Documenti di Didattica
Documenti di Professioni
Documenti di Cultura
James D. Sidaway,
1
Chih Yuan Woon
1
and Jane M. Jacobs
2
1
Department of Geography, National University of Singapore, Singapore
2
Social Sciences, Yale-NUS College, Singapore
Correspondence: James D. Sidaway (email: geojds@nus.edu.sg)
This position paper aims to frame and supplement other papers in this special issue on advancing
postcolonial geographies. We offer ve pathways for postcolonial geography: (i) narrating the
planetary (which then congures the other paths), (ii) acknowledging other postcolonialisms, (iii)
planetary indigeneity, (iv) seeing like an empire and (v) problematizing translations. These inter-
sect and none are exhaustive. Nor are they completed routes. Instead the ve paths that follow are
offered as invitations to scholarly reection and empirically informed research.
Keywords: postcolonial, imperialism, comparative, indigenous, empire, planetary
Introduction: advancing postcolonial geographies
Ali Hashemi the mullah (the protagonist of Roy Mottahedehs 1985 novel on religion
and politics in Iran) listens to his secular friend, the Tehran University professor, Ahmed,
who explains why he left the sacred city of Qom where they had both been students
decades before (in the 1950s):
The war made me fall in love with world history; world history led me to fall in love with a
whole variety of philosophies, Islamic and non-Islamic; and my ability to say You too are right
led me to fall in love with the indecisive character and perplexity of all human thought. As
Hafez [the Persian poet] says, Love seemed easy at rst, but then difculties befell.
(Mottahedeh, 1985: 361)
When it comes to advancing postcolonial geographies, we discern no easy paths. Rather
like Ahmed (and Hafez before him), we have come to realize that what at rst seems so
compelling, even easy, is full of challenges. The contributors in this special issue of the
Singapore Journal of Tropical Geography (SJTG) each offer pathways for advancing post-
colonial geographies. This introductory essay supplements and extends their offerings.
All eight of the papers that follow this introduction were rst presented at a February
2013 symposium held at the National University of Singapore (NUS). That event came
just over a decade after an earlier NUS workshop that similarly yielded an SJTG special
issue on geography and postcolonialism (Sidaway et al., 2003).
We embarked on organizing the symposium knowing that postcolonial perspectives
had lost some vigor, especially within the context of geographys fast changing theo-
retical predilections. This essay expresses our belief that thinking through the postco-
lonial still has relevance as well as yet-to-be-realized potential (Young, 2012). In what
follows we offer ve speculative pathways for postcolonial geography: (i) narrating the
planetary, (ii) acknowledging other postcolonialisms, (iii) planetary indigeneity, (iv)
seeing like an empire and (v) problematizing translations. Clearly these intersect and
none are exhaustive. Each path that follows invites further scholarly reection and
empirically informed work. They frequently track alongside themes raised in the other
papers herewhich we comment on briey along the way. But we are also mindful of
further undertakings and different alliances for postcolonial geography.
bs_bs_banner
doi:10.1111/sjtg.12049
Singapore Journal of Tropical Geography 35 (2014) 421
2014 The Authors
Singapore Journal of Tropical Geography 2014 Department of Geography, National University of Singapore and
Wiley Publishing Asia Pty Ltd
Five postcolonial geographies
Narrating the planetary
A global perspective of one kind or another has always been central to the postcolonial
project, responding as it must to the conditions that brought it into being such as
transnational imperialisms, geopolitical relations, analytical and everyday compara-
tivisms and, of course, globalization. In recent years the social sciences (including
human geography) tended to approach the worldwide through reference to
globalizationthough there are claims that geographers have missed opportunities to
shape globalization literatures (Dicken, 2004) and periodic calls for geography to recon-
nect with a (lost?) World Discipline role (Bonnett, 2003). More recently, literary
studies and other humanities have suggested planetary as a richer entry point to
apprehend the worldwide. For example, Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak proposes the
planet . . . overwrite the globe, for:
Globalization is the imposition of the same system of exchange everywhere. In the gridwork of
electronic capital, we achieve that abstract ball covered in latitudes and longitudes, cut by
virtual lines. . . . The globe is on our computers. The planet is the species of alterity, belonging
to another system. . . . (Spivak, 2003: 72)
Spivaks observation encourages us (again) to step back from the taken-for-
grantedness of the global and engage in its genealogy, one in which colonialism has
played such a central, conguring role. As work on the history of globalization has
specied, it is inseparable from imperial power, as well as reactions and challenges to it.
As Neil Brenner and Stuart Elden (2009: 25) note, it is prior grasping of the world as a
whole, both in thought and in practice, which makes possible the spatial extension of
economic, political, and cultural phenomena across the surface of the globe. Moreover,
the very notion of a globe/globalization internalizes Western thought, through what
Elden (2005: 8) diagnoses as: a particular way of grasping place . . . as something
extensible and calculable, extended in three dimensions and grounded on the geometric
point. Globalization assumes a divisible space. This conception coincides with the rise of
a modern-Western episteme.
In a parallel way we might consider how imperialism has always been an ecological
project, in which humans, plants and other species were shifted around the earth in
schemes for colonization/conservation (Crosby, 1986; Grove, 1995; Beinart & Hughes,
2007; Huggan & Tifn, 2010; DeLoughrey & Handley, 2011). The concept of the present
as the Anthropocene, recently popularized by the Nobel-prize winning atmospheric
chemist Paul Crutzen, acknowledges human activity as the dominant, universal cat-
egory and agent of planetary change. As such, the concept internalizes an apprehension
of the globe and nature that is measured and dated in science whose origins are in,
and which expresses the power of, a Western weltanschauung (world-outlook). Mark
Jacksons (2014) paper here takes up this theme and recognizes that, despite the implied
postcolonial intent of the anthropocenic imagination, the imperial has an enduring aura
that partitions it into nations and races. As Chakrabarty (2012: 14) reminds us, the crisis
of climate change will be routed through our anthropological differences. No matter
how anthropogenic the current global warming may be in its origins, in terms of
solutions, Chakrabarty continues, there is no corresponding straightforward human-
ity that in its oneness can act as a political agent.
