans or elite humans.

 

Throughout the book, Plumwood emphasizes the irrationality inherent in what is often considered rationality. She critiques the failure to appreciate the interconnectedness between humans and the natural world, labeling it as a highly irrational response. While she critiques specific modes of rationality, she relies on another understanding of rationality to develop her critique. Plumwood presents a positive conception of rationality as a form of life, emphasizing balance, harmony, and reconcilability among an organism's identities, faculties, and ends. True rationality, according to Plumwood, involves socially and ecologically healthy decisions, acknowledging the embodiment of knowers, the contextuality of knowledge, and the necessity of caring for flourishing.

 

Plumwood's work illuminates how distortions in reason and culture contribute to life-threatening ecological denial. In her multi-dimensional account of the crisis of reason, she reveals the connections between culture's destructive practices, ethical and spiritual shortcomings, and the failure to recognize ourselves as ecological beings. Drawing from feminist thought, post-colonial theory, indigenous philosophy, and extensive research, Plumwood provides a thought-provoking diagnosis of cultural illusions contributing to the contemporary environmental crisis.

Environmental culture exposes the anthropocentric logic of human self-enclosure, which masquerades as rationality and infiltrates various cultural spheres. Plumwood argues that a disembedded economic system collaborates with an instrumentalist, profit-driven science, creating a reductionist form of science that deadens the natural world. This reductionist science fosters illusions of power over nature, contributing to conceptual blindspots and dislocation between production and consumption. Political and economic systems normalize biospheric degradation, suppressing critical reflexive feedback.

 

Plumwood challenges divisive dualisms, revealing humans as ecologically embedded and nonhumans as ethical subjects. She advocates for caring and life-affirming forms of rationality, fostering inter-species dialogue and mutual flourishing. Her materialist and place-based spirituality contributes to a critical political ecology. She proposes an integrated, democratic, ethically responsive vision of science that respects the agency of the more-than-human world. Plumwood advocates for reducing remoteness as a political goal for ecological rationality, rejecting eco-authoritarian solutions and promoting procedural and participatory democracy.

 

She rejects the separation and privileging of reason over nature, critiquing the delusion that human rationality elevates us above the natural world. Plumwood emphasizes ecosystems' interdependence and agency, advocating for an environmental ethics of care. This moral framework aligns prudential and ethical treatment of non-humans, emphasizing respectful and supportive relationships with the natural world.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Colonialism and Nationalism

 

Colonialism and nationalism are intricately intertwined frameworks that shape colonies, nations, and their interrelations. The dialectical connection between colonialism and nationalism is evident, as colonialism gives rise to anticolonial nationalism, while nationalism poses a threat to ongoing colonial occupation. At the core of postcolonialism's explanatory framework lies colonialism, revealing discursive strategies of domination and subordination deeply ingrained in colonial culture.

The colonialists played a pivotal role in establishing elite classes, thereby perpetuating colonial dominance. However, this also resulted in the subaltern classes, particularly peasants and workers, falling under the sway of both colonial and elitist control. Even in the post-colonial era, remnants of colonial domination persist through discourses rooted in essentialism and orientalism. The struggle against these enduring power dynamics continues to shape the narratives of postcolonial societies.

The role and functioning of nationalism in the decolonization process have been extensively examined, but disagreements persist regarding its impact. An evaluation of the relationship between nationalism and colonial difference reveals a distinction between political and cultural nationalism. Political nationalism aimed to contest the notion of 'colonial difference' in external realms, while cultural nationalism sought to uphold it, albeit in a reformed and reshaped manner, within internal spheres.

 

Benedict Anderson, in his seminal work 'Imagined Communities,' delved into the genesis and global dissemination of nationalism. He argued that understanding the roots of anti-colonial nationalisms involved acknowledging the pivotal role played by native 'bilingual intelligentsias.' These individuals, with exposure to "modern Western culture," including models of nationalism, nation-ness, and nation-state from the nineteenth century, played a crucial role. African anti-colonial leaders such as Nyerere and Nkrumah, fluent in the language of their colonial rulers and having lived in Europe or North America, drew on their experiences to shape nationalist consciousness. Denied positions of power by colonial regimes, they emerged as spokespersons for anti-colonial nationalism.

 

However, critics, including Loomba, challenge Anderson's perspective, contending that it denies agency to the colonized world. Loomba suggests that accepting this explanation implies that "anti-colonial nationalism is itself made possible and shaped by European political and intellectual history," reducing it to a 'derivative discourse' dependent on colonial power's models and language. The Subaltern Studies collective, particularly Chatterjee, seeks to challenge this notion, questioning what is left for nationalisms if they must choose from 'modular' forms made available by Europe and the Americas. Chatterjee contends that Europe and the Americas not only scripted "colonial enlightenment and exploitation" but also "anti-colonial resistance and post-colonial misery," suggesting that imaginations remain perpetually colonized.