The universalist assumptions that underwrite thinking about both globalization and
the anthropocene also bear structural similarities with the ways that the category of
Planetary postcolonialism 5
religion has operated since the late nineteenth century. That this is the case unsettles
some of the taken-for-granted aspects of religion, which is pertinent to charting a
postcolonial path for the recently reinvigorated geographical interest in religion. In the
twentieth century comparative religion categorized people and places as belonging to
one of an array of faiths. Everyone belonged to a religion, or had none. Indeed some
introductory classes and textbooks in world regional geography will map these religious/
culture areas and much work in human geography has traced their intermingling at
other scales of resolution. Tracing the history of these religious classications, Tomoko
Masuzawa (2005: 6) notes how they became entangled with racialized notions of ethnic
difference. While race has been challenged as a social construct, the assumption that the
world is divided into religious/cultural hearths which have yielded a dozen or so
religions has been persistent. She notes, for example, how Judaism, Christianity and
Islam, Hinduism, Buddhism, Zoroastrianism, Sikhism and Confucianism, Taoism and
Shinto are supplemented with newer faiths, such as Bahai, as well as juxtaposed with
a variety of shamanisms and animisms. Masuzawa, however, joins other critics of
classication in pointing to how it internalizes and then universalizes a western category
(religion) attributing a wide variety of social practices to one or other manifestation of
this supposed universal. Thus:
. . . maps, tables, and lists lend immediate facticity to the subject matter through sheer
repetition and proliferation, and thus implicitly endorse as empirical and true what is in reality
a particular way of conceptualizing the world . . . (Masuzawa, 2005: 6)
Drawing on Masuzawa and others who are now demonstrating that the utterly
ubiquitous categories religion and religious are neither innocent nor cross-cultural
universals that are somehow ontologically given, John Thatamanil (2011: 242) points
to a literature that shows how such categories have a complex and determinate history
with a number of consequences. First, the category of religion has a provincial origin
in the West but has come to be applied universally . . . to peoples and traditions that did
not themselves order their lives by appeal to those notions prior to the colonial project
(2011: 2423). Furthermore, a hierarchy was put in place, based on a distinction
between those few putatively world religions who have a written sacred scripture and
the rest, that are seen as local or minor. Yet once these distinctions are securely in place
and taken for granted, it is so easy to characterize traditions that do not recognize and
abide by our distinctions as fundamentalist in character (2011: 243).
That the urge to classify and compare has also been a founding feature of geography
and remains a point of departure for the discipline ought to give us pause for reection
here. For example, new models of comparative urbanism have looked past its role in
discerning abstract universals (Robinson, 2011; Jacobs, 2012; OCallaghan, 2012). We
would urge further reection on the origins and fortunes of comparison. A foundational
part of the postcolonial project is to continue the work of producing grounded gene-
alogies of the uneven co-production of categories, sites and landscapes (see Mohammad
& Sidaway, 2012). The paper here by Garth Myers (2014) speaks most directly to this
challenge. He wishes to retain comparisons, but change the sites and angles of com-
parison. For Myers (2014: 115):
. . . the key lies more in placing cities on a level analytical plain in comparative studies. While
there may be a need for new terminology for discussing new ideas of urbanism in the
twenty-rst century world which might lead to a retirement of the term postcolonialism, it
nonetheless remains the case that the drive for that level analytical plain in comparative
urbanism originates from the postcolonial critique.
6 James D. Sidaway, Chih Yuan Woon and Jane M. Jacobs
Acknowledging other postcolonialisms
Postcolonial geography in the past routinely drew on other variants of postcolonial
thought, most notably those generated through literary criticism. The consideration of
the category of religion in the preceding section serves to remind us that there exist
many other productive engagements with postcolonialism. One such engagement
comes to us by way of postcolonial theology, which has gone largely unnoticed by
geographers. This strikes us as a missed opportunity. Taking the example of Christian
theology, Joeg Rieger (2007: 1) notes how:
From the very beginning, our images of Jesus Christ have developed in the context of Empire.
Jesus was born under the rule of the Roman Emperor Augustus, lived [and was executed]
under the auspices of the Roman Empire. . . . Empire has been the context in which some of
the most important later images of Christ developed. . . . Christ victorious was proclaimed in
neocolonialist circumstances and even the cosmic Christ is tied to another empire. Yet the
images of Christ of empire have not managed to block out alternative visions of Christ
completely. Christ continues to assert a different reality.
Fernando Segovia (2006) argues that a postcolonial optic, as he calls it, not only brings
into view the omnipresent empires that ll the Torah and Bible, but also the legitimizing
realities of many ongoing Christian practices. We might think here of the colonial
framing of Christian evangelizing. For example, a theologically attuned postcolonial
geography might better comprehend any number of contemporary imperial narratives,
including those of the George W. Bush presidency. Similarly, it might be better attuned
to the theological drive behind various anticolonial movements, be they enacted in the
names of freedom, liberation or reconciliation.
Segovia sees a postcolonial perspective as having no choice but to see itself and
represent itself as unus inter pares (one amongst equals). We might prefer to see it as a
primus inter pares (rst amongst equals) or to be more Orthodox and adopt the equiva-
lent Greek terms