 

Chatterjee, while critical of Anderson's Euro-centrism, acknowledges that anti-colonial nationalism focused on differences between Western and Asian/African identities rather than a particular identity or derivation. To comprehend anti-colonial nationalisms, it is essential to scrutinize not only borrowed elements from colonial powers but also how 'colonial difference' was both challenged and maintained.

To comprehend the intricate dynamics between nationalism and colonial difference, it proves beneficial to delineate between nationalism as a political movement (in the outer domain) and as a cultural construct (in the inner domain). While political nationalism strives to challenge the colonial state, cultural nationalism allows the colonized subject to carve out an autonomous personal space. The latter process, occurring before the commencement of political struggles, serves to "fashion a modern project that is nevertheless not Western," as articulated by Chatterjee, marking the genesis of the imagined community.

 

In the realm of anti-colonial nationalism, sovereignty is often asserted over facets such as language, religion, literature, art, education, and popular culture. This cultural assertion, labeled a "fundamental feature of anti-colonial nationalisms in Asia and Africa" by Chatterjee, showcases the multifaceted nature of the resistance. Intellectuals like Joseph Caseley-Hayford and J. B Danquah in the Gold Coast leveraged rhetoric and discourse as "politics by other means," intertwining literary efforts with an ideological project, often synonymous with assertive militancy.

 

Simultaneously, filmmakers in Africa, according to Akudinobi, played a pivotal role in formulating nationalist discourses, incorporating indigenous elements into their works as a form of advocating alternative representational paradigms. Anti-colonial nationalism vehemently emphasized the distinction between the cultures of the colonizer and the colonized within the inner domain, aiming to resist the influence of modern disciplinary power structures.

 

Conversely, in the outer domain where nationalism operates as a political movement, the objective is to obliterate the marks of colonial difference. Colonial rule derived power from affirming the alienness of the ruling group, often manifested through racial and linguistic distinctions. Anti-colonial nationalists sought to undermine 'colonial difference' by revealing the inherent incongruity between colonial rule and the modern power regimes constructed by the colonialists. Nelson Mandela in South Africa and Emir Khalid in Algeria strategically leveraged notions of enlightened modern states to assert their rights, exposing the tension between colonial policies and the modern regime of power.

 

This contradictory relationship between nationalism and 'colonial difference' remains pertinent today, underscoring the fundamental similarities between colonial and postcolonial states. The techniques of rule emphasizing political unity and the centrality of culture and gender, wherein women often symbolize the preservation of cultural and spiritual purity, persist in both contexts. Thus, differentiating between political and cultural nationalism allows us to trace a contradictory process that continues to shape contemporary postcolonial realities.

 

 

 

 

 

 

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Rafael Perez-Torres, "Mestizaje: Critical Uses of Race in Chicano Culture" (Book Note)

 

In "Mestizaje: Critical Uses of Race in Chicano Culture," Pérez-Torres explores the concept of race mixture among Chicanos, asserting the significance of a Chicano mestizo voice. He argues that in the Latino New World, bodies of racially mixed individuals symbolize sites embodying awareness of social inequity and the resulting contradictions. Pérez-Torres contends that Chicano popular art, literature, and expressive culture prominently feature the theme of race mixture or 'mestizaje,' driving cultural production. The focus spans Chicano popular music, poster art, and literature, emphasizing the role of mestizo voices in challenging the dominant US social order.

 

Pérez-Torres's understanding of mestizaje extends beyond biological notions of race-mixture to encompass social and cultural phenomena like 'transculturation' and 'hybridity.' Positioned within cultural criticism's exploration of contact zones and borderlands, his use of the term 'mestizaje' with explicit racial connotations stands out. This choice contrasts with Nestór García Canclini's preference for 'hybridization,' reflecting a broader perspective beyond biological race and a rejection of the nationalist narrative tied to the term 'mestizaje' in the Mexican context.

 

Pérez-Torres embraces 'mestizaje' for Chicanos due to its explicit racial dimension, challenging mainstream US discourses that often overlook Chicano experiences of racialization. He asserts the centrality of race as a critical intervention in Chicano criticism, which tends to focus on borderlands, violence, and bilingualism. Pérez-Torres sees the racial dimension of a critical mestizo voice as crucial for revealing the asymmetrical race relations in US society and empowering mestizas and mestizos to adopt new subjectivities that address a history of racial conflict. Ultimately, Pérez-Torres explores how cultural mestizaje embodies both utopian possibilities of aggregation and the contradictions and tensions produced by racial mixture, shaping the cultural expression of Chicano thought and identity.

 

In each chapter of this book, Pérez-Torres presents a cultural and political study in essay form, delving into various aspects of the mestizo voice. The introduction and first chapter lay the foundation for his concept of mestizaje, offering a detailed examination of academic and popular perspectives on race mixture. Chapter 2 explores mestizo voice in diverse texts, including the film Giant and the writings of Oscar 'Zeta' Acosta and Sandra Cisneros. Chapter 3 delves into the musical realm, analyzing artists like Los Lobos, Delinquent Habits, and Rage Against the Machine, who consciously employ formal mestizaje by blending distinct sounds and musical influences. Chapter 4 focuses on the role of Chicano public art, specifically poster art, in shaping notions of mestizaje. Chapters 5 and 6 center on the mestizo body as a site of knowledge, examining literary works by Emma Pérez, Gil Cuadros, Gary Soto, Victor Martinez, and Pat Mora.

 

While Pérez-Torres's writing occasionally delves into theoretical intricacies, his more compelling analyses emerge from close readings of specific cultural and literary texts. Chapter 3, for instance, provides a focused and concise analysis of three albums released in 1996 by Los Angeles musicians, revealing a critical dialogue about Chicano and American consciousness. Although the analysis leans toward celebrating a Chicano masculine aesthetic, subsequent chapters explore mestizo and mestiza voices that challenge normative assertions of Chicano identity, acknowledging the diversity within this cultural landscape.

 

The study's primary strength lies in its detailed exploration of mestizo and mestiza voices. However, this focus may result in a limitation, as it overlooks a broader dialogue with other discourses on racial and ethnic self-identification. Pérez-Torres acknowledges that his study aims to trace how race mixture embodies awareness of social inequity and contradictions. Nevertheless, his claims about mestizaje's liberatory potential prompt consideration of engaging with the discursive silences and alternative perspectives within the discourse. For instance, a comprehensive study of race mixture for US Mexican origin peoples should address the common discursive exclusion of African ancestry from the mixed racial heritage of Mexican and US Mexican descent individuals. Additionally, while many identify as mestizos and mestizas, others choose alternative racial/ethnic self-conceptualizations, such as 'Latinos and Latinas,' 'Mexican-Americans,' 'Hispanics,' 'Spanish-Americans,' 'indigenous,' or 'bi-racial.' Engaging with these diverse voices is essential for a nuanced understanding of Chicano perspectives on race and race mixture.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Alastair Pennycook, "English and the Discourses of Colonialism" (Book Note)

 

The core argument of Pennycook’s book English and the Discourses of Colonialism posits that colonialism is a pivotal locus of cultural production, generating enduring cultural constructs that continue to shape the contemporary world. Alastair Pennycook urges scholars, researchers, and educators to reconsider colonialism not merely as a backdrop for the imposition of European colonial cultures onto colonized nations but as a source of discourses with enduring influence across broad domains of Western thought and culture. Pennycook emphasizes the importance of viewing colonialism not only in terms of its impact on the colonized but also as a producer of discourses that have lasting effects on Western perspectives.

 

Pennycook advocates for a shift away from patronizing attempts to speak for others and instead encourages a self-reflexive approach to explore how colonialism has constructed Western ways of being. This approach allows for a nuanced examination of one's position and invites others to engage in similar self-reflection.

 

The book's primary objective is to unravel the intricate connections between English and English language teaching in the colonial enterprise, shedding light on the language's enduring role in the contemporary world. Contrary to the prevailing liberal discourse portraying English as a neutral global communication tool, Pennycook contends that it still carries the weight of colonial discourses and implications. While the book may not initially appear pertinent to technical writing instructors, Pennycook contends that educators in diverse classrooms, where multiple languages and cultures intersect, must comprehend the history of their instructional language. Understanding how this language was entangled with colonial constructions of Self and Other is crucial for effectively engaging with a diverse student body. In this context, Pennycook's book offers valuable insights for educators seeking a deeper understanding of the implications of language history in their classrooms.

 

Pennycook initiates his exploration by spotlighting the momentous British withdrawal from Hong Kong in 1997, signifying the conclusion of British colonial rule. Contrary to the notion that this departure marks the eradication of colonial influences, Pennycook asserts that deeper imprints persist. To delve into this assertion, he scrutinizes language policies during British colonialism in India, a crucial arena for the production of colonial ideologies.

 

Within the context of colonial India, Pennycook investigates the emergence of language policies that both mirrored and shaped colonial discourses. He underscores the conflicting narratives surrounding the provision of education for Indians—framed within the discourse of civilizing missions to enlighten supposedly backward populations and the discourse of furnishing a productive and compliant workforce for colonial capitalism. This dichotomy led to the formation of two factions: Anglicism, advocating English as the language of education, and Orientalism, endorsing local languages as the most effective means to disseminate European knowledge in India. Despite their rivalry, Pennycook contends that Anglicism and Orientalism were interdependent and complicit in colonialism, as both factions, in their distinct ways, contributed to the perpetuation of colonial rule. Thus, the debates on colonial language policies expose the paradox of language education being a dual instrument within colonial governance, serving the interests of both colonial languages and indigenous languages.

 

Pennycook's argument about the complicity of Anglicist and Orientalist discourses in the overarching colonial project carries potential implications for contemporary discussions on language policies in multicultural Canada. He emphasizes the need for a meticulous examination of whose interests different language policies serve, cautioning against a simplistic advocacy for liberal multiculturalism over conservative Euro-Canadian perspectives. Instead, he advocates for an inquiry into the broader social, cultural, political, and economic frameworks that underlie and are sustained by these language ideologies.

 

Shifting his focus, Pennycook investigates colonial language policies in Malaya, the Straits Settlements, and Hong Kong. Despite the distinctive circumstances of each colony, he observes a cross-flow of colonial ideologies—Anglicism and Orientalism emerging as varied approaches to leveraging education for colonial objectives. In Pennycook's analysis, the noteworthy aspect of these debates lies in the simultaneous construction of dichotomies between Self and Other. English becomes associated with traits such as "enlightened," "rational," and "superior," while local languages are marked with qualities like "inscrutable," "deviant," and "inferior." These constructed binaries, he argues, persisted and adhered to English, shaping enduring legacies of colonialism. Pennycook contends that debates on the supremacy of English have left an indelible mark on the global proliferation of the language in the contemporary era, framing it as a more viable option in the new world order.

 

 

In the chapter titled "Images of the Self," Pennycook directs his focus toward a specific facet of colonial image production—the construction of English. He meticulously catalogues numerous examples that bolster the perception of English as a rich and advanced language, emphasizing the belief that English speakers, due to their extensive vocabulary, are inherently superior thinkers. Analyzing discourses on English prevalent in popular culture, including language books, magazines, and newspapers, Pennycook highlights striking parallels between the rhetoric of nineteenth-century writers on the English language and contemporary discussions on the global dominance of English. He contends that popular discourses exert a more profound influence than academic discourses in shaping policies, curricula, practices, and research agendas, as educators immersed in language education are invariably surrounded by the everyday images of English embedded in popular culture.

 

Relevant to multicultural classrooms, Pennycook underscores the adverse consequences stemming from these discourses surrounding English. He identifies a particularly insidious outcome—the hierarchical relationship between native and non-native English speakers. This division, a classic dichotomy resulting from colonial cultural constructs, categorizes the world into English speakers and non-native English speakers. Pennycook acknowledges the formidable challenge educators face in challenging and altering beliefs and practices ingrained in binaristic thinking embedded in colonial constructions of Self and Other.

 

Chapter 6, titled "Images of the Other," shifts the focus to the flip side of the dichotomy, examining how discourses of colonialism have shaped perceptions of Chinese culture. Pennycook argues that popular and academic discourses collaborate to produce cultural constructs of the inscrutable Other, citing contrastive rhetoric—a domain within applied linguistics—as complicit in perpetuating an Orientalist view of the Other as both deviant and culturally fixed. Launching a robust critique of practices in applied linguistics, Pennycook contends that the discipline lacks a critical dimension, often assuming that teaching, learning, testing, and language policies are rationally describable within applied linguistic constructions of reality.

 

In the concluding chapter, Pennycook delves into the potential for resisting popular discursive constructions of Self and Other. Acknowledging the pervasive adherence of these discourses to English and their constant reinvocation in various contexts, he emphasizes the difficulty of effecting change. Pennycook cautions against a simplistic embrace of English in postcolonial reasoning and calls for the development of counterdiscourses capable of challenging the continued influence of colonial discourses on English. He argues that unless cultural alternatives to the constructs of colonialism can be found within and against English, colonial legacies will persist in English classrooms and numerous global contexts.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Yasmin Khan, "The Great Partition:The Making of India and Pakistan" (Book Note)

 

 

The term 'Partition' carries profound and poignant significance in the South Asian context, unlike its more benign usage elsewhere. Nearly seven decades ago, as the British relinquished control over the 'jewel in the crown' of their Empire, the subcontinent witnessed the birth of two independent nations—Pakistan and India. This momentous event, marked by unprecedented violence, symbolized not just the end of colonial rule but also the dawn of independence. It served as the pivotal point, a year zero, in the national histories of two nations, initiating a complex process of 'othering' between neighboring countries that persists to this day.

 

The partition of South Asia, occurring as a singular event, encapsulated multifaceted meanings—it was the culmination of colonialism, the attainment of independence, and the genesis of a reciprocal 'othering.' The aftermath brought forth mass migrations, fraught with challenges such as loss, violence, displacement, resettlement, identity renegotiation, and the grappling with traumas and legacies. In essence, the partition of the subcontinent was aptly termed 'the great partition.'

 

The author advocates for a more humanistic understanding of displacement by drawing parallels between the South Asian events of 1946–47 and analogous occurrences worldwide. They call for interdisciplinary collaboration, lamenting the disconnect between historical approaches and social-scientific perspectives on displacement. This disconnect, as the author notes, hinders a comprehensive grasp of the phenomenon.

 

Turning back to the specifics of the 1947 events, the author underscores the importance of diversifying the study of Partition history. They propose examining it through various lenses, from the intensely personal and emotional individual and family experiences to the local, national, and transnational perspectives.

 

The preface also delves into the narrative aspect, cautioning against the limitations and risks of overly factional and simplistic Partition narratives. The author acknowledges the progress made in Partition scholarship over the years, leading to a deeper understanding of the events. However, they highlight the persistent neglect of crucial aspects, particularly the need to investigate and comprehend the roles of perpetrators—individuals, communities, and political leaders—in orchestrating the bloodshed.

 

The Introduction of the book lays out its primary themes, which subsequent chapters delve into analytically. These themes include the inaccuracies in the Partition plan and its repercussions, the pivotal role of the South Asian middle class, the unprecedented violence stemming from the creation of new borders and the resulting refugee crisis, and the initiation in India and Pakistan of a dialectical process of self-definition and definition of the other rooted deeply in the Partition narrative.

 

The first chapter delves into the historical background of Partition, dispelling the notion that it was a sudden and inexplicable event. Instead, it demonstrates its deep roots in the transformations occurring in urban India, accelerated by the wartime industrial boom. Additionally, it highlights the impact of wartime politics, the demobilization of the Indian Army, and the politicization of religious identity during colonial rule.

 

The second chapter focuses on the Indian general elections of 1946, exploring the politicization and polarization of religious sentiments fueled by the electoral propaganda of both the Muslim League and the Indian National Congress. The third chapter scrutinizes the Cabinet Mission's plan of March 1946, intended to facilitate the British handover of power, and criticizes the dangerous ambiguity surrounding the concept of Pakistan championed by the Muslim League.

 

The fourth chapter analyzes the 'Collapse of Trust' among political leaders and the general populace against the backdrop of escalating violence, starting with the Direct Action Day of August 1946 in Bengal. This crisis rapidly intensified in Punjab, descending into civil war, with policymakers in London showing a disinterest.

 

Chapter five explores the approval of the Partition plan by the Indian National Congress and the British, examining the reactions from various sections of the population. The sixth chapter details the actual partition of land and people on the Western border, highlighting the oversights of the Boundary Commission's plan and the resultant shock and anxiety among Punjabis, especially Sikhs.

 

In the summer of 1947, the actual war begins, as described in the seventh chapter, depicting the rushed withdrawal of the British, ethnic cleansing in Punjab, and the psychological mechanisms of violence triggered by anxiety, rumors, and propaganda. The eighth chapter portrays the contradictions and challenges faced by the newly formed nations in the aftermath, including food scarcity, a paralyzed state, and the ambivalence surrounding Independence Day.

 

Chapter nine examines the immediate consequences of mass migration, analyzing the experiences of refugees and the efforts made by both governments to address the challenges of resettlement. The tenth chapter focuses on the individual traumas inflicted by displacement, advocating for a more humanized history of Partition displacement.

 

In conclusion, "The Great Partition" is a thoroughly researched, well-written, and humanistic book that imparts essential lessons. It dispels the notion of Partition as an abrupt and inexplicable event, revealing it as the culmination of historical, political, and psychological processes. It emphasizes that Partition was not unavoidable, implicating various actors, including the sudden withdrawal of the British and segments of the Indian middle class. Lastly, it recognizes Partition as the genesis of a new era, marked by collective and individual traumas that continue to resonate even after seven decades.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Pieterse & Parekh , "The Decolonization of Imagination: Culture, Knowledge and Power " (Book Note)

 

"The Decolonization of Imagination: Culture, Knowledge, and Power" is a collection of fourteen essays contributing to the expanding body of literature on postcolonial theory. The lead chapter, titled "Shifting Imaginaries: Decolonization, Internal Decolonization, Postcoloniality," delves into the complexity of colonization and its creation of a fusion of old and new, endogenous and foreign elements, forming a consciousness resistant to straightforward analysis. The editors emphasize that decolonization is an equally intricate process that necessitates the imaginative construction of a new consciousness and way of life, involving both colonizers and the colonized.

 

The decolonization of imagination, as proposed by Nederveen and Parekh, is highlighted as a crucial aspect, emphasizing the relationship between power, culture, domination, and the imaginary. The significance of images is underscored as agents of both difference and communion, shaping boundaries between self and other. The editors explore three modes of engaging colonial imaginaries: anticolonial progression with nationalism and nativism, internal decolonization critiquing these concepts, and postcoloniality departing from binary thinking and embracing cultural pluralism, acknowledging globalization.

 

"Part One: Imaginaries of Domination" consists of six reflections on colonial imaginaries of domination. These chapters form the most compelling and disquieting section of the book. Patrick Brantlinger's contribution, "'Dying Races': Rationalizing Genocide in the Nineteenth Century," delves into nineteenth-century evolutionism and its assertion that weak races would inevitably face "auto-genocide." Brantlinger focuses on the extinction of Tasmanian aborigines, ultimately suggesting that the rationalizations for race extinction persist, as evidenced by twentieth-century genocides, including ethnic cleansing in the former Yugoslavia. This unsettling proposition implies that the justifications for race extinction continue to influence both colonized and colonizing imaginations.

 

In his chapter titled "Ethnographic Showcases, 1870­­1930," Raymond Corbey discusses the proliferation of ethnographic exhibitions and their role in shaping the identity of Self and Other, particularly in the context of the exploitation of indigenous people. These exhibitions, prevalent in world fairs, colonial exhibitions, and special ethnographic shows, were intricately linked to imperialism, nationalism, commerce, science, and missionary activities. The "colonial natives" became integral to empire and nation-building, sources of profit, and subjects through which the scientific community explored the evolutionary connections between "civilized" and "primitive" man.

 

Corbey highlights the instrumental role played by religious institutions, such as the Roman Catholic and Protestant churches, in portraying non-Western, non-Christian peoples as heathens in need of civilizing and religious efforts. The narratives constructed during this period established a stark opposition between the civilized and the uncivilized, perpetuating the narrative of the ascent to civilization. Importantly, Corbey notes the absence of exploration into the perspective of the Other, such as the Nubian, Pygmy, and Kalmuk, whose viewpoints were generally left unexamined.

 

The author contends that these narratives were constructed from a privileged vantage point, neglecting the perspective of the Other. Tribal cultures were commodified, labeled, scripted, and objectified, becoming characters in a narrative that framed them as backward ancestors awaiting true civilization and religion. Corbey argues that the perceived order in these exhibitions was a constructed reality through which cultural others were appropriated within the context of ethnological displays. In his conclusion, Corbey asserts that the binaries established in ethnocentric exhibitions extend across species boundaries in the form of anthropocentrism and speciesism. The exploitation and objectification observed in these ethnographic showcases, according to Corbey, echo through to contemporary issues related to human-animal relationships.

 

"Liberalism and Colonialism: A Critique of Locke and Mill" by Parekh, delves into the contradictory impulses of liberalism in the context of colonialism. Focusing on the writings of John Locke and John Stuart Mill, Parekh exposes the dual nature of liberalism, encompassing both egalitarianism and inegalitarianism, tolerance and intolerance, and peace and violence. Parekh critiques Locke's and Mill's justifications for colonialism, revealing the flaws in their assumptions and arguing that their theories contribute to the inegalitarian and imperial strands of twentieth-century liberal thought.

 

The subsequent chapters in Part One further explore the enduring impact of the colonizing imagination in the "New World" and beyond, examining colonial imaginaries in Japan and the Middle East. Marion O'Callaghan's "Continuities in Imagination," Hiroshi Yoshioka's "Samurai and Self­Colonization in Japan," and Toine van Teeffelen's "Metaphors and the Middle East: Crisis Discourse on Gaza" provide additional insights into the pervasive influence of colonial perspectives in various global contexts.

 

In Part Two, titled "Imaginaries of Cultural Pluralism," the collection comprises four essays addressing cultural inclusion and exclusion in colonial and postcolonial societies. In the chapter "Culture Wars in the United States: Closing Reflections on the Century of the Colour Line," Ronald Takaki engages in a discussion about American society, contrasting Francis Fukuyama's assertion of the "end of history" with John Lukacs's claim that tribalism has triumphed in the twentieth century. Takaki highlights the 1992 LA riots as a manifestation of intersecting color lines, emphasizing structural economic changes, housing segregation, and the decline of the manufacturing base as contributors to the growth of a black underclass. He criticizes both Fukuyama and Lukacs for overlooking these issues and underscores the importance of understanding the material basis of racial inequality.

 

Additional chapters by Ann Stoler and Jan Berting explore inclusionary and exclusionary attitudes in Southeast Asia and Europe, respectively. Stoler's "Mixed-Bloods' and the Cultural Politics of European Identity in Colonial Southeast Asia" and Berting's "Patterns of Exclusion: Imaginaries of Class, Nation, Ethnicity, and Gender in Europe" delve into the dynamics of identity and exclusion against the backdrop of colonialism. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak's contribution, "Teaching for the Times," addresses the challenges educators face in transnationally teaching literature.

 

Part Three, "Global Imaginaries," features two essays examining contemporary global dynamics. Susantha Goonatilake's "The Self Wandering between Cultural Localization and Globalization" provides insights into the interplay between globalization and localization in various cultural communities. She argues that individual minds navigate the drama between these forces, envisioning a cultural "Lebanonization" as a departure from the traditional notion of "Balkanization." Sol Yurick's "The Emerging Metastate Versus the Politics of Ethno-Nationalist Identity" discusses the tension between cultural fragmentation and the capitalist Metastate, portraying it as a world project aimed at absorbing cultures and establishing its own monoculture.

 

The volume underscores the multifaceted nature of themes related to the decolonization of imagination. While tailored for specialists well-versed in postcolonial theory, the book remains reasonably accessible to readers from diverse disciplines seeking a scholarly yet approachable overview. The editors successfully bring together papers that offer a penetrating analysis of postmodern thought, providing valuable insights into the complex interplay between colonizers and the colonized.

 

 

 

 

 

 

Chidi Okonkwo, "Decolonization Agnostics in Postcolonial Fiction" (Book Note)

 

In "

Decolonization Agonistics," Okonkwo challenges the prevailing trend of assimilating literatures created by ex-colonized peoples for social, political, and psychological remediation. He rejects the stance taken by postcolonial cultural and literary theorists against the historicity of colonial effects, pointing to the inherent liberties within poststructuralist frameworks that allow for shifting positionality. Okonkwo highlights how poststructuralism, aligned with constructionism, permits social actors to continually construct and reconstruct social reality, rendering meanings arbitrary and necessitating updates to align with contemporary exigencies.

 

Okonkwo notes that postmodernism, in rejecting traditional historical analysis approaches, views causality and structure with skepticism. To counter the influence of this theoretical disposition, Okonkwo proposes a reexamination and redefinition of decolonization literatures, utilizing the works of formerly colonized peoples as the basis for his alternative critique in "Decolonization Agonistics."

 

In selecting the literatures of Anglophone Africa, Polynesia, and the West Indies, Okonkwo focuses on regions that shared a colonial experience under a common imperial power—the British. The period of analysis spans from the late 1940s to the early 1990s, considering the acquisition of the art of writing concurrent with colonization. The decision is grounded in the shared colonial history and the proclivity of postcolonial theorists to subordinate decolonization literatures. Okonkwo argues that exploring the clash between indigenous (primarily oral) forms of "esthetic representation" and their exogenous (inherited) counterparts can pave the way for a broader interest in the comparative analysis of such literatures.

 

In the initial chapter of "Decolonization Agonistics," Okonkwo delves into the identity crisis within postcolonial discourse. He contends that the term "postcolonial" in literary discourse is inaccurately influenced by "postmodernist theories of knowledge and culture." Despite the intentions expressed by proponents—integration of marginalized literatures and empowerment of marginalized peoples—the resultant approach, according to Okonkwo, replaces the fundamental principles of decolonization literatures with a "universalist, homogenizing discourse." This, in turn, situates the experiences and priorities of ex-colonized peoples within the "strategic priorities" of the West.

 

Okonkwo expresses skepticism toward a concept of postcoloniality that encompasses not only former colonies in Africa, Asia, and the South Pacific but also English-speaking "European Diaspora-dominated" countries like Australia, New Zealand, and the English-speaking part of Canada while excluding non-English-speaking European Diaspora countries. He attributes this inclusivity to the historical repositioning needs of English-speaking European Diaspora, undermining the necessary reflection on the issue at hand.

 

Highlighting examples of the use of "cross-cultural studies" and "multiculturalism" as marketing points in postcolonial discourse, Okonkwo argues against the appropriateness of multiculturalism in cross-national contexts. He points out that, generically, multiculturalism refers to cross-cultural transactions within collective wholes rather than inter-national transactions. Okonkwo criticizes the shifting definition of multiculturalism, citing instances like Jeffrey C. Alexander's article on "Modes of Incorporation." While rejecting travelers' "tales" and "racist" anthropology as credible bases for cross-cultural studies, Okonkwo acknowledges the role of travelers and anthropologists as crucial agents in formulating common factors essential for cross-cultural comparisons.

In the second chapter of his work, Okonkwo delves into the significant role of indigenous oral literature within formerly colonized societies. He positions oral literature as both a strategy for neo(colonial) resistance and an expression of their unique perspectives on history and the universe. Drawing upon various cultural and linguistic studies, Okonkwo supports the assertion that oral literatures are equally valid as written literatures, challenging the connection often made between the two for etymological reasons. He disputes critics who dismiss early oral offerings within this genre and questions the disparate reception of similar literary works in Russian, German, and European oral ballads.

 

Okonkwo suggests a minimalist position for critics of early decolonization novels, proposing three key principles for evaluation. These principles involve recognizing novels that seek affirmation through the "reconstruction" of the "precolonial universe," acknowledging the link between language use and the "psychodynamic characteristics of the dominant cultures," and understanding that a novelist's identification depends on the "proximity between the narrative prose and the dialogue."

 

In the third chapter, Okonkwo continues to emphasize the importance of language strategies in decolonization efforts, particularly the appropriation of the colonizer's language as a tool for self-assertion and resistance. He argues that all decolonization novels aim at self-assertion or rehabilitation. Despite mainstream criticism, cultural affirmation in early decolonization novels reflects a reminiscence of the ordered universe and societal dynamics disrupted by the colonial encounter. Okonkwo draws on works by W. B. Yeats and T. S. Eliot to illustrate the idea that societies, after collapse, adapt to new conditions that enable them to rebuild around surviving core values. The chapter proposes two tasks for decolonization literature: rejecting efforts to diminish the significance of oral traditions and resisting the obliteration of historical realities of the ex-colonized.

 

Chapters four and five address the debated question of whether the consequences of colonialism are episodic or continuous. Okonkwo argues, using insightful examples, that these effects are observable in practice. He contends that the psychological consequences of colonialism are real and enduring, influencing the colonized people's relationship with Europe and their self-conception. Despite the imperfections of their indigenous world, it was disrupted by the colonial encounter. In discussing cultural affirmation in chapter four, Okonkwo redirects attention to the coordinates within which early decolonization novelists operated, emphasizing that self-assertion is concerned with the dynamic presence of the past in the present, allowing glimpses into the future.

In chapter five, Okonkwo delves into the shadow side of the independence gained by ex-colonies, particularly focusing on the disillusionment experienced by many African, Caribbean, and Polynesian writers after attaining independence. This disillusionment stems from the failure of early governance structures, a complex issue attributed to various factors. Among these factors are the destruction of indigenous structures of order by the colonial power prior to departure, the Cold War rivalry between the West and the Soviet Bloc, frequently fought by proxy in ex-colonized regions, and the perception of the new state and its government as something alien, belonging to the departing imperial power.

 

Okonkwo's discussion highlights issues that have captivated serious-minded scholars from ex-colonies, reflecting the profound concern about the state of affairs in these regions. After gaining independence, the governing elite often retained significant aspects of the departing imperial power, including autocratic tendencies. Imperialism, as Peter P. Ekeh noted, introduced a version of the Western state stripped of its legislative attributes and legitimacy requirements, resulting in a postcolonial state unfamiliar to both Western civilization and precolonial African history.

 

The challenges stemming from this legacy, such as autocratic rule and the absence of separation of powers and the rule of law, have perplexed early decolonization novelists. Okonkwo emphasizes the need for a new reading of these texts, underscoring the moral dilemma inherent in post-independence politics. He critiques the allegiance owed to the local community being denied to the central (or Federal) government, exemplified by Ngugi's reaction against Achebe's prescription in "A Man of the People." Okonkwo discusses the concept of "home-beyond polarity," where the local community is morally regulated, contrasting with the amoral nature of the central government. This political configuration aligns with Ekeh's theory of the "Two Publics," describing a crisis of legitimation in ex-colonies where individuals straddle both a "primordial public" (moral) and a "civic public" (amoral), leading to complex allegiances and expectations.